The Oxford Handbook of Presbyterianism 9780190608408, 9780190608392, 9780190608415, 0190608404

Citation preview

T h e Ox f o r d H a n d b o o k o f

PR E SBY T E R I A N ISM

The Oxford Handbook of

PRESBYTERIANISM Edited by

GARY SCOTT SMITH and

P. C. KEMENY

1

1 Oxford University Press is a department of the University of Oxford. It furthers the University’s objective of excellence in research, scholarship, and education by publishing worldwide. Oxford is a registered trade mark of Oxford University Press in the UK and certain other countries. Published in the United States of America by Oxford University Press 198 Madison Avenue, New York, NY 10016, United States of America. © Oxford University Press 2019 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of Oxford University Press, or as expressly permitted by law, by license, or under terms agreed with the appropriate reproduction rights organization. Inquiries concerning reproduction outside the scope of the above should be sent to the Rights Department, Oxford University Press, at the address above. You must not circulate this work in any other form and you must impose this same condition on any acquirer. Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Smith, Gary Scott, 1950– editor. Title: The Oxford handbook of Presbyterianism / edited by Gary Scott Smith and P.C. Kemeny. Description: New York : Oxford University Press, 2019. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2019009750 (print) | LCCN 2019021984 (ebook) | ISBN 9780190608408 (updf) | ISBN 9780190608392 (hardcover) | ISBN 9780190608415 (online content) Subjects: LCSH: Presbyterian Church. Classification: LCC BX8913 (ebook) | LCC BX8913 .O94 2019 (print) | DDC 285—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019009750 1 3 5 7 9 8 6 4 2 Printed by Sheridan Books, Inc., United States of America

Contents

Contributorsix

1. Introduction

1

Gary Scott Smith and P. C. Kemeny

PA RT I   H I S TORY OF T H E P R E SB Y T E R IA N T R A DI T ION 2. Sixteenth-Century Origins

9

Gary Neal Hansen

3. The Seventeenth Century and the Westminster Assembly

29

Chad Van Dixhoorn

4. Eighteenth- and Nineteenth-Century Presbyterianism in North America

51

Sean Michael Lucas

5. Presbyterianism in the United States and Canada in the Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries

73

Bradley J. Longfield

6. The Fundamentalist-Modernist Controversy

97

Bradley J. Gundlach

7. Presbyterians in Britain and Europe

117

Ian J. Shaw

8. Presbyterians in Africa

141

Benhardt Yemo Quarshie

9. Presbyterians in Asia

159

Scott W. Sunquist and Peter Lim

10. Presbyterians in Latin America Alderi Souza de Matos

177

vi   contents

11. Presbyterianism in the Middle East

195

Kaley M. Carpenter

PA RT I I   E C C L E SIA L F OR M S A N D S T RU C T U R E S 12. Presbyterian Polity

217

Jeffrey S. McDonald

13. Presbyterian Confessions

229

Donald K. McKim

14. The Doctrine of the Sacraments

241

Gordon S. Mikoski

15. Presbyterian Ecumenism

253

Louis B. Weeks

16. Women’s Ordination

265

Margaret Bendroth

17. Presbyterians, Schisms, and Denominations

275

P. C. Kemeny

PA RT I I I   T H E OL O G Y 18. The Doctrine of God

293

Ivor J. Davidson

19. The Doctrine of Humanity

317

Marguerite Shuster

20. The Doctrine of Christ

333

William B. Evans

21. The Doctrine of the Holy Spirit

349

Richard Burnett

22. The Doctrine of the Word of God

365

Michael S. Horton

23. The Doctrine of the Church Anna Case-Winters

381

contents   vii

24. Predestination and Election

397

W. Andrew Hoffecker

25. Neo-Orthodoxy and Presbyterianism

413

John P. Burgess

26. Presbyterians and the Global Charismatic Movements

425

Michael McClymond

27. Presbyterians, Religious Diversity, and World Religions

439

Martha L. Moore-Keish

28. Presbyterians, Philosophy, Natural Theology, and Apologetics

457

David VanDrunen

PA RT I V   WOR SH I P 29. Theology of Worship

477

Kimberly Bracken Long

30. Hymnody and Liturgy

493

Jonathan Hehn

31. Presbyterian Preaching

507

Thomas G. Long

PA RT V   E T H IC S , P OL I T IC S , A N D E DU C AT ION 32. Presbyterians and Ethics

527

Mark Douglas

33. Presbyterians and Church-State Relations

539

Mark A. Noll

34. Presbyterians and Social Reform

551

Gary Scott Smith

35. Presbyterians and Higher Education

569

R. Tyler Derreth and David S. Guthrie

Index

581

Contributors

Margaret Bendroth,  Executive Director, Congregational Library and Archives, Boston, Massachusetts John P. Burgess,  James Henry Snowden Professor of Systematic Theology, Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Richard Burnett,  Managing Editor, Theology Matters Kaley  M.  Carpenter,  Assistant Teaching Professor, Lawrence  C.  Gallen Teaching Faculty, Augustine and Culture Seminar Program, Villanova University, Villanova, Pennsylvania Ivor J. Davidson,  Honorary Research Professor of Theology, University of Aberdeen, Aberdeen, Scotland R. Tyler Derreth,  Associate Director, SOURCE (Student Outreach Resource Center) Bloomberg School of Public Health, Johns Hopkins University Mark Douglas,  Professor of Christian Ethics, Columbia Theological Seminary, Decatur, Georgia William B. Evans,  Younts Professor of Bible and Religion, Erskine College, Due West, South Carolina Bradley  J.  Gundlach, Distinguished Professor of History, Trinity International University, Deerfield, Illinois David  S.  Guthrie, Associate Professor of Education, Higher Education Program, Pennsylvania State University, University Park, Pennsylvania Gary Neal Hansen,  visiting scholar in the Department of Religious Studies, University of Pittsburgh, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania Jonathan Hehn,  Choral Program Director and Organist, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Indiana W. Andrew Hoffecker,  Professor of Church History Emeritus, Reformed Theological Seminary, Jackson, Mississippi Michael  S.  Horton, J.  Gresham Machen Professor of Systematic Theology and Apologetics, Westminster Seminary, Escondido, California

x   contributors P. C. Kemeny,  Professor of Religion and Humanities and Interim Dean, Grove City College, Grove City, Pennsylvania Peter Lim,  Headington Assistant Professor of Global Leadership Development, and Acting Dean of the School Intercultural Studies, Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California Kimberly Bracken Long, Editor, Call to Worship: Liturgy, Music, Preaching, and the Arts Thomas G. Long,  Bandy Professor Emeritus of Preaching, Candler School of Theology, Emory University, Atlanta, Georgia Bradley J. Longfield,  Professor of Church History, University of Dubuque Theological Seminary, Dubuque, Iowa Sean Michael Lucas, Senior Minister, Independent Presbyterian Church (PCA), Memphis, Tennessee and Chancellor's Professor of Church History, Reformed Theological Seminary, Jackson, Mississippi Alderi Souza de Matos,  Professor of Historical Theology, Andrew Jumper Presbyterian Graduate Center, Mackenzie Presbyterian Institute, São Paulo, Brazil Michael McClymond,  Professor of Modern Christianity, Department of Theological Studies, Saint Louis University, St. Louis, Missouri Jeffrey S. McDonald,  Pastor, Avery Presbyterian Church (EPC), Bellevue, Nebraska, and Affiliate Professor of Church History, Sioux Falls Seminary, Sioux Falls, South Dakota Donald  K.  McKim,  retired Professor of Theology, Memphis Theological Seminary, Memphis, Tennessee Gordon  S.  Mikoski, Professor of Christian Education, Princeton Theological Seminary, Princeton, New Jersey Martha  L.  Moore-Keish, J.  B.  Green Associate Professor of Theology, Columbia Theological Seminary, Decatur, Georgia Mark A. Noll,  Francis A. McAnaney Professor of History Emeritus, University of Notre Dame, Notre Dame, Indiana Benhardt Yemo Quarshie,  Rector, Akrofi-Christaller Institute of Theology, Mission and Culture, Akropong-Akuapem, Ghana Ian J.  Shaw,  Provost, Union School of Theology, UK; Honorary Fellow, School of Divinity, New College, University of Edinburgh, Edinburgh, Scotland Marguerite Shuster,  Harold John Ockenga Professor Emerita of Preaching and Theology and Senior Professor of Preaching and Theology, Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California Gary Scott Smith,  Professor of History Emeritus, Grove City College, Grove City, Pennsylvania

contributors   xi Scott W. Sunquist,  President and Professor of Missiology, Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, South Hamilton, Massachusetts Chad Van Dixhoorn,  Professor of Church History, Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania David VanDrunen,  Robert B. Strimple Professor of Systematic Theology and Christian Ethics, Westminster Seminary California, Escondido, California Louis B. Weeks,  President Emeritus, Union Presbyterian Seminary, Richmond, Virginia Anna Case-Winters,  Professor of Theology, McCormick Theological Seminary, Chicago, Illinois

chapter 1

I n troduction Gary Scott Smith and P. C. Kemeny

Twenty-five years ago, Robert Bruce Mullin and Russell E. Richey mapped out a new direction for denominational studies in Reimagining Denominationalism: Interpretative Essays (1994). Many observers have noted that since the early nineteenth century, denominations have represented a form of religious organization that allows traditions to practice their faith freely while also operating effectively within the free marketplace of religion created by the First Amendment’s Disestablishment and Free Exercise Clauses. For years, however, most studies of denominations were written by and for “insiders” (adherents to particular denominations), who failed to situate them within their larger intellectual and social landscape. Beginning in the 1960s, scholars began to offer new perspectives on the academic study of religion. The renaming of the National Association of Bible Instructors as the American Academy of Religion in 1963 signaled this shift in scholarly attention. In the field of American religious history, for example, denominational histories were largely replaced by broad and sweeping interpretations that tried to make sense of the rich diversity of the American religious experience, which included, but did not focus on, denominational traditions. As Protestant cultural hegemony began to decline in the 1960s, this shift also helped to give rise to pan-denominational studies that explored various themes, including evangelicalism and gender studies. Although such new perspectives examined important aspects of religious experience, they further diminished scholarly interest in denominational studies. As Mullin and Richey note, several theological developments also contributed to reduced interest in denominational studies. Ecumenism and neo-orthodoxy, for instance, stressed the importance of unity and minimized theological distinctives. Scholars committed to a specific denominational tradition continued to write works that were valued by their respective faith communities; but they often did not constructively engage new perspectives that were being introduced in contemporary theological or historical discussions. The growing influence of postmodernism and the concurrent abandonment of overarching universals and metanarratives have helped to renew interest, as Mullin and Richey observe, in “particularity and individual story.” This shift has revived interest in the dynamic history and vitality of various denominational traditions.1

2   gary scott smith and p. c. kemeny To be sure, adherents of specific denominational traditions continue to publish work intended to bolster the faith of their adherents. Among Presbyterians, for instance, William Edgar, Truth in All Its Glory: Commending the Reformed Faith, explains the contours of conservative Presbyterian theology. This book and Sean Michael Lucas, On Being Presbyterian: Our Beliefs, Practices, and Stories, offer an interpretation of the Presbyterian tradition that appeals to conservative Presbyterians.2 The growing interest in denominations, however, has also given rise to works that are valuable to both insiders and outsiders. This trend is especially evident in American church history. Bradley J. Longfield’s Presbyterians and American Culture (2013), for example, examines the history of the Presbyterian tradition within the larger American intellectual and social context. This perspective benefits not only members of these denominations but also scholars and students of American history. Presbyterianism has a rich, robust, resilient history. Presbyterianism began in Scotland in the early 1560s, and since then its adherents have spread to Europe, North America, Asia, Africa, Latin America, Australia, and New Zealand. In some locales and eras, Presbyterians have flourished; in others, they have struggled; in still others, they have experienced both triumphs and defeats. The essays in this handbook explain the historical roots and development, challenges and problems, and successes and failures of Presbyterians all over the world. Throughout their history, Presbyterians have often had an influence in society that exceeded their numbers because of their generally high levels of education, wealth, and status. This continues to be true today for the world’s thirty-three million Presbyterians, who belong to hundreds of denominations in more than seventy-five nations. During their history, Presbyterians have developed a distinctive theology, style of worship, and polity. The Presbyterian Church is catholic, evangelical, and Reformed. Presbyterians accept the basic doctrines formulated by early ecumenical councils and see themselves as being part of the universal church. Presbyterianism’s roots are in the sixteenth-century “evangelical” revolt against medieval Catholicism that affirmed sola Scriptura, sola gratia, sola fide, solus Christus, soli Deo Gloria, and the priesthood of all believers. As a body influenced by John Calvin and other Swiss Reformers, Presbyterianism has emphasized the sovereignty of God, the election of individuals for salvation and service, and the necessity of continual reform to remain faithful to the Scriptures and to adapt the gospel message to various cultural settings. Theologically, as delineated in their numerous creeds—especially The Scots Confession (1560), the Second Helvetic Confession (1566), and the Westminster Confession (1647)—and as discussed in the pronouncements of the general assemblies of various denominations, countless books, and millions of sermons, Presbyterians have underscored several key doctrines. They have accentuated the importance and implications of God’s sovereignty as the world’s creator, sustainer, and redeemer. They have sought to safeguard Christ’s dual nature as God’s Son and as a human being who taught divine truth, modeled how to live, died for humanity’s sin, and rose bodily from the dead. Christ, they have insisted, played the pivotal role in both accomplishing and applying

introduction   3 human salvation. Presbyterians have stressed both the dignity of human beings resulting from their creation in God’s image and likeness and their radical depravity resulting from original sin and demonstrated by actual sin. Influenced by Augustine, Presbyterians have also explained the nature and limits of human free will and argued that God’s grace can overcome people’s bondage to sin and redeem them. Presbyterian worship has centered around the preaching of God’s word, typically based on the exposition of scriptural passages, and the celebration of the sacraments of communion and baptism. Presbyterians have expected their pastors to be well educated in the liberal arts, the Bible, and theology and to deliver thoughtful, stimulating sermons, engagingly teach God’s Word to their parishioners, and effectively administer their churches. Following Calvin, Presbyterians have insisted that Christ is spiritually, but not physically, present when the church celebrates the Lord’s Supper. They have sought to devise a theologically grounded order of worship that moves worshippers from acknowledging their sin to receiving God’s grace to being instructed and inspired by Scripture through the preached word to being energized to serve people and promote God’s glory. The pattern Calvin established in Geneva, Switzerland, served as a model for Presbyterian polity. Based on their understanding of Scripture, Presbyterian polity establishes three officers—pastors (teaching elders), ruling elders, and deacons—to lead the church and a series of graded courts to govern their ministry. Pastors preach, administer the sacraments, and direct their parishioners’ spiritual formation; elders exercise oversight over congregants, help guide them spiritually, and make decisions about financial and practical matters; and deacons care for the sick, shut-in, and poor. Presbyterianism features a series of judicial bodies—sessions of local congregations, presbyteries (regional associations of congregations), synods (regional associations of presbyteries), and general assemblies—which usually meet annually or biannually—to direct the ministry and governance of its constituents and to enable individuals and groups to appeal decisions from lower to higher bodies. Presbyterians have also been distinguished by their sense of vocation, efforts to develop culture in conformity with Scriptural teachings and to promote God’s glory in all areas of life, and passion for education. Throughout their history, Presbyterians have cared deeply about the life of the mind, the study of Scripture, and the call to view everything through a biblical lens. As a result, Presbyterians have established an impressive array of educational institutions throughout the world—primarily colleges and seminaries—which have advanced scholarship and helped countless people develop a biblical worldview and a vibrant faith, and prepared them to serve God and humanity through the ministry, and many other vocations. Although some of these colleges, especially in Western nations, have become somewhat or almost completely secular, others continue to provide a distinctively Reformed education. Guided and prodded by their Reformed heritage and their understanding of biblical teaching, many Presbyterians have worked diligently to base social and cultural practices on scriptural principles. Their influence on political, economic, and social life in Scotland (after 1560) and in

4   gary scott smith and p. c. kemeny America (after 1730) has been particularly powerful. Presbyterians have helped shape cultural customs, social norms, educational philosophy and practice, and governmental structures and policies. Influenced by Calvin, Presbyterians have developed a theologically informed perspective on political life. Sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Reformed confessions, including the Westminster Standards, exhorted churches and governments to cooperate closely to promote godliness in society. Although they tried to establish Presbyterian regimes in several European countries before 1700, Presbyterians succeeded only in  Scotland. Presbyterians argued, in opposition to common European practices, that only Jesus Christ, not a king, pope, or bishop, was the head of the church. Three foundational concepts, devised in Scotland in the late sixteenth century, strongly affected the development of the state and church in both Great Britain and America in the 1700s: countries and their leaders were obligated to obey God’s transcendent laws; churches had the right to govern themselves without government interference; and ordinary citizens had a responsibility to try to base their governments’ actions and their societies’ laws on biblical norms. By the early 1800s, Presbyterians in North America, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa accepted the separation of church and state and the concept of the freedom of worship. Moreover, Presbyterianism has supplied numerous statesmen, most notably, American president Woodrow Wilson, to guide various nations. Throughout their history, Presbyterians have usually given greater priority to evangelism than to social ministry. They have seen their primary calling as seeking to convert souls and help believers grow spiritually. Moreover, they have argued that the best way to improve society is to transform people. Nevertheless, some Presbyterians have been at the forefront of efforts to abolish social ills and reform social structures and have contributed substantially to campaigns, especially since 1880, in the United States, Canada, Scotland, Australia, and parts of Africa and Asia (especially Korea and China) to remedy social problems and upgrade the quality of material life. Although they prize and promote their theological distinctives, denominational enterprises, and individual congregations, Presbyterians have often partnered with Christians in other traditions to engage in worship, witness for Christ, and serve those in need. Throughout the years, Presbyterians have contributed substantially to numerous ecumenical organizations, most notably, the Evangelical Alliance, the Alliance of the Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian System, the Federal Council of Churches, the Faith and Order and the Life and Work movements, and the World Council of Churches. While Presbyterians are often associated primarily with English-speaking countries, since the nineteenth century, they have planted many churches in several African nations, the four main regions of Latin America—Mexico, Central America, the Caribbean Islands, and South America—and various parts of Asia, including Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, Sri Lanka, Myanmar, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, the Philippines, China, Taiwan, and Korea, and even the Middle East. Presbyterians are thriving in some of these locales, but their ability to evangelize and establish congregations is inhibited in some places by government restrictions and cultural and religious forces.

introduction   5 Differences over doctrine, polity, liturgy, and social issues, as well as ethnic, racial, class, and gender, regional factors, and personal conflicts, have often produced controversy and even schism among Presbyterians. Presbyterian belief and practice, while sharing many similarities, have varied among nations (Scotland, Ireland, England, continental Europe, America, and Australia, and in African, Latin American, and Asian countries) and within countries (e.g., the Scottish Highlands and Lowlands, the American North and South), as well as over the centuries. During the last hundred years, disputes over biblical authority and interpretation; the importance of theological confessions; and the issues of race, civil rights, human sexuality, marriage, ordination, and the role of women in the church have been particularly heated. In some ways, Presbyterians’ numerous debates and divisions have hampered their ability to work together to proclaim the gospel and reform society. In other ways, however, this diversity of perspectives and practices has enriched and empowered Presbyterianism around the globe, enabling Presbyterians to penetrate more countries and reach more groups. Another major factor dividing Presbyterians today are their differing theological positions based on their understanding of Scripture, natural theology, philosophy, and life experiences. During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Presbyterians generally believed that God revealed himself through both the Bible and nature and that human beings, though sinful, could glean truth from the created world. They insisted that Christians could use philosophical insights and evidence from nature to advance apologetic arguments. This position, further developed by nineteenth-century Princeton theologians and the neo-Calvinism of Abraham Kuyper, has largely shaped the approach of theologically conservative Presbyterians. By contrast, neo-orthodox assumptions that natural theology serves no useful apologetic purpose have principally informed the stance of more theologically liberal Presbyterians. Despite the problems confronting Presbyterians caused by significant theological disagreement, division, and decline in some places, especially the mainline Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, the future of the Presbyterianism is bright. Because of its theological foundation, impressive heritage, organizational structure, educational institutions, social activism, and passion for promoting the gospel, Presbyterianism is likely to continue to be a vibrant, influential movement for decades to come. The chapters of this book are organized under five broad topics: history; ecclesial forms and structures; theology; worship; and ethics, politics, and education. The first section, the history of the Presbyterian tradition, provides a general overview of the more than 450 years of Presbyterian history and analyzes its European origins, North American history, and worldwide development and influence. The remaining four sections explain how Presbyterians have understood themselves. Because the primary distinctive features of Presbyterianism are its form of church government, confessionalism, views of the sacraments and ordination, and numerous schisms, these issues are addressed next. Presbyterians have also developed distinctive theological views, most notably, their doctrines of God, Christ, the Holy Spirit, the Bible, humanity, the church, predestination, and election. This section also analyzes Presbyterians’ interaction with

6   gary scott smith and p. c. kemeny neo-orthodoxy, the charismatic and Pentecostal movements, and world religions. The final two sections examine how Presbyterian history and theology have shaped its understanding and practice of worship and ethics, church-state relations, social reform, and education.

Notes 1. Robert Bruce Mullin and Russell E. Richey, introduction to Reimagining Denominationalism: Interpretative Essays, ed. Robert Bruce Mullin and Russell  E.  Richey (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 3–9. 2. William Edgar, Truth in All Its Glory: Commending the Reformed Faith (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2004); and Sean Michael Lucas, On Being Presbyterian: Our Beliefs, Practices, and Stories (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2006).

pa rt I

H ISTORY OF T H E PR E SBY T E R I A N T R A DI T ION

chapter 2

Si xteen th- Cen t u ry Or igi ns Gary Neal Hansen

Introduction Presbyterianism is the portion of the Reformed branch of Protestantism that ­originated in the Church of Scotland and the seventeenth-century English separatists who were attempting to make the Church of England more thoroughly Reformed through the work of the Westminster Assembly (1643–1653); and it came to include the churches they fostered through colonialism and missionary endeavors. The name refers to a ­central issue of polity: their churches are governed by “presbyters,” a transliteration of the Greek word for “elders.” Presbyterian Churches are close kin to the continental denominations that took the name “Reformed,” the term for their shared theological heritage, which is often, albeit imprecisely, referred to as “Calvinism.” The sixteenth-century origins of Presbyterianism will be explored through three ­different lenses. First, the Christian reforming impulse will be examined more broadly to place the Reformed movement in the context other movements to restore the health and purity of the church, both before and during the Protestant Reformation. Second, four key features of the sixteenth-century Reformed movement that had helped shape Presbyterianism will be analyzed: Renaissance humanism which helped drive the movement, Reformed theology, Reformed worship, and distinctive elements of Reformed polity. Third, the story of Protestant reform in Scotland and its connection to the Reformed movement on the continent will be evaluated.

The Broader Reforming Impulse The Protestant Reformation was not the first effort to renew European Christianity, nor  was the Reformed tradition the dominant movement in sixteenth-century

10   gary neal hansen Protestantism. Popular culture gives the impression that the Protestant Reformation began with a bang—literally—when Martin Luther (1483–1546) allegedly hammered his ninety-five theses to the door of the Wittenberg Castle Church in 1517. This is as false as the idea that the Reformed component of Protestantism was birthed with a full-grown Calvinist theology, nonliturgical worship, and Presbyterian polity. The Protestant Reformation is better envisioned as a set of interrelated movements in a centuries-long quest to reform the medieval Catholic Church, with the Reformed often toward the ­center on a spectrum of Protestant options. Many movements had sought to reform European Christianity in the centuries prior to the rise of Protestantism, with varying degrees of success.1 When key institutions of the church, such as Benedictine monasticism, fell from their ideals, movements arose to restore them, such as the network of monasteries beginning with Cluny (founded in 910) and later the Cistercians (1098). Wide-ranging renewal of discipleship and leadership happened under the influence of new orders, such as the Franciscans (1209) and Dominicans (1216). When the moral state of the clergy and the church’s relation to the state were causing trouble, popes sometimes led reforms, as in the case of Pope Gregory VII (1073–1085), who provoked the Investiture Controversy. And when corruption of the papacy itself was the problem, as when the bishop of Rome moved to Avignon (1309–1376) and the church subsequently divided under two, then three, duly elected popes (1378–1417), councils of the church, such as that of Constance (1414–1418), were convened to authoritatively enforce changes. These movements focused on reforming the church’s piety, morals, and structures. Even before the Council of Constance, however, some were calling for reforming the church’s theology. In England, John Wycliffe (c. 1320–1384) questioned the prevailing views on numerous major issues, including the place of Scripture in theology, the authority of the papacy, the nature of the church, and the biblical and logical basis of transubstantiation. Czech Jan Huss (c. 1369–1415) closely followed Wycliffe’s views. Their cause did not fare well. Huss was condemned by the Council of Constance and burned at the stake. Wycliffe was condemned posthumously. The situation changed with the sixteenth-century Reformation—or, rather, “Reformations,” since it was an era of many reforming movements. The European church faced particularly egregious problems, and the call for change was widespread. On the Protestant side, reforms led to lasting structural and theological change at the price of schism, whereas Catholic reforms preserved unity by making significant changes to practice without altering theology. One prominent story will illustrate several of these problems and provide a background for the rise of Luther’s reforms.2 With considerable wealth and influence vested in clerical offices, ambitious families saw the church as a place for their offspring to ­pursue quite worldly ambitions. Albert (1490–1545), the younger son of the elector of Brandenburg, was made archbishop of Magdeburg in 1513. The position, along with his role as administrator of Halberstadt, did not sate his ambition. He wanted also to be the archbishop of Mainz and thereby an elector of the Holy Roman Empire like his brother.

sixteenth-century origins   11 He needed to pay a substantial fee to Leo X (pope from 1513–1521) for a dispensation from the established laws of the church: one person obviously could not be present to oversee church affairs in three cities. Albert’s dispensation would allow him to practice what was often condemned as “absenteeism.” A well-paid appointee could hire someone else to fulfill the actual duties—a practice partly responsible for countless European parishes being served by priests with little theological training beyond their memorization of Latin liturgy and rites. (A variation was using the funds from a church position as a “benefice” to pay the educational expenses of a university student like young John Calvin.) Albert had to borrow the funds to obtain his ecclesiastical offices, while Pope Leo needed money to support his lifestyle and military expenses. They struck a deal: they would create an “indulgence” to be sold in Albert’s territory and split the proceeds. By way of background to indulgences, sin after baptism was understood to bring both an “eternal” penalty, which was forgiven in the sacrament of penance, and a “temporal,” or earthly, penalty. If one died before the temporal penalty was resolved, one paid it after death by spending time in Purgatory. An indulgence paid for this temporal penalty out of the treasury of Christ’s merits, which the pope unlocked using the keys Christ gave to Peter (Matt. 16:18–19). Such was the understanding since the First Crusade in 1095, when soldiers were enticed to participate by the offer of an indulgence if they died in battle. Although the general practice was acceptable to Catholic theology, this particular indulgence was not. Albert and Leo’s indulgence was marketed as more important to salvation than faith or virtue and was made available for money on a sliding scale. Buying the indulgence for dead relatives was portrayed as an act of compassion—mere money could stop their cruel sufferings in Purgatory. As indulgence seller Johann Tetzel famously intoned, “As soon as the coin in the coffer rings / the soul from purgatory springs.” Thus, administrative corruption was intertwined with financial corruption, producing theological corruption: this understanding of both salvation and the sacraments violated traditional Catholic teaching. One pious and scholarly monk, a Bible professor at the University of Wittenberg, was deeply troubled by this indulgence. Martin Luther had personally struggled with the theology and sacramental practice of the church. Late medieval nominalism had taught him that Christ’s grace would take effect only if he had first done everything in his power to live as God demanded.3 He spent countless hours in the confessional at his Augustinian monastery, seeking to do all in his power to confess every past sin so that he could count on God’s grace in the sacrament. Luther’s superior helped him out of this obsessive scrupulosity by sending him in 1508 to study and teach Bible at the newly founded University of Wittenberg. This work, especially his study of Paul’s Epistles, soon placed his faith on an entirely different footing: he concluded that salvation came by God’s freely given grace, a gift to sinners who are otherwise beyond help, received by wholehearted trust in God’s sure promises in Christ. In 1517, when Albert’s indulgence was to be sold near enough to Wittenberg for his parishioners to buy it, Luther proposed an academic debate of ninety-five theses on the topic of indulgences, setting them in the context of the nature of salvation and papal

12   gary neal hansen authority.4 His concern was pastoral, that the poor not be exploited financially, and theological, that salvation be proclaimed on the basis he found to be clearly taught in Scripture. He also impugned the motives of a papacy that held the keys of the Treasury of Merits but refused to freely use such inexhaustible riches to mercifully release souls from Purgatory. In 1521 Luther was excommunicated. He had sought not independence from Rome, but to reform the theology and practice of the Catholic Church. After being condemned at the Diet of Worms in April 1521, Luther remained the German Reformation’s fiery and affable leader. Even as a married Protestant pastor much of the medieval monk remained within him, and the movement he led was at the conservative end of the Protestant spectrum. Luther trimmed away what seemed to explicitly contradict biblical teaching while leaving laypeople much that was familiar from Catholic piety. For instance, he retained the Eucharist as the central focus of the weekly worship service, but removed language referring to the Eucharist as a sacrifice from the liturgy of the Mass. The idea of priesthood still shaped Lutheran ministry, but priesthood’s meaning expanded to embrace the work of all Christians. The Bible was translated into the people’s language, and theology was wrested away from medieval understandings, with justification understood in strongly Pauline terms of grace alone, in Christ alone, received by faith alone. At the other end of the Protestant spectrum were the movements modern historians labeled the “Radical Reformation.”5 They varied widely in their emphasis, but all went further than the Lutherans or the Reformed in reshaping theology and church. Most prominent among them were groups known as Anabaptists who sought to build more strictly on biblical mandates: they rejected infant baptism because they could not find it attested in Scripture and rejected swearing oaths and killing because they found them clearly forbidden. These stands functionally rejected the Christian society around them and made the Anabaptists frequent victims of persecution. Other radical groups left biblical teachings far behind. Some preferred the Holy Spirit’s direct inspiration to Biblical teachings. Others rejected core Christian doctrines, such as the Trinity, as irrational. While many of the radicals were peaceable, the revolutionary tendencies of some of them troubled governments, resulting in repression. In addition to this Protestant spectrum, varied efforts were undertaken to reform the Roman Catholic Church from within. Most important among these was the Council of Trent (1545–1563), which put structures in place to educate clergy and to raise standards of Christian faith and life, while condemning Protestant teachings and firmly preserving the medieval theological synthesis. Other Catholic reforming movements included those who brought renewal to existing religious orders, such as St. Teresa of Ávila (1515–1582) among the Carmelites, and new orders that provided an impetus for renewal, such as the Society of Jesus, or the Jesuits, founded by St. Ignatius of Loyola (c. 1491–1556). There were also important Renaissance thinkers among the reforming Catholic clergy, including Desiderius Erasmus (c. 1466–1536), who through massive scholarly and popular publications worked to educate Christians about the sources of their faith, and thereby help them live more faithfully.

sixteenth-century origins   13

The Influence of the Renaissance on the Reformed Movement Erasmus, the Catholic Renaissance humanist scholar, provides a transition to the Reformed branch of Protestantism and the roots of Presbyterianism. The Renaissance shaped the Reformed tradition profoundly, providing its intellectual context and ­contributing to its ethos. Beginning in fourteenth-century Italy, the Renaissance, or “rebirth,” was a multi-faceted attempt to rebuild European society on the foundation of Greco-Roman culture. They termed the recent centuries of European history “middle” ages, a low ebb between the riches of antiquity and the new age they themselves were bringing to birth. In literature and art, in architecture and law, the rediscovery of ancient sources led to a spirit of inquiry and expansion. They found much in medieval culture wanting. Medieval art seemed flat compared with the lifelike figures of the Romans and Greeks. The universal Latin of the Church and scholarship was simplistic compared with the eloquence of the Roman orators. Embracing the past spurred Renaissance leaders to push to new cultural and intellectual heights. Painters rediscovered linear perspective allowing for nearly photographic realism. Study of Roman orators led writers to strive to think more clearly and write more beautifully—and it created a thirst for more knowledge about the writers of antiquity. When the Renaissance reached northern Europe, its proponents applied its tools and perspectives to the great Latin and Greek writers of the early church. The newly invented printing press, under the influence of scholarly priests like Erasmus, brought out print editions of the Greek New Testament as well as many works of such writers as Cyprian, Ambrose, and Augustine from the Latin West and Basil, Gregory of Nazianzus, and John Chrysostom from the Greek East. These writers were not unknown in the Middle Ages. The problem was that their works were known only in small pieces removed from their contexts. The Glossa Ordinaria, the famous Bible commentary completed in the twelfth century, surrounded the text with marginal quotations from these ancient writers. Theological works like Aquinas’s Summa Theologica were built upon quotations and paraphrases of these same authorities. However, few ever read the books from which the quotations came. Renaissance scholars wanted to read the Bible in its original form, as well as its most authoritative interpreters. They studied the classical languages of Greek and Latin, and biblical Hebrew as well. When they did, they discovered differences between the faith they inherited from the medieval Church and the faith taught in the original sources. Not least among their observations was that in the New Testament salvation was offered by free grace to the guiltiest sinners. This contrasted sharply with the Nominalist vision of salvation offered only to those who would first do all that was in their own power— and to new readers of the Fathers nominalism looked like the Pelagianism Augustine condemned.

14   gary neal hansen They also discovered in the early post-biblical writers a different frame of mind and theological method. In Medieval scholastic theology, “dialectic,” the art of debate, was preeminent. Opposing quotations from authorities were laid side by side. Argument led to resolution of differences. The resulting theology was an intellectual construction defended by logic. Its conclusions were often far removed from both lived experience and scriptural teaching. In the ancient world, by contrast, the art of “rhetoric,” or persuasive public speech, was key. The great theologians of the fourth and fifth centuries were educated as orators who used language to persuade and to entertain. They intentionally used literary devices and figures of speech to move readers’ hearts and minds. Rhetoric made their writings beautiful and convincing—and it revealed how language works. A sixteenth-century literary scholar, understanding the tools of rhetoric, was equipped to interpret any text, including the Bible, in light of its author’s intended meaning. Reformed leaders saw these differences and took from them an agenda for ministry. Knowing the Bible in its original languages, they felt obliged to preach and teach this source of Christian theology, trusting this was for the good of the church. Some began as scholars, others as Catholic priests and monks, but they made common cause, convinced by the fruits of the same Renaissance inquiry into Biblical sources of the faith. A couple short and perhaps familiar stories illustrate how the Reformed tradition was a Christian outgrowth of the Renaissance movement. In Switzerland, a priest named Ulrich Zwingli (1484–1531) became convinced of theological views quite like Luther’s, and at the same time, but not under Luther’s influence. Zwingli’s education had exposed him to the humanism of the Renaissance, as well as to scholasticism. In his early years of ministry, he studied Greek, enabling him to read Erasmus’s 1516 print edition of the Greek New Testament. He explored the Greek and Latin church fathers. He became ­convinced that the health of the church depended on teaching the Scriptures. And teach them he did. On January 1, 1519, he took up his new position as the priest of the Grossmünster in the Swiss city of Zurich. Entering the pulpit, he took the radical step of leaving behind the text assigned by the lectionary and began preaching instead at Matthew 1:1. He continued, week after week, text by text, preaching through the whole book, then moved on to other gospels, Acts, and the epistles. This is the most famous example of preaching “lectio continua,” the practice that came to define the early Reformed pulpit. Reformed leaders objected strenuously to lectionaries that presented Scripture to worshippers in a selective way, removed from its literary context. Regardless of how he selected the text, Zwingli’s emphasis on preaching was itself a reforming act. In the typical medieval Mass, the biblical texts assigned by the lectionary would be read, but they would not typically be preached on. Preaching was reserved for special seasons like Lent when a priest might be brought in for special services. The Mass was instead an essentially visual event. The liturgy was in Latin, which few worshippers could understand. They said their own prayers or chatted until a bell was rung marking the consecration of the bread and wine. The priest held high the consecrated “host,” understood to be miraculously changed into the body and blood of Christ. Then people gazed upon their Lord in worship. In the common phrase, people went to “see Mass.” Zwingli and other Reformed leaders, by contrast, made worship an oral and aural experience. They decried the ignorance of the Christian populace, which they blamed

sixteenth-century origins   15 on the clergy for neglecting the pulpit. Preaching at every service, and preaching ­systematically though books of the Bible, made worship a time of education. The people took notice. When Zwingli spoke on the lack of biblical mandate for the Catholic Church’s required Lenten fast from meat, some of his parishioners gathered to eat ­sausages at a gathering during Lent. Though Zwingli did not partake, he defended the instigator who was arrested for the infraction, and the event was a catalyst for the Swiss Reformation. In 1529, Philip of Hesse (1504–1567) invited Lutheran and Reformed leaders to a ­colloquy at Marburg, in hope of creating a unified Protestantism.6 The discussion there, between Zwingli and Luther especially, points to the Renaissance influence on the Reformed movement. When Zwingli repeatedly quoted the Bible in Greek, Luther asked him to use Latin or German. Zwingli, half apologetically, half boastfully, declared that he had read the New Testament almost exclusively in Greek for twelve years. Though Luther himself had translated the New Testament into German, Zwingli, as a Renaissance scholar, embraced the Greek text. The Lutheran and Reformed leaders reached agreement on every point except the Eucharist. Luther was adamant that when Christ said, “This is my body,” he meant it ­literally. Zwingli and Johannes Oecolampadius (1482–1531) argued that the plain and obvious sense of Scripture is that Christ is bodily in heaven since his ascension, and that one should read the “is” of the words of institution as metaphor—a literary device known from rhetoric. It was no more literal than when Scripture says God “is” a rock. This insurmountable difference on Christ’s bodily location in relation to the Eucharist revealed the different mental worlds of the Lutheran and Reformed leaders, and in the process, it showed Zwingli’s desire to read Scripture using the tools of Renaissance ­literary analysis. The importance of Renaissance priorities and tools is very evident a generation later in Genevan reformer John Calvin. As mentioned earlier, Calvin’s father originally intended him for the priesthood and provided for his education with benefices. Eventually, Calvin’s father changed his ambition for his son, sending him to study law at the Universities of Bourges and Orleans. He learned law in the Renaissance way, studying the orators of the Roman courts and senate. After his father died, in 1531, Calvin sought to become a Renaissance literary scholar instead, entering the field by writing a commentary on a work of Seneca in 1532. It is difficult to pinpoint exactly when, but soon Calvin became a convinced Protestant. By 1535 his name was appearing on works of theological rather than secular scholarship. He is best known for work in two genres: the first is his biblical theology known as The Institutes of the Christian Religion, the little first edition of which (226 pages in the modern English translation) appeared in 1536 and grew to massive size by the 1559 ­edition (1,521 pages in the modern English translation). Second, and equally important, were his many biblical commentaries, the first of which was published in 1540. Calvin’s commentaries most readily reveal the Renaissance influence. Most of what he does in the process of interpreting biblical texts is best explained as a use of Renaissance tools to achieve a Renaissance agenda.7 This starts with his sense that in studying the plain meaning of the Bible, one is returning to the truest and best sources of the faith. Doing so bypasses the massive accrual of imaginative speculation found in

16   gary neal hansen medieval biblical interpreters, where spiritual meanings of the text were often sought through allegorical interpretation. This untethering of the text from its historical and literary meanings had led to medieval doctrines that could be discussed using biblical allusions but could not be supported by the explicit content of any biblical text. In Calvin’s understanding, and in that of his colleagues, the allegorical approach turned interpretation of the Bible into a game: the meaning could be twisted into any shape a theologian wished. Calvin, along with other Renaissance scholars, assumed that an ancient text is best understood by searching out what its author was trying to communicate using the ordinary rules and habits of language. To find and understand the author’s intended meaning, a Renaissance scholar ­analyzed a text’s use of the tools of rhetoric. Roman orators used these tools intentionally, but even those untrained in rhetoric, like Jesus or Paul, regularly used them unconsciously. Metaphors and similes, reference to a part as an inference to the whole, arguments from minor examples to clear principles or the other way around, and many other rhetorical tools were clear delineations of the way language worked. When analyzed in Scripture or any ancient text, they gave readers insight into the author’s mind. The Renaissance influence is seen with a theological twist in Calvin’s attention to reading each individual text in context. Whether reading law or Scripture, interpreters better understood the meaning of an author’s statement by reading it in its full context, and such understanding could undercut an opponent’s misuse of a passage. A phrase of Paul needed to be interpreted in its sentence, paragraph, chapter, and book, and then in light of what he said in his other works. But beyond that, Paul’s words needed to be read in the context of what Jesus, Moses, and other biblical authors said. For the Reformed interpreter, this was possible because of a theological conviction: through and amidst the diverse voices of the biblical authors, God was speaking. The interpreter’s job was to listen for God’s unifying and consistent voice throughout the Bible. Sixteenth-century Reformed biblical interpretation is set apart from many modern scholarly approaches to Scripture by this pair of convictions: the Renaissance conviction that the rules of language could lead to understanding the author’s mind, and the theological conviction that God can be heard through the writers of the Bible. Combining these convictions with the rigorous attempt to grasp, teach, and live the whole of Scripture as God’s word produced the heartbeat of the sixteenth-century Reformed movement that gave birth to later Presbyterianism.

The Reformed Theological Synthesis Using a shared set of Renaissance tools and priorities, sixteenth-century Reformed theologians developed a kind of theological synthesis. This was not a uniform theology. Numerous differences exist among Reformed theologians, both in published treatises and in the debates in their correspondence and colloquies. Still, the family resemblance within their writings is readily discernible.8

sixteenth-century origins   17 Recognizing this synthesis is much easier than accurately describing it. Three ­ istakes must be avoided: first, sixteenth-century writers should not be read through m the lens of later rationalistic Reformed orthodoxy. Sixteenth-century converts from medieval Catholic faith did different theological work than those born Reformed in Reformed lands in the era of Protestant scholasticism. Second, issues that stand out more today than they did in the sixteenth century must not be overemphasized. When Reformed confessions vehemently opposed ancient Trinitarian and Christological heresies, it was not because these were the main agenda of the Reformed. The authors needed to demonstrate their basic orthodoxy. When Reformed theological writings explored the topics for which the movement became known, such as predestination and providence, it was not necessarily because they were central issues. Rather, these issues had to be discussed because the Bible presented them. Third, the Reformed tradition must not be entirely defined by its most prominent writer and most resilient documents. That is, it would be a mistake to take John Calvin and the Heidelberg Catechism as normative and to consider anything different as unReformed. In his own day, Calvin was not always deferred to by other Reformed leaders, and for generations his influence was eclipsed by others, such as Francis Turretin (1623–1687). The Heidelberg Catechism is the most widely used and most loved Reformed theological standard, but in some ways, such as its lack of focus on election and its de-emphasis of any differences from Lutheranism, its content is atypical. While neither Calvin’s writings nor the Heidelberg Catechism is the measure of the Reformed synthesis, both help us discern its shape. Calvin had a logical mind and a ­penchant for clear and concise prose. He was able to present the rich but unsystematic insights of the first generation of Reformed leaders in an accessible, organized, and appealing format—his famous Institutes of the Christian Religion, which was translated into multiple languages and has repeatedly influenced Reformed thought. In 1563, a ­generation after Calvin’s Institutes first appeared, the Heidelberg Catechism was written to express the Reformed synthesis in a manner harmonious with the Lutheran Augsburg Confession.9 Since then, its irenic and winsome portrait of the Reformed understanding of the faith has been continually used in Reformed communities, particularly among the Dutch, where it was long taught annually in Sunday afternoon services. Both i­llustrate much that is central to the movement. What is helpful for our purposes is not the details of either Calvin’s or the catechism’s theology, but rather the theological story they tell. While other sixteenth-century Reformed theologies do not mirror Calvin precisely, echoes can be heard in terms of emphases and the portrait of Christianity in which God consistently takes the initiative in love. Contrary to the stereotype of pessimistic depravity and deterministic predestination, Calvin portrays God reaching out to rescue human beings, who are helpless to save themselves. In the Institutes, life is portrayed as pursuit of wisdom, understood as right knowledge of God and of ourselves (Institutes 1.1.1).10 This knowledge is found in the particular orientation of the creature to the creator that Calvin calls piety: a potent mixture of reverence and love that shapes all of life (Institutes 1.2.1). In this, God takes the loving initiative, creating us in his image and filling the world with evidence of his works as a theater of his glory (Institutes 1.3.1, 1.5.1, 1.15.3).

18   gary neal hansen From the first, human beings have not lived as God intended, falling instead into sin. This has had dire consequences for our human nature in two key dimensions. First, we are blinded in our ability to know God; we are unable to benefit from the display of God’s glory in this theater of creation (Institutes 1.5.11–12). Second, we are bent, damaged in our ability to do as God calls. It is not as if we lost the general freedom of choice, whether due to sin or determinism. Rather, our choices have been limited, as when injury limits the range of motion of a joint. Choose what we will, we cannot choose the good that God originally intended: to love God not in part but with our whole being, and to love neighbors as ourselves rather than with an eye to our own benefit (Institutes 2.2.12). God takes the initiative in love to solve these problems. Instead of leaving us in spiritual blindness, God gives us the Bible to function like a pair of glasses (Institutes 1.6.1). Scripture clarifies and focuses nature’s evidence of God. In Scripture, we find the God who created the world, called a people, and came in person to redeem them. More help, however, is needed: Calvin portrays us with our glasses on but in a darkened room. Again, God takes the loving initiative to send the Holy Spirit to shed light so that the glasses work—our minds can make good use of Scripture and find the knowledge of God (Institutes 1.8.13). At this point, the problem is halfway solved. Because of the Word and Spirit, we are no longer blind to God, but we are still inclined toward sin. We need God’s help to respond with the wholehearted loving trust that is saving faith. Once again, God takes the initiative, through the Holy Spirit, who gives us faith itself as a gift so that we trust God’s promise in Christ (Institutes 3.1.4). We find that we are forgiven and adopted as beloved children—God is no longer our fearsome judge but is instead our loving father. Thus, faith makes repentance possible (Institutes 3.3.1). Through God’s loving initiative, the process of dying to the old and rising to new life has begun, but it is not complete. We are still weak in faith and lacking in love. To live a truly new life, we need God’s continual help. In this, too, God takes loving initiative, entrusting to the church the gifts of the preached Word and the sacraments. People’s faith will grow through hearing the Scriptures preached. Weak as we are, though, we need a more visceral encounter with the gospel. Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are ­portrayed as embodied preaching, an enactment of the core message of the promises of God (Institutes 4.14.1ff.). We do not merely hear with the ear. We see and touch and taste elements that are linked with God’s work in Christ. In every Baptism we see water wash flesh, conveying the washing of sin, death, and rebirth in Christ. Every celebration of the Lord’s Supper shows that we are united with Christ, flesh of his flesh and bone of his bone, never to be severed, always fed and strengthened as we grow toward full maturity (Institutes 3.1.3, 4.17.11). A different social and political setting led to the Heidelberg Catechism’s different ­version of the Reformed synthesis. While Calvin wrote in a Reformed Swiss city to train Reformed preachers, the Heidelberg Catechism was written to provide a Reformed theology for a principality of the Holy Roman Empire obliged by the Peace of Augsburg to affirm the Lutheran Augsburg Confession. The catechism makes Reformed opposition to Roman Catholic and Anabaptist views quite clear, but it is generally irenic, at least

sixteenth-century origins   19 toward other Protestants. It soft-pedals Reformed distinctives, and the influence of Lutheran theologians lies just under the surface. The catechism intended to present the faith in a way that could be learned by people at any level of understanding. It succeeded far better than any other Reformed catechism of the day, including those by Calvin. In the question and answer format pioneered by Luther, Heidelberg features the familiar elements of catechetical preparation for confirmation including a detailed explanation of the Apostles’ Creed, the Lord’s Prayer, and the Ten Commandments. The Catechism is structured not by these three texts but in three theological movements: human misery due to sin, God’s work in Christ to rescue humanity from misery, and the life of gratitude ever after for people of faith. This simple, memorable structure of “guilt, grace, and gratitude” has helped ensure the catechism’s appeal and lasting value. The Reformed emphasis is subtly evident in the order of these topics. The creed, as the explanation of what Christians believe, is the heart of the central section on redemption. Both the Lord’s Prayer and the law come in the final section on the Christian life of gratitude. Reformed views are evident, especially in that it presents the law as a guide for faithful Christian living, rather than in a stereotypically Lutheran way as that which convicts of sin. Of course, as history progressed, neither Calvin nor Heidelberg, at least as interpreted here, supplied the typical Presbyterian understanding of the Reformed tradition. Rather, the “decree” of sovereign predestination and sober Christian duty became the stereotype of Reformed Christianity. This occurred because of a shift in theological context and perspective: in sixteenth-century Protestantism, medieval people in existential ­crisis were searching for biblical assurance, whereas the seventeenth century brought a rationalistic attempt to remove contradictions and resolve every theological question. Richard Muller has shown exhaustively that this difference was not radical: the issues stressed in seventeenth-century Reformed theology have precedents in sixteenth-­ century texts.11 Nevertheless, most who read both Calvin and Westminster will recognize the difference in their ethos and emphases.

The Shape of Reformed Worship The sixteenth-century Reformed understanding of the church emphasized two key aspects of worship. As Calvin put it, “Wherever we see the Word of God purely preached and heard, and the sacraments administered according to Christ’s institution, there, it is not to be doubted, a church of God exists” (Institutes 4.1.9). His argument was relevant to the context. The Reformed were separated from the larger historic body of the Catholic Church. Whether claiming to be the one true church or simply one legitimate denomination among others, they had to make a convincing case that they were an authentic church. It is common in Reformed theological texts to draw a distinction between the church we can see, made up of all who claim to belong to Christ (the “visible church”), and the

20   gary neal hansen church whose boundaries we cannot see, made up of all of God’s elect, and known only to God (the “invisible church”). Though one would hope for a good deal of overlap, this prompted theoretical questions as to whether all in the visible church were truly members of the invisible one, or whether, at least in theory, God may have chosen some who never worship in any church. What Protestants had to deal with, though, whether deciding where to worship or defending the validity of their denomination during a controversy, was the visible church. To answer those questions, the two classic marks of the church served sixteenth-­ century Reformed Christians quite well. They could simply compare weekly worship services. Reformed pastors preached their way through the whole of the Bible, explaining it with care, and the people in the pews listened more or less intently and tried to live in light of what they learned. They saw something different among the Catholics across the border or in their own childhood memories. Preaching in Catholic churches happened only occasionally, and its purpose was not to teach the whole of the Bible. When they considered the sacraments, Reformed Christians looked at both baptism and the Lord’s Supper and declared that their own practice simply put into action what Scripture taught. They could criticize Roman Catholic sacramental practice on many biblical grounds, especially when the measure was what Christ had specifically instituted. First, Catholics celebrated five additional sacraments that Christ had not specifically instituted. The Reformed highly valued marriage, for instance, and Christ certainly honored it, but he did not invent it. Second, when it came to the two sacraments Christ did institute, Catholics did not stick to the specific elements Christ used. As well as water, wine, and bread, long-standing Catholic practice added spittle and salt in baptismal rites and added water to the wine in the Eucharist. And those basic problems all came before considering the theological content of the two sacraments: for Reformed Christians the sacraments preached gospel promises visually—baptismal washing portrays forgiveness of sin, and the Lord’s Supper portrays union with Christ and ongoing spiritual nourishment unto salvation. They decried the Roman Catholic teaching that sacraments conferred grace, baptism being a quasi-physical washing away of original sin and the Eucharist a propitiatory sacrifice. For the Reformers, the identity of the church rested primarily on its worship. What happened in the sanctuary on Sunday morning (and Sunday afternoons, and, in some places, weekday mornings as well) defined them as church. This emphasis on worship set the early Reformed apart from many of their descendants, but it should not be taken to mean that their priorities led them to neglect either individual salvation or engagement with the world. They did call individuals to faith and discipleship; they did teach spiritual practices that nurtured intimacy with God; they did build strong communities; and they did work hard to embody love of neighbor by caring for the sick, feeding the poor, and welcoming refugees. But in controversy with Catholics or other Protestants the church was defined by matters of worship. So what was the worship life they built in sixteenth-century Europe?12 Some reforms were similar to those of the Lutherans. Both Luther and the Reformed leaders changed the experience of worship radically by using the local vernacular. For Protestants, every

sixteenth-century origins   21 part of the service, not just the sermon, was to be ingested and digested. People could pray along with the minister, rather than having prayers offered on their behalf. Reformed Christians could understand the Psalms and canticles they sang and were expected to sing along. In short, the Protestant service was intended to be participatory. Among the major Protestant groups, though, the Reformed put the most weight on preaching, and they did so in two ways. First, the typical worship service focused on preaching rather than on a Eucharistic celebration. Lutherans and Anglicans preserved the centrality of the Eucharist in Sunday worship, as their Catholic predecessors had always done. The Reformed, on the other hand, typically celebrated the Lord’s Supper quarterly, omitting the sacrament the other forty-eight Sundays of the year. Second, the Reformed expected their pastor to be a biblical teacher and theologian for the community, and therefore he needed to create his own sermon. By contrast, Luther published volumes of sermons called “postils” to ensure that Lutheran pastors preached solid material, and starting in 1547 the Church of England produced books containing “Certain Sermons or Homilies appointed to Be Read in Churches.” Biblical and catechetical teaching from the Reformed pulpit was the key to the laity’s theological and spiritual formation. So much so that when a wayward or misbehaving Christian was brought before the consistory, or board of elders, in Calvin’s Geneva, the frequently ­recommended cure was to attend more sermons—for “attending sermons,” rather than “going to church,” was the Reformed term that replaced “seeing Mass.” The elders assumed that regularly listening to the exposition of the Scriptures and theological topics would naturally result in better behavior. Celebrating the Lord’s Supper only quarterly did not mean that the sixteenth-century Reformed had a low view of the sacrament, even if many of their successors in later ­centuries did. The typical Reformed Christian actually received the Eucharist more often than the typical Catholic Christian. Catholics may have seen Mass weekly, but most only received the sacrament annually—this was the minimum required by canon law, but to receive the Eucharist one first had to face the more onerous requirement of going to confession. Reformed Churches celebrated the Eucharist only four times a year, and all members were expected to receive the sacrament each time. Calvin argued that weekly celebration would be best, but the civic authorities in Geneva could not be ­convinced to adopt such a plan. Protestant views on the crucial sixteenth-century eucharistic question—the nature of the presence of Christ in the sacrament—spanned a spectrum from Zwingli to Luther, with Calvin in the middle. Luther taught that the key words were “This is my body” and that therefore Christ must be present along with the bread (known as the teaching of Christ’s “real presence”). At the opposite end was Zwingli who declared that Christ ­cannot be physically present in the Supper because he is one person and physically is present at the Father’s right hand (a view mocked as teaching Christ’s “real absence”) the most important words of Jesus are the command, “Do this in remembrance of me.” In the middle was Calvin, who said the crucial words were Jesus’ promise, that his body and blood were broken and shed “for you.” Calvin has been described as teaching that Christ’s presence is indeed real because Christ is spiritually, even if not physically, present.

22   gary neal hansen His views on the subject have often appealed to theologians, who appreciate their subtlety. It was Zwingli’s views that eventually came to be accepted by most Presbyterians, who, however, have taken them in a more simplistic memorialist manner than Zwingli’s ­writings intended. As well as insisting that all believers should receive the sacrament every time it is ­celebrated, Reformed churches showed the importance of the sacrament to their faith in the preparations they expected people to undertake prior to quarterly reception. For the Reformed, the Apostle Paul’s statement that one is at risk of receiving judgment if one participated unworthily (1 Cor. 11:27–29) were a call to self-examination and prayer in preparation. Catechetical instruction or an interview with the elders of the church ensured that all who intended to receive were doing so worthily. As early as the late ­sixteenth century in France and the Netherlands (though more prominently among the Scottish Presbyterians of the nineteenth century), those who showed the proper level of Christian instruction and the appropriate state of soul were given a token that allowed them to receive the sacrament.13 The contemporary Presbyterian service, with prayers and other liturgical elements prepared by the pastor and other worship leaders, would have been strikingly unfamiliar to sixteenth-century Reformed Christians. The reformers did not object to the Mass because it was liturgical. They assumed worship should be liturgical, but they brought its contents into alignment with Reformed theology and made exposition of Scripture its focus. The liturgies of the early Reformed Churches have strikingly similar elements while employing a variety of orders.14 Sixteenth-century Reformed Christians attempted to reform worship biblically. The reading and preaching of the Scriptures held a prominent place. A “prayer for illumination” frequently preceded the reading of Scripture, and the sermon, expressing the Reformed understanding that without the Spirit’s active help one will never find the ­saving and true meaning God intended in the Bible. The hearty, full-throated confessions of sin would shock twenty-first-century congregants. The Reformed sang their Bible, too, especially in Psalters put into rhyme and meter so that all 150 psalms could be sung through systematically. And their prayers were formed by the Bible, covering themes commanded in the New Testament as if they were on a check list. The differences of order, however, reveal perhaps the most distinctive characteristic of early Reformed worship. In the flow of a service, the very order of elements makes theological sense, embodying aspects of the Reformed journey of faith. For instance, in Zwingli’s liturgy, the preaching of the word was intended to convict hearers of sin, which was embodied by placing the confession of sin after the sermon. More typically, but equally Reformed in the story it tells, the congregation confessed their sins and then, after receiving grace, heard the word preached. And they sang with joy the Ten Commandments, vividly embodying Calvin’s view that the most important use of the law is to guide those who have come to faith as they seek to live a God-pleasing life. It was not until the seventeenth century in England, when the Westminster Assembly was giving the nascent Presbyterian Church its theological and practical marching orders, that the Reformed broke away from liturgical worship. The Presbyterians at

sixteenth-century origins   23 Westminster were opposing the Elizabethan Settlement of the Church of England, with its Book of Common Prayer, whose liturgy seemed very Roman Catholic to Protestant ears. They would have none of the Anglican priests who simply read the liturgy and the official homilies without pious vigor. They created a Directory for Worship rather than a liturgy. The Directory provided the structure of the worship service, again in a manner expressing Reformed spiritual life, with most elements positioned as preparations for the climax when God’s Word was spoken and heard, but they did not dictate the words of specific prayers or other liturgical elements.

Evolving Reformed Polity As mentioned, the word “Presbyterianism” emphasizes an issue of polity. The Reformed Protestants in Scotland struggled to put in place the style of governance they had learned from Calvin and other Reformed leaders. As well as pastors, on the continent they had “presbyters” or “elders” chosen from the people to provide shared oversight of the church’s members. The traditional Catholic system, and the one adopted by the Church of England, was to govern the church through bishops or, in Greek, episcopoi. In Scotland, there was frequent pressure from the monarchy to maintain this “episcopalian” form of government, so despite diligent efforts from the beginning of the Scottish Reformation in the 1560s, it took a very long time for Presbyterianism as a polity to take hold. True believers in any Christian tradition may be convinced that theirs is the original and biblical way of governing the church, but the evidence for any polity is neither clear nor consistent. Among the offices and leadership roles named by the New Testament are apostles, deacons, elders, bishops, pastors, teachers, and prophets, as well as people notable for having churches in their houses, and the structure does not seem consistent from place to place or over time. The evolution of roles and structures should not be surprising since the New Testament chronicles the rapid growth of a Jewish messianic movement with a dozen uneducated leaders who were soon actively welcoming the people and ways of thinking of the Hellenistic world. Within a century or so their number expanded to over a hundred thousand across the Roman world. Systems of governance had to evolve but, by the sixteenth century, the Catholic Church had a centuries-old structure of ordained offices and laws to shape its life. When Reformed Protestants found themselves independent of the Roman hierarchy, they had to decide how to govern themselves. Since they strongly criticized the biblical basis of the Catholic Church’s system of government, as well as the faith and ethics of those who occupied its offices, they were eager to rebuild on a firmer foundation. Renaissance and Protestant sensibilities prompted Reformed leaders to seek to return to biblical sources as they worked to correct the flaws of church governance. As in Reformed theology, Calvin provides a useful example of the development of Reformed polity. He was first recruited to help reform Geneva in 1536, shortly after William Farel had convinced the civic authorities to turn Protestant and shortly after

24   gary neal hansen Calvin had published the first edition of his Institutes. Their work was unsuccessful enough that by 1538 they were banished. Calvin took up the work of ministry in Strasbourg, where the Reformed church was led by Martin Bucer, the most influential and irenic of first-generation Reformed leaders. Calvin saw first-hand Bucer’s attempt to reclaim prominent New Testament offices of ministry, particularly pastors and elders.15 In Strasbourg the pastors preached and administered the sacraments, and elders were essentially laity who worked alongside them to guide the community members to pious and faithful living—to exercise “church discipline,” as they called it. When in 1541 the leaders of Geneva begged Calvin to return and lead the reform again, he put his legal training to use, drafting a set of “Ecclesiastical Ordinances” to bring to the city council for approval.16 This early attempt at a Reformed polity is a helpful example because Calvin expounded on its theological basis in the Institutes, and his implementation of it over the last two decades of his life are well documented. Calvin proposed four offices to lead and govern the church: pastors who would preach, administer the sacraments, and guide the people’s spiritual development; teachers, who would either train ministers as Calvin did, or teach in his Genevan Academy founded in 1559; elders, who would oversee the community life to ensure pious and disciplined Christian living; and deacons who would care for the poor, sick, and refugees. Calvin’s own experience as a teacher who served actively as chief pastor is a paradigm for the broader sixteenth-century picture; Reformed congregations typically had pastors, elders, and deacons, the pastors strongly emphasizing a teaching ministry. The pastors of the churches in Geneva, along with those of the surrounding countryside, were organized into “the Venerable Company of Pastors,” who met regularly for serious Bible study and theological discussion, as well as for mutual accountability, in a gathering known as the “Congregation.” This was the predecessor to the “presbytery” of the Presbyterian system, a regional gathering of pastors and elders. The Company’s ­purpose and ethos, however, were radically different from those of the presbyteries of at least some current Presbyterian denominations, in which regional and denominational business are more prominent than study and accountability. The pastors of each church met regularly with the elders, a gathering called the ­“consistory.” This is the predecessor of what Presbyterians call the “session,” though again the purposes have changed significantly over the centuries. In Calvin’s Geneva and other Reformed communities, the Consistory provided the careful moral and theological oversight that they called discipline—quite unlike the common contemporary sessions that are organized into committees and focus on administrative matters. The concern of elders with discipline was typical among the Reformed, whether in Bucer’s Strasbourg, among the Huguenots in France, among the Reformed in the Netherlands, or in Knox’s Scotland. Presbyterian session records from early in American history reveal that this remained a priority for generations. To people today, the early Reformed priority on discipline would look far more like meddling and invasiveness. Neighbors were expected, sometimes formally appointed, to inform the Consistory about those who did not live proper Christian lives. The accused were brought in to be interviewed, and their cases were adjudicated. They were

sixteenth-century origins   25 given direction on how to improve their Christian behavior. Though some of the issues may seem overwrought, others are things Christians today might wish the church could find ways to address: spousal abuse, public fighting, and basic ignorance of the Christian faith. The intent of church discipline was to authentically change people’s lives. Couples at odds were urged to reconcile. People whose ignorance led to misbehavior were instructed to learn the faith at catechism services or by attending more sermons. In a worst-case scenario, someone who refused to submit to this communal pastoral counsel would be excommunicated—though would not be banished. The excommunicated could not receive the elements at the next quarterly celebration of the Lord’s Supper. Meanwhile, they would hear more sermons, consider their lives, and come again for the Consistory’s counsel. The aim was always repentance leading to reconciliation to the church. Although this is counter to the contemporary individualistic ethos, it was the church’s attempt to help its members learn to live according to the gospel, an expression of love of neighbor. The elements of Presbyterian polity were there, but their functions were not the same as today. Congregations were to have pastors who were theologically educated and able to preach effectively, as Presbyterians still expect, though the shape of the faith taught and the priority on teaching it have changed. Elders were chosen from the members of the congregation, and these elders were to help govern the church, but the specific things thought to be important in governance have changed. Pastors met with elders in the local church and gathered in larger regional assemblies—though the work done in such gatherings has also changed.

The Church of Scotland The work of Reformation had a rough beginning in Scotland, and Presbyterianism was not established as its system of government for over 150 years. In 1547, John Knox (c. 1513–1572), who was later to become the leader of the Scottish Protestants, was holed up with other Protestant rebels in the castle at St. Andrews. After the castle was besieged by French galleys and pummeled by cannon fire, the Reformers surrendered and were sentenced to life as galley slaves. Released from that hellish existence in 1549, Knox went into exile, first in England under Edward VI (r. 1547–1553) and then, under Mary Tudor (r. 1553–1558), to Geneva, the safe haven of many refugees. He served as a pastor briefly in Frankfurt and then in Geneva, which he famously declared to be “the most perfect school of Christ that ever was in the earth since the days of the Apostles.”17 As well as agreeing with Calvin’s Reformed theology, Knox greatly admired the discipline Calvin put in place under a Presbyterian polity. In 1559, when Knox returned to Scotland, he faced a Catholic Queen Regent, Mary of Guise (1515–1560). When the Protestant nobility deposed her, Knox was free to lead the reform of the church. At the behest of the Scottish Parliament, Knox led the team that wrote the “Scots Confession” in 1560, which it approved, establishing Reformed theology

26   gary neal hansen in the Church of Scotland, severing ties with Rome, and forbidding the Mass, which was replaced with a liturgy Knox had adapted from that of Calvin. The young queen Mary Stuart (r. 1542–1567) adamantly retained her Roman Catholic practice. The Reformer met repeatedly with her, arguing theology with his queen until she was in tears, but she could not be convinced. The Scottish journey to a Presbyterian polity was more halting. In 1560 Knox also presented what came to be known as the “First Book of Discipline,” but it was not approved. It called for pastors (to be elected by the congregation), elders, and deacons (both appointed annually), and set above the pastors not a presbytery but a “superintendent.” The work of superintendents, ten in number, assigned regionally, was teaching and oversight of churches, a definition in explicit contrast to what they believed was lacking in Catholic bishops. The elders, working with the pastors, were responsible for maintaining rigorous discipline, but the deacons could be called upon to help with this process. The Second Book of Discipline (1578) proposed the same offices as found in Calvin’s ecclesiastical ordinances: pastors, teachers, elders, and deacons. It also proposed an ascending system of “elderships” or, as we might say, “presbyteries,” including pastors, teachers, and elders who were to gather at the congregational, regional, national, and international levels. King James VI (r. 1567–1625), or rather his regent, gave approval to the Reformation of the Church of Scotland in 1572, but the right to appoint bishops over it was reserved to the crown. The Scots, under the Solemn League and Covenant, rebelled against episcopacy and the imposition of the Book of Common Prayer, but at the restoration in 1660, King Charles II again imposed episcopacy on the Church of Scotland. It was not until the Acts of Union of 1707 that the Church of Scotland was formally guaranteed its ability to practice a Presbyterian system of government.18

Conclusion Later Presbyterians have kept a mixed assortment of inheritances from their sixteenthcentury forebears. What has remained most consistent are the offices by which Presbyterians govern themselves and the spirit of intellectual inquiry rooted in the Renaissance. The rationalism of the seventeenth century and the Enlightenment of the eighteenth brought substantive theological changes, and a sixteenth-century Reformed Christian transported to a twenty-first-century Presbyterian congregation might not recognize its faith or practice. The structure of worship often still embodies a Reformed understanding of the Christian life, with a biblical call to worship, a confession of sin leading to pardon, which prepares for hearing the word, leading, in turn, to a response in faith and action, and sometimes concluding with the sealing of the word in the sacrament. But in many congregations, this has given way to the simpler two-part pattern

sixteenth-century origins   27 common in American Evangelicalism, caricatured as a time of singing followed by a sermon. But even in “traditional” Presbyterian worship, sixteenth-century ideals have been displaced: hymns have largely replaced psalmody, and biblical texts are once again specified by lectionaries, rather than by the Reformed practice of lectio continua preaching (basing a series of sermons on sequential biblical passages). Reformed theology retains Calvin and other Reformers as conversation partners, but the emphases of today’s ­academic culture often supersede the pursuit of a synthesis of Biblical teaching. Some Presbyterian congregations are guided by the ideals of Westminster; others live by ideals rooted in nineteenth-century liberalism. Often the fighting spirit of John Knox his countrymen lives on, sometimes with a dose of his polemical anti-Catholicism. Church discipline is no longer a priority. Whether the sixteenth century provides roots from which a more Reformed tree has grown or whether present-day Presbyterianism has evolved into a different species is a matter worthy of debate.

Notes 1. Steven Ozment, The Age of Reform, 1250–1550: An Intellectual and Religious History of Late Medieval and Reformation Europe (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1980). 2. Though there are many newer tellings of the story of Luther’s life and context, the most vivid remains Roland Bainton, Here I Stand: A Life of Martin Luther (Nashville, TN: Abingdon, 1950). 3. On nominalism, see Heiko Oberman, The Harvest of Medieval Theology: Gabriel Biel and Late Medieval Nominalism (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1963). 4. Martin Luther, The Ninety-Five Theses and Other Writings, translated, edited, and with an introduction by William R. Russell (New York: Penguin, 2017), 1–13. 5. George Huntston Williams, The Radical Reformation (Kirksville, MO: Truman State University Press, 1992). 6. “The Marburg Colloquy and Marburg Articles, 1529,” in Luther’s Works, vol. 38, Word and Sacrament IV (Philadelphia: Fortress 1976), 3–90. 7. R.  Ward Holder, John Calvin and the Grounding of Interpretation: Calvin’s First Commentaries (Leiden, the Netherlands: Brill, 2006), 87–138. 8. For a fuller exposition of the shared theological perspectives among the sixteenth-century Reformed theologians, see Emidio Campi, “Theological Profile,” in A Companion to the Swiss Reformation, ed. Amy Nelson Burnett and Emidio Campi (Leiden, the Netherlands: Brill, 2016), 447–488. 9. Lyle  D.  Bierma, The Heidelberg Catechism: A Reformation Synthesis (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 1–12. 10. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John  T.  McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 35. Further references to this work will be parenthetical notes by book, chapter, and section. 11. Richard  A.  Muller, After Calvin: Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2003), 25–104. 12. For a fuller treatment of the subject of this section and the next one, “Evolving Reformed Polity,” see Bruce Gordon, “Polity and Worship in the Swiss Reformed Churches,” in Burnett and Campi, Companion to the Swiss Reformation, 489–519.

28   gary neal hansen 13. Raymond A. Mentzer Jr., “The Reformed Churches of France and the Visual Arts,” Seeing beyond the Word: Visual Arts and the Calvinist Tradition, ed. Paul Corbey Finney (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1999), 220–221. 14. Bard Thompson, Liturgies of the Western Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980). The volume contains English translations of the liturgies of Zwingli, Bucer, Calvin, and Knox, as well as non-Reformed and post-sixteenth-century Reformed materials. 15. Martin Bucer, Concerning the True Care of Souls, trans. Peter Beale (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2009), 17–40. 16. Scott M. Mantesch, Calvin’s Company of Pastors: Pastoral Care and the Emerging Reformed Church, 1536–1609 (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2013), 24–31. 17. Letter XIII to Mr. Locke, 9 December 1556, in Writings of the Rev. John Knox, Minister of God’s Word in Scotland (London: Religious Tract Society, n.d.), 454. 18. Andrew  T.  N.  Muirhead, Reformation, Dissent, and Diversity: The Story of Scotland’s Churches, 1560–1960 (London: Bloomsbury T & T Clark, 2015), 48.

Bibliography Bierma, Lyle D. The Heidelberg Catechism: A Reformation Synthesis. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Burnett, Amy Nelson, and Emidio Campi, eds. A Companion to the Swiss Reformation. Leiden: Brill, 2016. Holder, R. Ward. John Calvin and the Grounding of Interpretation: Calvin’s First Commentaries. Leiden: Brill, 2006. Manetsch, Scott M. Calvin’s Company of Pastors: Pastoral Care and the Emerging Reformed Tradition, 1536–1509. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2013. Muirhead, Andrew T. N. Reformation, Dissent and Diversity: The Story of Scotland’s Churches, 1560–1960. London: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2015. Muller, Richard A. After Calvin: Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2003. Ozment, Steven. The Age of Reform, 1250–1550: An Intellectual and Religious History of Late Medieval and Reformation Europe. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1980. Thompson, Bard. Liturgies of the Western Church. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1980.

chapter 3

The Sev en teen th Cen tu ry a n d th e W estm i nster Assem bly Chad Van Dixhoorn

Introduction The Presbyterian century was the seventeenth century. These were not the years when the movement began or the ones in which it most flourished. Nonetheless, from the closing scenes of the sixteenth century to the opening act of the eighteenth, presbyterial discipline and government defined itself with increasing clarity against opposing ideologies and subversive economic and political elements. And it was during these decades that Presbyterians found themselves most in the public eye, both in their moments of glory and in their seasons of defeat. By the mid-seventeenth century, a shared storyline of the early life of Presbyterian church government was commonplace, and it was rehearsed not only in the writings of prominent Presbyterian polemicists but even in the collectively authored texts of a major synod of divines. Presbyterian advocacy literature produced by the members of the Westminster Assembly routinely asserted that candid church fathers and medieval scholars admitted that the New Testament instituted only the offices of deacon and elder and specified no degrees of order among or superior to elders. These same Presbyterian apologists insisted that the New Testament offered a presbyterial structure of church government that had existed in some form for at least the first two centuries, and that traces of this government could be found even in the early fifth century. They also argued, negatively, that non-Presbyterian forms of church governance tended to be associated with deviant theologies and, positively, that the church governance of the Protestant Reformers came closer to a Presbyterian form than to any other form. Finally, and emphatically, Presbyterians insisted that the error of Erastianism, which resituated the government of the church under the authority of the state, was recent in the history

30   chad van dixhoorn of ecclesiology and should be considered suspect, in part, because of its late date and “new fangled language.”

European and Atlantic Presbyterianism Pre-1640 Nonetheless, even if those sympathetic to Presbyterianism defended this account of early church history; to narrate the history of early modern Presbyterianism was—and is—to enter the controversy itself. The history of Presbyterianism raises questions about its origins, consistency and development: should the story begin with city-states of Switzerland or the national reformation of Scotland? Was Reformation Presbyterianism already a spent force by the turn of the sixteenth century? Or, as the Episcopalians and Erastians would ask, did presbyterial government ever exist on the European continent in a form that later Presbyterian advocates would be willing to practice? Perhaps the prize of John Calvin’s Geneva legacy belonged to the Congregationalists, and not to Presbyterians at all. To those surveying the world of Presbyterianism from the midpoint—and arguably the high point—of the century, these questions were neither easy nor impossible to answer. Members of the Westminster Assembly, for example, routinely professed their admiration for continental Presbyterian polities in either their correspondence or in printed publications.1 Although they were familiar with published statements of continental church history and polity, many members also enjoyed more personal connections to European Reformed churches. Divines at the assembly had traveled on the continent, worshipped at various Protestant churches, and served as chaplains to English forces in Northern Europe. Even those who could not travel themselves sometimes had church members who took business trips abroad and brought stories home. What is more, at least three assembly members were ministers of French Reformed congregations, and some of the Congregationalists had pastored in the Netherlands. No one was surprised, then, that the assembly debates were punctuated with references to the polity of foreign churches, chiefly those in the Netherlands, Scotland, France, and Geneva.2 Just as Rome, ironically, presents one of the more problematic examples of the early development of episcopacy, so too, Geneva offers a complicated starting point for the histories of Reformation Presbyterianism. Here it is enough to say that seventeenth-­ century Presbyterians everywhere would assert that, despite the complications caused by Geneva’s heavy-handed civil government and the irregularities that attached themselves to having a major reformer at the helm of the church, the main elements of a truly biblical ecclesiology resurfaced under Calvin’s leadership. Throughout “the long seventeenth century” Geneva remained both the de facto clearinghouse for works of theology and the celebrated model for Presbyterian polity. In fact,

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   31 in the 1600s, Geneva actually became even more Presbyterian than it had been during the sixteenth century: post-Reformation Geneva made renewed efforts to reinforce ­parity among ministers (both urban and rural) by electing a new moderator of the consistory each week—a practice that would have been unthinkable under the quasiepiscopal tenures of the influential John Calvin and Theodore Beza.3 Yet though Presbyterian discipline was still in force in the city-state, it was the legacy of Geneva more than its continuing practices that informed practices and polemics ­elsewhere. Texts from Calvin’s pen, not least his catechism and church order, were widely adopted or employed by Reformed churches. The Genevan Academy that Calvin founded in 1559 continued to be heavily invested in the ministry of the church of France. Nevertheless, throughout the seventeenth century, Heinrich Bullinger’s Second Helvetic Confession garnered the widest support among European “Calvinist” churches, and the church polities of the French, Scottish, and Dutch would be cited far more often at the Westminster Assembly than would the polity of Geneva. The Reformed Church in France was a contemporary source of inspiration for worldwide seventeenth-century Presbyterianism. French Protestants developed notoriously strong antibodies to episcopacy. Even though tradition permitted regional superintendents in the French Reformed Church, the practice never got off the ground and was forbidden in the church’s polity. The moderatorship of meetings was deliberately circulated through a pool of available ministers, and parity between those ministers was clearly affirmed. Yet there were limits to egalitarianism. Those who wanted to take anti-episcopalianism a step further were unsuccessful: congregationalist polity, especially the kind minimizing the authority of elders, found little traction in seventeenthcentury France. Admittedly, the French Reformed Church constantly tinkered with its presbyterial polity, from the first draft of its government in 1559 to its final synod in 1659. It did so in  part because new problems or scenarios required collective decisions that the ­original framers of the church’s order had not anticipated. Many changes—most of them ­additions—were intended to handle situations wherein persecution deprived the church of its leaders or to help the church deal with a hostile civil government. Both cases consumed increasing amounts of time at later synods. When, at the end of the seventeenth century, the English Presbyterian John Quick offered a tidy version of the polity of the French Reformed Church, he also supplied the acta of its twenty-nine synods, revealing the growth of what he alternately called their “discipline” or their “canon law.”4 A sympathetic reading of these texts indicates that these were refinements in Presbyterian polity, not modifications of its structure, and the whole body of this developing discipline was characterized by a thoroughness that was much admired abroad. Versions of this French polity were printed in 1653 and reprinted in Geneva and Paris in 1663 and 1667 and elsewhere later in the century.5 Without doubt, the Reformed Church of seventeenth-century France (and for short periods of time, in its territories throughout the new world) was Presbyterian in principle: under the heading of the union of churches, canons insisted that no congregation could claim primacy over another; thus, “No church shall assume unto it self a power of

32   chad van dixhoorn undertaking business of great consequence, in which the interest or damage of other churches shall be compromised.” (An almost identical principle would be pressed at the Westminster Assembly.) It was also Presbyterian in its structures: consistories were subject to colloquies, and colloquies to provincial synods; decrees of the provincial synods were to be ratified in national synods; and appeals heard by higher courts resulted in instructions being sent to lower ones. The church was most obviously Presbyterian in its practice. On a congregational level, elders, not members, were called to rule local churches, and elections to the elderships of local churches were in some cases subject to the review of presbyteries or “provincial synods” (as in cases when multiple family members were part of one congregational consistory, thus threatening to replace a biblical polity with a local oligarchy). Elders and deacons were normally to be chosen by the congregation’s eldership, and the congregation merely offered its consent. Irresolvable differences were to be referred to the regional presbytery rather than being permitted to remain at the local church level, where they could fester and eventually infect the whole of the body. Church officers were not necessarily to serve for life, but only for as long as possible, although they were not to cease serving without the permission of the church. Notably, elders and deacons were not to assert primacy over each other, and in the “present distress” of seventeenth-century France, deacons could join in the government of Congregational consistories with the pastor(s) and elders and could even be elected to synods.6 On a regional level, French presbyteries had the power to admit and to discipline ministers, or to relocate or loan ministers to other congregations (should those congregations and the ministers concur); ministers were not allowed to accept a new call without a presbytery’s consent. Ministers could be deposed by congregational elderships, but they could appeal to the next synod. Congregational excommunications could not be appealed to a presbytery because the action would have been redundant. Presbyteries were required to confirm all the excommunications pronounced before congregations. Presbyterian connectionalism was not only governmental but also monetary. Congregations that did not contribute financially to the larger body of the church were to be severely censured. But French ecclesiastical discipline also tried to be pastoral. Perhaps sensitive to the common Congregationalist charge that discipline at the level of a regional presbytery could be cold and impersonal, one canon insisted: “All possible care shall be taken, that those formalities and terms which are used in Courts of Law, may be avoided in the exercise of Church Discipline.” The national synod of the French Reformed Church often insisted that ministers and church courts conduct themselves in a pastorally sensitive manner. “Pastoral care” by the national synod itself (such as the consideration of cases of conscience) was undertaken in its early years but had become untenable by the turn of the seventeenth century because of the growth of the church.7 By the start of the seventeenth century, the national assembly only had time to hear appeals (it had begun hearing appeals in 1562). Appeals dealt with actual cases involving plaintiffs or accusers, cases that could not be settled in the lower courts of the church: Who is the rightful pastor of the Church of Saint-Jean-d’Angély? What should the church do about an unnamed couple that was kept from “conjugal performances by

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   33 witchcraft,” had therefore divorced and each spouse remarried, and now wanted to partake of the Lord’s Supper? Should a congregation be reimbursed for its expenditures in sending a Mssr. le Blanc to be trained at Geneva, after which he had served them for a short time and then was called to another congregation?8 Foreign observers found the French Reformed Church interesting because of the rigor of its discipline and the depth of its doctrinal debates. And yet most impressive to a watching, worrying, and praying Protestant world was its commitment to a Reformed church order in the face of intense persecution. Who could fail to be moved by the seventeenth-century French synod at which “the pastors and elders did all unanimously protest to live and die” by their confession?9 While French Presbyterianism had defined itself clearly in a state dominated by a hostile Roman Catholic leadership, Scottish Presbyterianism struggled to retain its polity in the face of a meddling Protestant monarchy. After separating from the Catholic hierarchy, Presbyterians in the late sixteenth century called for the redistribution of Scottish episcopal wealth to benefit the church at large. But reform-minded ministers were outmaneuvered by King James VI of Scotland (and later by King James I of England), who adroitly appropriated the bishops’ property for the crown’s use. Unable to redirect episcopal assets, sixteenth-century reformers did manage to transfer virtually all episcopal functions to presbyteries. Their only oversight was to fail to formally abolish the office of bishop. It was a fateful mistake, which James made the most of as his power grew. By the turn of the seventeenth century, the king began to gradually reintroduce bishops into the Scottish Kirk. Famously, James had declared that “presbytery . . . agreeth with monarchy as God with the devil.” Literarily, it was not a flattering parallel. Rhetorically, the point was crystal clear. And thus for some years the crown’s advocacy of episcopacy rivaled a resurgent grass-roots advocacy of Presbyterianism; but it was a contest James won decisively: in little more than a decade, episcopacy was firmly in place as an ecclesiastical superstructure closely connected to the monarchy, overlaying a Presbyterianism that was less responsive to the king’s wishes. Royal control of the Scottish Kirk was strongest between 1618 and 1638. No General Assembly was permitted to meet without royal permission, and that permission was not forthcoming. James and then his son Charles I suppressed these assemblies. Presbyterians, in turn, increasingly grew to dislike Erastian principles, as the state repeatedly interfered in the work of the church. Fatefully, in 1637, Charles I and Archbishop William Laud took steps to consolidate the Scottish episcopacy and to institute an adaptation of the English liturgy in Scotland. The effort backfired loudly. At the 1638 General Assembly in Glasgow, the king’s commissioner lost control of the assembly, which went on to depose the kirk’s bishops and declare a rule of Christ in the church through kirk sessions, presbyteries, synods, and general assemblies. Military forces sympathetic to a Presbyterian kirk intimidated and then repelled the royalist forces that were seeking to wrest control away from the “Covenanters” (at this point in history, a term used to describe the broad coalition that in a 1638 National Covenant had sworn to uphold the conclusions of the Glasgow Assembly).

34   chad van dixhoorn On the roller-coaster ride of seventeenth-century Presbyterianism, 1638 was one of the high-water marks for Presbyterians in the English-speaking world. During the lowest ebb, some of these same Presbyterians sailed to the Netherlands to obtain an ecclesiastical safe haven. It was also natural that Scottish merchants and soldiers ­stationed in Amsterdam wanted a church for themselves, and with expatriate English Puritans, they formed a Presbyterian congregation under the leadership of Englishman John Paget in the early seventeenth century.10 Walter Travers was ordained by a “presbytery” of French and Dutch ministers in 1578, a practice that continued in English worship in the Netherlands into the 1630s. Keith Sprunger argues that for more than fifty years thereafter, “the Merchant Adventurers maintained a Reformed, Presbyterian-style church.” But Sprunger also concludes that there were un-Presbyterian elements in most Dutch congregations and that the English churches chose not to submit themselves to the discipline of the synods of the Dutch Reformed Church, though they expressed appreciation for much of Dutch church’s polity.11 The Dutch had already established a recognizably Presbyterian church government in 1571, and they held their first synod in 1578. The most important Dutch synod of the seventeenth century, however—and the only national synod—was the famous Synod of Dordrecht in 1618–1619, at which the Dutch States General and the church’s Reformed majority condemned “Arminian” Remonstrants. The canons of the synod—what contemporaries called “the first general Council of the Churches in our days”—were adopted not only by the church in the Netherlands but also by Reformed and Presbyterian churches elsewhere in Europe, including Geneva and France.12 This synod was a rare event, and observers acknowledged that they would probably not see another assembly like it again.13 After the synod had ended, the Dutch government promptly prohibited further synodical assemblies—a ruling that remained in force until 1795. But to the embarrassment of the episcopally committed British Delegation to the Synod of Dordt, the synod’s work had not only made dogmatic pronouncements but had also established a discernably Presbyterian form of church government for the Netherlands.14 And even without the apparent possibility of a national synod, provincial synods, regional classes (the equivalent of presbyteries), and local consistories continued to meet.15 Not surprisingly, elements of seventeenth-century Dutch Reformed polity appealed to seventeenth-century Congregationalists. The classis was charged with examining ministers, but its representatives did not need to be present for the laying on of hands (Art. 4). In some situations, the ordination of a minister could be conducted in a congregation instead of in a larger body (Art. 4). Lay preaching was permitted under the oversight of the elders (Art. 5). And though ministers could not move to a new church without the concurrence of a congregational eldership and diaconate, such a move required only informing the classis, not obtaining its permission (Art. 10). Nonetheless, many elements of the church order were incompatible with a Congregationalist conception of ecclesiology even if not every feature was uniquely or essentially Presbyterian. In small churches that had only one minister (and presumably

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   35 no other elders), for instance, church discipline was to be exercised “with the advice of two neighboring churches” (Art. 75). A local congregation’s input on the choice of ministers was limited to the right to object to the candidates who were presented to them (Art. 4). Ruling elders and deacons guilty of gross sins were to be immediately deposed from office by the consistory, but whether to depose ministers was “up to the judgment of the classis” (Art. 79). Strikingly, the ordination or relocation of ministers was also not to take place without consulting the Christian authorities of the place where the ordination would be performed (Arts. 4 and 10). Perhaps this was intended to be in keeping with Paul’s injunction to Timothy that a potential elder “have a good reputation with outsiders” (1 Tim. 2:7). Perhaps it was simply a necessary step given the Dutch state’s interest in the government of the church and the prevalence of Erastian sentiments among early modern magistrates. The church order of Dordrecht stipulated limited terms of service for elders and ­deacons (Art. 27). As in the French church, the consistory—not only elders but also deacons—was expected to play a leadership role in the church, although the nature of the governing capacity of the deacons is unclear. Elders and deacons were to be chosen by the consistory, and if members of the congregation desired, they, too, could choose officers. The number of elders or deacons chosen by the congregation, however, was not to outnumber the appointees of the existing consistory (Arts. 22 and 24). As did most Presbyterian systems, the church order called for delegated assemblies at all levels above the consistory and allowed for appeals from minor assemblies to major ones (Arts. 31, 33, and 36). Where local gatherings of Christians lacked a consistory, for example, the classis (not the congregation) was to govern until the congregation could elect its own elders. Geneva’s polity visibly impacted the French, Scottish, and Dutch Protestant churches. These national churches, in turn, provided models for other early seventeenth-century Presbyterian movements. A Presbyterian form of government was established in the Caribbean in the early decades of the century, deliberately modeled on the polity of the French church.16 Presbyterianism in Ireland was born through Scottish emigration and shaped by Scottish polity. It survived and for some years even thrived (especially in the eight years following the Six Mile Water Revival of 1625) as an underground movement under the benevolent rule of Archbishop James Ussher of Armaugh—until he lost control of the Irish church in a power struggle with Archbishop William Laud of Canterbury. Presbyterianism also made its way east, where, with the support of local or regional magistrates, it was practiced in Hungarian territories and elsewhere in central Europe. Presbyterian polity was attractive to Hungarian civil leaders in the sixteenth century as a way of controlling society and, in the seventeenth century, as a way of controlling the clergy. Initially, Reformed churches in central Europe were influenced chiefly by the German Reformed Church and its educational institutions. As the century progressed, the Dutch churches and universities began to have a more pronounced impact than the German ones.17

36   chad van dixhoorn

The Westminster Assembly and Wars of Religion (1640–1660) In England, the ecclesiological landscape was more complicated than that on the continent. Even after the break with Rome, the ecclesial form of the Church of England at the Reformation remained episcopal, and bishops lived like minor ecclesiastical princes. When Presbyterian theorists and underground “Presbyterian” activity arose in England in the late sixteenth century, the authorities vigorously suppressed them. But the nascent presbyterial nature of these “conferences” of ministers may be clearer to historians than it was to the participants: proto-Presbyterians saw the meetings as a step toward creating a regional church with real authority; proto-Congregationalists saw them as merely advisory and as an end in themselves. What happened to English Presbyterianism between 1600 and the start of the Westminster Assembly is ardently debated among historians. Diverging perspectives on Presbyterian fortunes are helpful in that they prompt more-nuanced readings of texts that were previously identified as Presbyterian literature. For example, the authors of the tracts by “Smectymnuus” all came to identify themselves as Presbyterians at the Westminster Assembly, but that does not mean that they were card-carrying Presbyterians when they authored the anti-episcopal pamphlets. One reason for the difficulty of categorizing Puritan literature on polity is the home-brewed terminology. This may be most prevalent in England, where standard Presbyterian terms used elsewhere on the island and in Europe were not always used by parish pastors willing to tinker with English church governance. The best illustration of this may be in the major monograph of the future Westminster Assembly member Oliver Bowles. First published posthumously, in 1649, his De Pastore Evangelico was popular in England and elsewhere, and it circulated widely in manuscript form for many years. As the title suggests, Bowles was ostensibly offering a manual of pastoral theology. (Offering a manual on Presbyterian polity during the difficult prewar decades would hardly have been safe!) The table of contents is also cautious, and Bowles opens the third part of the book by announcing that the pastor must exercise his office in conjunction with others but that he will not discuss the topic at any length in his treatise. Nonetheless, both in the introduction and in the first chapter of De Pastore Evangelico, Bowles suggests substantial modifications, even alternatives, to England’s episcopal governance. Almost all these modifications trend in a Presbyterian direction, even if he hides his Presbyterian ideas behind episcopal terms. For example, Bowles refers to “rectors” when he is clearly advocating for “ruling elders.” That such unusual features sometimes attach themselves to the history of English Presbyterianism promises to keep historians of ecclesiology employed for some time to come. But as the decades leading up to the 1640s are interpreted in the history of church governance, there can be no doubt that the “Scottish” monster that English episcopalians so much dreaded did finally and demonstrably surface, rearing its head

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   37 during the English civil wars of the 1640s. It is an event celebrated in Presbyterian historiography and deserves a special place in a chapter on Presbyterian governance in the seventeenth century. In recent decades, historians have stressed that the Westminster Assembly was not only a parachurch synod of sorts, but also a political appendage of the Parliament that summoned theologians to meet in Westminster Abbey, across the street from the Parliament buildings. By 1643, the significant rebel remnants of the House of Lords and House of Commons, at war with Charles I and his largely episcopal following, had signaled their intention to do away with the hierarchy of the Church of England. Starting in the autumn of 1643, the Westminster Assembly (Parliament’s advisory think-tank) was supplemented by a bevy of Scottish ministers and nobles. Together, these English members and Scottish commissioners and dozens of monitors from members of both houses of Parliament would attempt to create a system of church governance from the ground up. If the assembly’s deliberations on church governance must be framed by various ­seventeenth-century expressions of European church polity and cannot properly be understood outside its relation to political events (and civil war politics without the assembly), it is also true that the assembly’s debates must be contextualized by long-­ running debates about ecclesiological principles. Chroniclers of the assembly’s history have long noted that the assembly closely studied patristic and reformation polities, and recent historical work has deepened this discussion by showing the assembly’s reliance on medieval literature also.18 Nonetheless, the assembly’s deliberations have often been narrated with scant attention to the wider international and deeper intellectual contexts; they have employed instead a simpler rubric of polity deficiencies in England and polity perfections in Scotland. Scottish Presbyterianism is, of course, clearly important to the assembly’s history and for the entire history of seventeenth- century polity. In fact, the Scottish ministers at the Westminster Assembly have long been remembered in Presbyterian lore for leading the way in articulating a rigorous model of biblical polity, and this characterization is not without justification. Nonetheless, some Englishmen at the gathering were self-consciously committed to something that looked like Presbyterianism; they had been persecuted for opposing episcopacy, but they still distinguished themselves from Congregationalists. In that regard, there may be significance in the fact that Oliver Bowles, one of England’s proto-Presbyterian theorists, was summoned to preach the first of the many fast-day sermons held during the tenure of the assembly. Debates at the Westminster Assembly between Presbyterians and their Dissenting Brethren espousing a differing polity are infamous. So, too, are debates between Presbyterians and those Episcopalians and Erastians who held that many aspects of church polity are matters of adiaphora, and could therefore be determined either by the church hierarchy or by the state. But Presbyterians also debated church governance among themselves. If some members arrived with commitments fully formed, most did not. Presbyterianism looked safe from a distance, but members still wondered if it was fit for use at home. Efforts to devise a detailed polity for England and Scotland and to articulate the best theological infrastructure to support Presbyterian practice would generate extensive debates among the Presbyterians themselves.

38   chad van dixhoorn The first polity point to debate in 1643 was England’s episcopal heritage. The gathering grasped the thorny topic with both hands, asking about the number of offices in the church, and whether the rule of bishops should be replaced by ruling ministers and elders. The assembly was attempting to delimit offices in order to define the tasks of a pastor and draft a directory for ordination. The effort itself was momentous. No major Reformed church had moved from episcopalianism to Presbyterianism since the Reformation era. None could have done so, because every church except the Church of England (and by extension, the Church of Ireland) had chosen a nonepiscopal form from the beginning. Some Presbyterian members of the assembly found the discussion of ruling elders challenging because they had sworn canonical obedience to bishops and had affirmed that episcopal government was not contrary to the Word of God. Some of them preferred to merely loosen canonical obedience rather than overhaul the system in toto. They would merely modify the episcopate so that bishops would function alongside presbyters in the exercise of ministerial oversight. Other Presbyterians wished to transfer all the responsibilities of bishops to parish ministers. They were not persuaded that an office of oversight should be transferred to ruling elders, a nonclerical office in the church whose occupants might overrule parish ministers if they enjoyed numerical superiority. Others, including all the assembly’s Congregationalists, all Scottish commissioners, and some English Presbyterians, were convinced that every congregation should have ruling elders. Still others, representing a subset of the English Presbyterians, conceded that the office of ruling elder was biblical, but they were not convinced that the scriptures required every congregation to have them; and a few of these members, in turn, thought that a single elder could be sufficient for a congregation.19 But they advocated a lone preaching and not a lone ruling elder: indeed, the assembly expressed alarm that two ruling elders could be considered sufficient to perform important acts of government.20 The assembly’s earliest church governance discussion was also its earliest ecclesiological contest. The assembly had to decide whether a debate about church polity first required a debate about underlying church theory. It was a debate over episcopacy, but the assembly’s Dissenting Brethren had a vested interest in how the assembly would proceed. Having a remarkably unified ecclesiology themselves, and having shrewdly determined that assembly members drifting toward a united Presbyterian polity were actually divided about ecclesiology, the Congregationalists argued that the assembly should settle theoretical principles before it voted on points of practice. The encouragement for the assembly to debate ecclesiology before polity, or the existence of a thing before the thing itself, may have been standard scholastic procedure. Nonetheless, a debate on ecclesiological principles would have immediately divided the Presbyterians: when it came to theories of church governance, most of the Presbyterians who had a theoretical starting point found it in the unity of the church (in common with episcopal theorists); but other Presbyterians began with the rights and privileges of local congregations (in common with Congregationalist Dissenting Brethren). The Congregationalists offered a hook without the bait, and the Presbyterians refused to even nibble. After all, some ways of establishing polity do not require a unified

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   39 commitment to an ecclesiological principle. Worse, it was a tactical maneuver without a strategy. The Congregationalist artillery of choice was the large theory. And if this option had been deployed, and if their theory entailed a set of necessary polity consequences that were obvious to all, one side might have won more decisively and quickly. But the Presbyterians, though lacking any clear strategy of their own, cared more about success than efficiency. Once the assembly determined to build its polity inductively, verse by verse, rather than deductively (as the Congregationalists tended to do), the Congregationalists were at a distinct disadvantage. What is more, the Dissenting Brethren and the moderate Presbyterians open to including Congregationalists in a newly formed church would later struggle to find an opportunity to present Congregationalism as a complete package on the assembly floor. And in the present debate, finding no unifying ecclesiological starting point, the Presbyterians at the gathering chose to take episcopacy down, one street at a time. Congregationalists could only attack the Presbyterian flank, slowing its progress and making it more painful, but not halting the advance. The problem with using military metaphors here is that they imply that a combative atmosphere characterized the assembly. The assembly did involve heated exchanges, occasional loaded words and phrases, and moments—even seasons—of real frustration. The Congregationalists insisted on the sufficiency of the local church—every congregation ought to be a self-contained unit that could conduct every aspect of not only worship and teaching but also governance, including ordination. The Presbyterians tended to insist that the government of the church express as fully as possible the visible unity of the church. Therefore any act of governance that impacted the regional church had to be conducted by the regional presbytery. The most obvious example was the ordination of a minister to one local congregation who would nonetheless commonly exercise his ministry of word and sacrament in other area churches and, perhaps later in life, in another congregation. The Congregationalists opposed the involvement of the regional church in local church affairs; but despite these differences, the tone at the assembly was cordial even after it was clear that one party had won and the other party could do nothing much to change the results. Still drafting the directory for ordination, the Presbyterians in the assembly debated— against the same small but well-connected group of Congregationalists—whether congregational elderships had the right to conduct all acts of government themselves, including the ordination of ministers (and, later, the excommunication of members). All parties agreed that ordination would not be performed by a bishop, but the Presbyterians’ position that ordination be done by the laying on of the hands of the regional presbytery, not by the eldership of a local congregation, eventually triumphed. Throughout the debate, members based their arguments on relevant, but sometimes obscure, scriptural passages. But members also invoked the practices of the Reformed churches, by which the Presbyterians meant Reformed churches in Europe, and the Congregationalists meant Reformed churches in America. To win a debate in the assembly was one thing; to win a debate with Parliament was another. The majority in the House of Commons did not like the assembly’s insistence that ministerial ordination was an ordinance of Christ. The assembly’s proposed directory

40   chad van dixhoorn for ordination had two parts: a doctrinal introduction with proof texts and a practical how-to manual. The Commons completely removed the doctrinal part, meddled with the doctrinal comments interspersed in the practical part, and published the directory as a declaration from Westminster’s politicians rather than a determination of Westminster’s theologians. This was a crushing disappointment for Presbyterians. Only the publication of the text by Scottish players allowed the English people to see the assembly’s original work in its entirety. Members of the House of Lords tended to be more sympathetic to the assembly’s work than were members of the House of Commons. But both houses included various parties and lobbies whose responses to the assembly texts were determined by personal conviction, by the need to appease another party or delay a conflict on a political matter that required cooperation, or by the time that was available for debate during the vagaries of a civil war that Parliament was not always winning. In 1644, the majority in the Westminster Assembly began contending for a governmental connectivity between local congregations by means of regional presbyteries of ministers and elders. Now that the Directory for Ordination was finished, it was time to produce a directory for church government. Once again, Congregationalist and Presbyterian convictions did not entirely coalesce. Everyone at assembly agreed that a disciplinary suspension of church members from communion at the Lord’s table should be initiated at the congregational level. But in contrast to the Congregationalist and the Dutch churches (and to most Presbyterian denominations today), the majority in the assembly thought that presbyteries should oversee the excommunication of church members (in a manner similar to the French and Scottish churches). Naturally, the idea that synods of the church could function as regional courts was another bone of contention for the divines at the assembly. The Congregationalists approved of synods to help churches determine doctrine but not to perform any other duties. The Presbyterians responded by citing the appeal determined by the Jerusalem synod and construing the actions of the synod as a normal part of church life. Congregationalists replied that any authoritative action in Acts 15 was linked to the apostles’ role at the church’s first synod. Presbyterians accentuated the repeated references to the participation of elders (and not just apostles) in the synod. They also emphasized that the synod’s determinations were to be communicated to other churches, not simply to the Antiochene church that presented the matter (see Acts 15:1, 22, 23). Here, as in other disagreements about church governance, the assembly would ultimately submit majority and minority reports to Parliament. And after the first time the Congregationalists printed one of their reports, their Presbyterian counterparts were also always given permission to print their much lengthier replies. Ironically, this gave Presbyterians the opportunity that Parliament had earlier denied them: through these exchanges, the biblical underpinnings of Presbyterian polity were communicated to a wider public, although the reports were in-depth replies to particular arguments that assumed considerable background knowledge. In fact, this was all the public saw of

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   41 the assembly’s polity for some time, since the House of Commons simply sat on the completed Directory for Church Government without taking immediate action. Meanwhile, the issue of church discipline took another turn. The assembly had petitioned Parliament to consider keeping away from the Lord’s table those whose life or profession of faith did not satisfy minimum requirements (which were yet to be determined). But any movement toward a concept of selective church membership, determined by participation at the Lord’s table, was bound to be a ticklish business: England’s government had long required attendance at the supper of all citizens as a device to smoke out closet sectarians and Roman Catholics who might recuse themselves for reasons of conscience, and could thus be punished in some way. And what specific action would the assembly recommend? Would current parish residents be “grandfathered” into the church’s membership, while future members (usually young people) would be required to undergo a spiritual examination? Would the entire membership of the church be “excommunicated” and then a subset of them readmitted after examination? The assembly wanted to assign this task to local elderships and to provide few details about how to accomplish it. The House of Lords did not object. The House of Commons, however, insisted that everyone should attend the Lord’s Supper unless their conduct was scandalous or their doctrine was particularly ill informed. Members of the assembly thought the idea of legislated standards of scandal and ignorance was pastorally clumsy. The assembly wrote to Parliament about the subject fourteen times from March to September 1645, cajoling, complaining, and offering counterproposals every time the Commons offered too short a list of supper-prohibiting points related to ignorance or scandal. Each communication included a petition that that gave the minister and elders the freedom to assess each candidate for communion using their God-given wisdom. Each time, the assembly was ignored or told that it would be too time-consuming or that such rule by elders could produce the same ecclesiastical tyranny that had occurred under the rule of bishops. In desperation, the assembly cited the polities of the Reformed churches in Geneva, the Netherlands, France, Germany, Poland, what is now the Czech Republic, and Scotland.21 When this failed, the divines haltingly and grudgingly cooperated to the extent that the assembly authored a two-part document containing a long (not very helpful) list of sins to avoid before coming to the table and a short (much more helpful) statement of what persons needed to believe in order to attend the supper—a kind of “shorter confession” designed for vetting church members rather than church officers. What the assembly would not do was to acknowledge the text as its own, for it symbolized Parliament’s lack of trust in and freedom for the eldership of local churches. Recognizing this, Parliament ensured that the printed document made no mention of the assembly’s input, and the statement was for centuries not recognized to be the work of the Westminster Assembly. Eventually heeding repeated reminders from the assembly that English people were too creative in their sins of commission to ever codify a definitive list of their scandalous transgressions, the House of Commons set up a standing committee in the capital to which local elderships could write for advice if a member committed a sin not already on the list prohibited by Parliament. Such a pastorally inefficient solution was bound to

42   chad van dixhoorn evoke further protest. After one particularly negative exchange in which the assembly insisted that it would not comply with Parliament’s proposed legislation, furious Commons members attempted to intimidate the gathering with harangues about what the House had done to rebellious clergy in other centuries and by demanding that members indicate with their signatures where they stood on each matter that divided the Parliament and the assembly. Additionally, the Commons printed for public consumption a mocking list of queries on church government, framing each question so as to imply that the matter was too difficult for the assembly to answer. All but a few Erastian-minded members joined the assembly majority in arguing, in sermons, pamphlets, and on the floor of the assembly, that the church had a right to exercise its own discipline, unfettered by the civil magistrate. Nonetheless, despite their nearly unanimous agreement, the assembly chose not to answer the queries, no doubt assuming that their answers would never see the light of day. The more humbling task for the assembly was to make peace with yet another unhappy component of what Scottish commissioner Robert Baillie would famously term a “lame Erastian presbytery”22—because having won the debate over the Lord’s Supper, the House of Commons turned to the assembly’s earlier work on ecclesiology and chose to heavily revise the assembly’s Directory for Church Government. It denuded the directory of its doctrinal dress, leaving a naked piece of legislation from Westminster Palace ordering a Presbyterian government for the national church and providing no explanation from Westminster Abbey of why it was more biblical than the form of governance it was replacing. This left it unclear whether Presbyterianism was a biblical idea or a practical one. Most divines thought it was both; a small majority in Parliament could only accept the latter idea. While it was working on its texts of church polity, the assembly was also considering a text of theology. Because of ongoing and unresolved debates in 1645 and 1646 between the assembly and Parliament over the Directory for Church Government, the synod’s most enduring text and even its later catechisms were all subdued in their presbyterial claims. But even that hardly mattered by the 1650s; the assembly’s confession and catechisms were never adopted as England’s legally binding doctrinal texts. What is more, the loosely enforced and half-heartedly implemented Presbyterianizing of the church in the late 1640s became entirely optional in England under Oliver Cromwell’s rule in the 1650s. Only when General George Monck returned from Scotland in 1659 in a bloodless coup did nationalized Presbyterianism in England experience a brief revival. If the Westminster Assembly defined Presbyterianism for England, it, at most, refined Presbyterianism for Scotland. With the kirk’s long history of Presbyterian practice and sturdy resistance to non-Presbyterian forms of government, the Westminster Assembly could at most help to solidify the biblical basis for a commitment already held by most Scottish ministers. Famously, the polity that became voluntary in England had remained mandatory in Scotland. Although in 1638 the kirk affirmed its commitment to the Second Helvetic Confession, by 1647 the General Assembly was ready to adopt as its own confession the thirty-three-chapter statement of faith drafted by the Westminster

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   43 Assembly, which had included the kirk’s own commission of ministers. The kirk added qualifying statements to the Confession just as it did when it adopted the assembly’s Directory for Worship. (For example, parts of Chapter 31 of the Confession were seen to be too open to Erastian readings.23) But during the 1650s, Presbyterianism, as defined by the assembly, remained the dominant form of Protestantism in a predominantly Protestant country. When Presbyterianism north of the Tweed eventually faltered in the late 1640s and into the 1650s, it was not due to the kirk’s inability to sort out doctrinal differences but to the leadership’s inability to determine an effective policy—whether civil, ecclesiastical, or military—toward those with weaker commitments to Presbyterianism. It was not equally obvious to every Scottish pastor or parishioner whether the best program of action was to complete a thorough reform of the church quickly or to take as many people along the reformation path as possible, even if the journey would be longer and slower as a result. Presbyterians became bitterly divided, making Oliver Cromwell’s ­conquering of Scotland and imposition of military rule only easier to effect. He also took advantage of the Presbyterians political weakness and required that Protestant sects be tolerated in Scotland. A small number of Congregationalist and Baptist churches were planted, some of them by Englishmen; an even smaller number of these thrived for the duration of the decade. Although the history of the Westminster Assembly is often narrated as though it were purely a British event, throughout the 1640s English and Scottish Presbyterians saw their recoveries and reformations as efforts to keep (or get) in step with their friends on the continent. Scottish commissioner Alexander Henderson noted that the eyes of the whole world were upon them. But this was hardly a complaint. The divines wanted their work to be noticed. Robert Baillie surreptitiously sought letters from Dutch ministers that were intended to impact the assembly’s deliberations. The assembly expressed its gratitude upon receiving from a Dutch delegation a book on ecclesiology dedicated to their gathering.24 And together the assembly and the Scottish commissioners sent a circular to all European churches in the Netherlands, France, Germany, Sweden, Poland, and elsewhere in Switzerland. Many of these churches, in turn, coordinated their responses to the assembly. Unfortunately, the letter to the French church proved to be problematic and was a dark portent of what was to come. In the 1640s, Presbyterianism was still vigorous in France, and Presbyterians on both sides of the channel were clearly kindred spirits. Both had experienced extensive persecution. Both were being forced to define themselves against Congregationalism, and in 1645 the French church expressed its concern about the “poison” of independency seeping into its maritime churches.25 Nonetheless, in the 1640s the Protestant church in France was in the more precarious situation politically. In fact, it was no longer permitted to reply to the correspondence of other churches, and the French synod was frustrated that the assembly had not understood this. Indeed, the handwriting was on the wall for Presbyterianism across Europe. The year 1659 saw the twenty-ninth and last legal synod sanctioned by the King of France. Less

44   chad van dixhoorn than 40 percent of the Dutch population was even nominally Protestant by mid-century. Reformed churches in Poland and Lithuania were in steep decline.26 And a new Lord Protector in London, a weak second act to his father’s strong rule, would pave way for the return of a radically anti-Presbyterian government to England and Scotland.

The Struggle to Survive (1660–1680s) The restoration of Charles II to the throne in England in 1660, guided in part by prominent Presbyterians, was initially considered by the faithful to be a harbinger of good things. What transpired over the next few years, however, proved to be a crushing disappointment. As the king returned to his throne, bishops returned to their cathedrals and to their seats in the House of Lords. It was immediately evident that the most vindictive among them would also be the most vocal. The prelates would not tolerate any nonconformity from Presbyterians, Congregationalists, or others. They also did their best to maximize the divisions among the Presbyterians, which was not a difficult feat because restoration Puritans had varying degrees of willingness to revert to an episcopalian church order. Royal declarations in favor of Presbyterians and Catholics did little good. Civil war had weakened the monarchy, and gone were the days when an English monarch could direct his Parliament or his church; Charles II became an ex officio figure in the upper management of both institutions instead of the heavy-handed chief executive officer his father had been. All bishops and most politicians had decided that the events of the past two decades had done more harm than good, and that heady theories about presbyteries and monarchies were both to blame. Frustration and ejection were the fruit of the four draconian acts of the so-called Clarendon Code that the restoration Parliament initiated and that Charles had no choice but to sign into law. Presbyterian ordination was declared invalid. All ministers who refused episcopal (re-)ordination were deprived of their livings, forbidden even to teach in schools, and forced to move away from any places where they had ever ministered. Two thousand ministers, including most of the surviving members of the Westminster Assembly, refused to comply. On one day, a fifth of the church’s ministers said farewell to their congregations. In future generations, those who refused to comply with episcopacy would be forbidden—for two centuries as it turns out—from attending Oxbridge colleges and from benefiting from the institutions and resources connected to the Church of England. Although some of the older ministers held out hope for a change, it was clear to most of the younger ones that this policy was a tremendous blow to national English Presbyterianism. From this point forward, “Anglicanism” would be truly and irrevocably synonymous with Episcopalianism; the Church of England would be tethered to a particular polity, and meaningful dissent would be impossible. In the next three decades, the crown occasionally offered “toleration” to English Presbyterians and others in attempts to make space for Roman Catholics to worship legally. But most Presbyterians refused these olive branches. Older Presbyterians wanted

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   45 “comprehension” within the church and not “toleration” outside of it. The latter term assumed that they were dissenters from their beloved church, which they denied. The former term suggested that they were merely nonconformists who refused to obey the current canons of the church’s hierarchy, which better reflected their self-understanding. Additionally, almost all Presbyterians were convinced that any rights granted to sectarians and papists would only further harm Protestantism in England and any other places where similar policies and offers of liberties might obtain. For that reason, Presbyterians vocally opposed offers of toleration even though it brought them continued suffering and marginalization. One of the few potential benefits emerging from these events was the strengthening of international connections within the movement, since some candidates for an underground Presbyterian pastorate now traveled abroad for their ministerial training. If frustration and discrimination characterized the experience to the east and west of the Irish Sea, oppression and persecution characterized the experience to its north. Presbyterians in Scotland had made more progress in reform than they had England or Ireland. All of it was erased by Charles II’s ascension to the throne and the passing of the Rescissory Act in 1661, which declared all legislation passed from 1633 to 1649 null and void. Episcopacy over presbytery was the de facto polity of Scotland once more. A third of the church’s ministers vacated their pulpits, unable to make peace with the new regime. Moreover, Charles II’s response to his Scottish subjects was punitive in a way that it was not for the English, for in England he had resisted the urge to execute the ringleaders who had been behind the revolution of the recent decades. Perhaps his most Machiavellian move was to appoint as governor of Scotland his brother and the future monarch of England and Scotland, James VII and II (r. 1685–1688). First a closet and then an open Roman Catholic, James devoted himself to dividing the dysfunctional Presbyterian moderates and hounding the most devoted of Scottish Presbyterians (who insisted on keeping the solemn covenants made in the late 1630s and early 1640s). The policies of James and the Scottish Privy Council prompted some Presbyterians to compromise with his rule. Others, as in France, offered armed resistance in rural areas. Soon, only this latter group would be labeled “Covenanters,” and James’s policy toward them alternated between military campaigns and offers of toleration. For years, neither sticks nor carrots had any demonstrable effects on the resilient Covenanting movement, save that its advocates grew embittered through decades of harsh repression. But whether they were humiliated morally or militarily, the eventual experience of Scottish Presbyterians under Charles and James was bitter defeat. Indeed, Presbyterians encountered problems everywhere after 1660. Because of the violence and ultimate failure of the English and Scottish revolutions, Presbyterianism gained an unsavory reputation among some foreign leaders, as far away as Hungary. This was only one aspect of an eastern Protestant decline for those caught between Islam and Catholicism, and Presbyterians in other countries monitored events with apprehension and sadness. But the second half of the century marked a steep decline for Presbyterians on either side of Europe.27

46   chad van dixhoorn

Emigration, Revocation, and Revolution (1680s–1700) To help remember the days when Presbyterianism had prospered, stories of earlier Presbyterian thriving began to be published in the 1680s.28 And to deal with the problems of their present discouragements, many Presbyterians gave up on their homelands and went abroad in the final decades of the seventeenth century. The first Presbyterian missionary to North America was Francis Makemie (1658–1708), an Irish minister who had been educated in Scotland because Trinity College Dublin was not open to dissenters. Near the end of Charles II’s reign, Makemie was ordained to the ministry and emigrated to the colonies, where he served as an itinerant evangelist in Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, with a two-year detour to the Barbados. His efforts were a staggering success, leading to the establishment of churches throughout the mid-Atlantic colonies, a functioning presbytery in the Philadelphia area, and even some progress in New York. Nonetheless, while Presbyterians were blossoming in the New World, they were being butchered in the Old. In 1685, James VII and II marked the first year of his reign with summary executions of numerous Scottish Covenanters. The persecution was so fierce and his governance so arbitrary that the James VII’s actions earned him enemies outside the now tiny covenanting fold and a Presbyterian martyrology for the larger movement. In the same year, Louis XIV revoked the Edict of Nantes, which had allowed French Protestants, most of them Presbyterian, to live on the edge of toleration; now they were pushed toward the brink of extinction. Louis XIV’s action led to a mass exit of Huguenots from France. In Switzerland, to where many of them now fled, Louis deliberately instigated unrest by installing Roman Catholic representatives of his court in his diplomatic outposts. Officials ostentatiously exercised their right to celebrate Mass on their own property—while inviting Roman Catholic sympathizers to join them in worship. The policy would have been more disruptive if the cause of Catholicism in Geneva had not been providentially hindered, as the Protestants saw it, from an unexpected quarter: the bishop who claimed jurisdiction over the city and its environs was so corrupt that even members of his own communion refused to advance his cause. The effects on Geneva of Louis’s aggressive policy included the intimidation of politicians in the Small Council and a huge societal burden in form of the refugees fleeing hostile France. The Presbyterian community worldwide responded with immense gratitude for the generosity of the Genevans, who opened their city, their purses, and even their homes to them. The urgent call of Genevan pastors to take care of refugees from France and the Italian Piedmont was praised internationally; ironically, the efforts of these good Samaritans obscured a marked doctrinal decline among Genevan ministers, except for the Reformed stalwart, Francis Turretin (who died in 1687) and his dwindling cohort of supporters. Indeed, Andrew Le Mercier’s 1732 history of the Genevan church, published for an American audience, merely outlined the Genevan theological disputes; but it reprinted in full a letter sent from France to Geneva highlighting the need for a “spirit of mildness, moderation, and forbearance toward those who dissented from” Turretin “and the old

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   47 received Doctrine” in unessential points. Le Mercier’s real interest lay in the city’s efforts to reach accommodation with Lutherans and to extend a ministry of mercy to all needy Protestants within Geneva’s reach.29 And yet all was not darkness for Presbyterians in the last decades of the seventeenth century. In the Netherlands, William of Orange allowed Presbyterians to thrive with minimal interference. And in his (and his English wife Mary’s) astonishing coup to take the thrones of England and Scotland—the Glorious Revolution of 1688—conditions for Presbyterians on the Atlantic archipelago improved markedly. Because William saw episcopacy as too closely tethered to the now-ousted James VII and II, he permitted or established moderate Presbyterianism in his new realms. In England, Presbyterianism was tolerated by law. In Scotland, royally restored Presbyterianism vigorously reaffirmed its grass-roots polity. For example, in 1697 the Barrier Act required that legislation proposed by General Assembly be approved by the majority of presbyteries (although only the General Assembly could still create new legislation). Patronage, however, remained a problem. After a brief victory for Scottish Presbyterian congregations, the right to elect pastors reverted to patrons in 1712 because of a ruling by the English House of Lords, which was possible only because of the union of England and Scotland in 1707. The model of Presbyterianism lived out in these national churches and defended at the Westminster Assembly proved significant for later Presbyterians. Extensive experience in different contexts and the development of an apologetic for Presbyterian polity against the assertions of Episcopalians, Erastians, and varieties of Congregationalism helped crystalize Presbyterians’ thinking on a wide array of theoretical and practical issues. And though the seventeenth century ended with Presbyterianism extinguished in France and central Europe, it remained dominant in the Dutch and Scottish state churches, and legal in England and North America. For English-speaking Presbyterianism, however, the decades between the triumph of the Westminster Assembly and the freedoms granted through the Glorious Revolution of 1688 eroded much ground that could have been retained or gained by a more successful institutionalization of the movement. For example, by the time of the famous Marrow controversy in Scotland in the earliest decades of the eighteenth century, key members of the Westminster Assembly were unknown to Scottish ministers, and some of the gathering’s most signal emphases were unfamiliar. Thus, the Presbyterian story of the next hundred years would be that of recovery and retrenchment, and expansion was chiefly restricted to the colonies that became Canada and the United States. The full recovery of Presbyterian theory and practice, and an extension of Presbyterian churches to new lands, would not occur until the age of missions in the nineteenth century.

Notes 1. See Thomas Gataker, A Discours Apologetical (London, 1654), 24–26. 2. See Chad Van Dixhoorn, ed., Minutes and Papers of the Westminster Assembly, 1643 to 1652 (Oxford: Oxford University Press), 2:213–214, 292, 329 (hereafter cited as MPWA); and

48   chad van dixhoorn John Lightfoot, The Whole Works of Rev. John Lightfoot, ed. J. R. Pitman, 13 vols. (London, 1824), 13:193. 3. Andrew Le Mercier, Church History of Geneva, in Five Books (Boston, 1732), 214. 4. John Quick, Synodicon in Gallia Reformata: or the Acts, Decisions, Decrees, and Canons of those Famous National Councils of the Reformed Churches in France, 2 vols. (London, 1692) 1:lviii; see xvi–lviii. 5. La Discipline des Eglises Reformees de France (Paris, 1653). 6. Quick, Synodicon, 1:xxxvi, xxx; for the role of deacons, xxviii. 7. Quick, 1:xxxi, 38–39. 8. Quick, 1:213, 291, 318. 9. Quick, 1:209. 10. Keith  L.  Sprunger, “Paget, John (d. 1638),” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2004). 11. Keith L. Sprunger, Dutch Puritanism: A History of English and Scottish Churches of the Netherlands in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (Leiden: Brill, 1982), 17. 12. See Acta of Handelingen der Nationale Synode Dordrecht 1618–1619, ed. J.  H.  Donner (Leiden, 1883). 13. 1637 letter from Geneva to the French National Synod of Alencon, in Le Mercier, Church History of Geneva, 168. 14. See Anthony Milton, ed., The British Delegation and the Synod of Dort (1618–1619) (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell, 2005), 389. For the text of the Church Order of Dordt (1619), see Richard  R.  De Ridder, ed., The Church Orders of the Sixteenth-Century Reformed Churches of the Netherlands: Together with Their Social, Political, and Ecclesiastical Context (Grand Rapids, MI: Calvin Theological Seminary, 1987), 546–557, trans. from C. Hoijer, Oude Kerkordeningen der Nederlandsche Gemeente, 1563–1638 (Zalt-Bommel, n.d.). 15. See, for example, Acta der provincial en particuliere synoden, gehouden in de noordelijke Nederlanden gedurende de jaren, 1572–1620, 7 vols., ed. J.  Reitsema and S.  D.  van Veen (Groningen, the Netherlands, 1892–1899); and Acta de particuliere synoden van ZuidHolland, 1621–1700, ed. W. P. C. Knuttel (Gravenhage, the Netherlands: Martin Nijhoff, 1908). 16. Polly Ha, “Godly Globalization: Calvinism in Bermuda,” Journal of Ecclesiastical History 66 (2015): 543–561. 17. Graeme Murdock, Calvinism on the Frontier, 1600–1660: International Calvinism and the Reformed Church in Hungary and Transylvania (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 2000), 46–76, 204–208, 254–255. 18. Hunter Powell, The Crisis of British Protestantism (Manchester, UK: Manchester University Press, 2015). 19. See G. Gillespie, “The Notes of Debates and Proceedings of the Assembly of Divines,” in The Works of George Gillespie, 2 vols. (Edinburgh, 1846; Edmonton, AB: Still Waters Revival Books, 1991), 2:57–58; Lightfoot, Whole Works, 13:260–261; MPWA, 3:48–50. 20. For example, “The Answer of the Assembly of Divines to the Reasons of the Dissenting Brethren against the Proposition concerning Ordination,” in The Reasons Presented by the Dissenting Brethren against Certain Propositions concerning Presbyteriall Government (London, 1648), 187–190; MPWA, 5, doc. 134. 21. MPWA, 5:237–243, doc. 88. 22. David Laing, ed., The Letters and Journals of Robert Baillie (Edinburgh, 1841), 2:362. 23. A True Copy of the Whole Printed Acts of the General Assemblies of the Church of Scotland . . . 1638 [to] 1649 (n.p., 1682).

the seventeenth century and the westminster assembly   49 Lightfoot, Whole Works, 13:219. Quick, Synodicon, 2:467. See Hart, Calvinism, 77–94. Murdock, Calvinism on the Frontier, 292–293. See Quick, Synodicon, perhaps following the anonymous True Copy of the Whole Printed Acts of the General. 29. Le Mercier, Church History of Geneva, 174–205. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28.

Bibliography De Ridder, Richard R., ed. The Church Orders of the Sixteenth-Century Reformed Churches of the Netherlands: Together with Their Social, Political, and Ecclesiastical Context. Grand Rapids, MI: Calvin Theological Seminary, 1987. Hart, D. G. Calvinism: A History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013. Laing, David, ed., The Letters and Journals of Robert Baillie, 3 vols. Edinburgh: Robert Ogle, 1841–1842. Lightfoot, John. The Whole Works of Rev. John Lightfoot, ed. J.  R.  Pitman. 13 vols. London, 1822–1825. Milton, Anthony, ed. The British Delegation and the Synod of Dort (1618–1619). Woodbridge, UK: Boydell, 2005. Murdock, Graeme. Calvinism on the Frontier, 1600–1660: International Calvinism and the Reformed Church in Hungary and Transylvania. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 2000. Sprunger, Keith. Dutch Puritanism: A History of English and Scottish Churches of the Netherlands in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries. Leiden: Brill, 1982. Van Dixhoorn, Chad, ed. The Minutes and Papers of the Westminster Assembly, 1643–1652. 5 vols. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2012.

chapter 4

Eighteen th- a n d N i n eteen th- Cen t u ry Pr esby ter i a n ism i n North A m er ica Sean Michael Lucas

Introduction When the first presbytery formed in Philadelphia, in 1706, seven ministers from mid-Atlantic North American colonies banded together to form a connection based on Old World practices. They pledged to examine and license ministers, to hold one another accountable for morals and mission, and to promote the gospel in their respective areas. While their new presbytery was officially unrelated to Scots or ScotsIrish Presbyterianism in the Old World or Puritan Congregationalism in the New, they corresponded with and worked alongside both from their earliest days.1 Eighty years later, the body that formed the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America numbered over 450 congregations. By the end of the nineteenth century, the Presbyterian tradition in the United States counted over 1.75 million members in its various denominational forms and connections. And that does not take into account the developing Presbyterian movement in Canada, which would merge its disparate parts in 1875 to form the Presbyterian Church in Canada.2 Trying to account for this growth is not as simple as pointing to demographics. After all, several significant colonial Protestant denominations did not maintain their momentum to the end of the nineteenth century (Congregationalists and Quakers, for example). Other denominations that did not exist or were relatively small and inconsequential when the United States formed in 1788 dominated the religious landscape a hundred years later (most notably Methodists, Baptists, and Disciples of Christ). How did Presbyterians maintain a relatively healthy trajectory of growth, especially in an era when the “democratization of American Christianity” was in full flower?3

52   sean michael lucas One contributing factor was the robust theological tradition which Presbyterianism in its various branches represented. From its earliest days in the New World, Presbyterians wrote about, discussed, argued over, and critiqued theological ideas. Although this process of theological development—guided by the Westminster Standards—sometimes led to division, it also evidenced a commitment to core beliefs that provided a clear identity, which marked out Presbyterianism in the religious market place and enabled it to exert considerable influence on American culture.4 What some historians have missed, however, is how these theological debates were shaped by the process of Americanization itself. As Old World debates were re-enacted in the New World, and as Presbyterians worked their way through divisions to establish a mainstream denominational structure, there was not a single “American tradition,” but rather competing ones. These traditions would have different labels—Old Side/New Side, Old School/New School, North/South—but central to those debates was how Presbyterian theology in the American context should be done. In fact, theology would often stand in for deeper, unexpressed loyalties to or questions about the American creed.5 Not all Presbyterians were part of this mainstream conversation about what it means to be Presbyterian in America. Various voices ring out throughout the story as counterpoints to the mainstream: black Presbyterians, who repeatedly sought to awaken their white brothers and sisters to the profound failure of Christian ethics in church and society; smaller Presbyterian bodies, such as the Reformed Presbyterians and Associate Presbyterians, who continued to warn against confusing Christ with country; and Canadian Presbyterians who held on to Old World patterns even as they tamed the frontier. These “outsiders” serve to highlight the dangers American Presbyterianism continually faced to be too identified with the United States as home to God’s new chosen people or the “new order of the ages.” Paying attention to these issues will help to explain how Presbyterianism was able to grow and thrive into the twentieth century. But they will also raise the challenging question of how Presbyterianism operated within the North American cultural system. Especially in the United States, Presbyterians’ general success might be attributable to the fact that, to reverse historian Sidney Mead’s famous phrase, they were a church with the soul of a nation. That is to say, Presbyterians, perhaps more than any other tradition, came to represent mainline Protestantism by embodying American cultural mores. Though this helps account for Presbyterianism’s apparent success by the end of the nineteenth century, it also set the stage for its more challenging days in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.6

Presbyterianism in the Wilderness Prior to the establishment of Philadelphia Presbytery, in 1706, several Presbyterian ministers worked together to form judicatories in the British colonies. These ministers came from Old World presbyteries, sometimes sent at the request of colonial

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   53 g­ overnors. One such request came from Colonel William Stevens, a member of Lord Baltimore’s Council overseeing Maryland; in 1680, he petitioned the Presbytery of Laggan, in Northern Ireland, to send a Presbyterian minister to serve a plantation populated by Presbyterians named Rehoboth. The clerk of the presbytery, William Traill, served that area for a time, but around 1683 the presbytery sent Francis Makemie to assist these Presbyterians.7 Makemie was one of several Ulster Scots ministers who came to the New World in the late 1600s. Two others, Thomas Wilson and Samuel Davis, organized the Manokin and Snow Hill congregations on the eastern shore of Maryland. Makemie encouraged the development of these Presbyterian churches, along with others on the eastern seaboard and in Barbados. He preached for Philadelphia Presbyterians in 1692, six years before Jedidiah Andrews established a church in the city; he later sailed to England and Scotland at least twice to seek Presbyterian ministers for the colonies. He also wrote tracts defending Presbyterian doctrine against attack and appealing to Anglican leaders to tolerate Presbyterianism and other dissenters. After the first American presbytery was established, he traveled to New England, in 1707, seeking finances and personnel to support church planting in the mid-Atlantic area through his friend, Cotton Mather.8 Makemie was instrumental in developing Presbyterianism in the wilderness, but others joined him in this endeavor. Two men came with him from his recruiting trips to the Old World: John Hampton and George McNish, graduates from Glasgow and sent by the Presbytery of Laggan to assist in the colonies. Three came from New England, recruited by Boston pastors Cotton Mather and Benjamin Colman: John Wilson, Jedidiah Andrews, and Nathaniel Taylor. Samuel Davis was already serving the Snow Hill congregation. All these ministers had connections to Makemie, either through his recruitment, Scotch-Irish ties, or the friendship of others. It was not surprising, then, that when Makemie proposed formalizing their connection in a presbytery that these men agreed to join him.9 What did the ministers think they were doing when they formed the Philadelphia Presbytery in 1706? Because the minutes of the first meeting are missing, it is hard to know. The only clear statement of intent came from Makemie, the first moderator of the presbytery, in a letter to Benjamin Colman: “Our design is to meet yearly, and oftener, if necessary, to consult the most proper measures, for advancing religion, and propagating Christianity in our various stations, and to maintain such a correspondence as may conduce to the improvement of our ministerial ability by prescribing texts to be preached on by two of our number at every meeting, which performance is subjected to the censure of our brethren.” However, from the subsequent minutes of the presbytery, they clearly had larger intentions.10 In fact, as historian Jon Butler notes, not only did these Presbyterians desire to advance the Gospel and improve their own ability, they also intended to maintain ministerial order and to oversee and discipline congregations. This exercise of ecclesiastical power was made possible by including lay elders in the presbytery’s decision-making process. Having congregational representatives allowed the presbytery to exercise ­oversight over those congregations, albeit without guidance by a written constitution.

54   sean michael lucas The early minutes of the presbytery bear out Butler’s contention—the presbytery ­intervened and refused a congregation’s choice of a minister; urged a church that had split not to engage in wrangling but to reunite; disciplined ministers for moral failings; and recruited and oversaw ministerial candidates through ordination and beyond.11 In this regard, both the ad hoc development of the Philadelphia Presbytery and the exercise of power and order mirrored the Old World presbytery from which Makemie, Davis, McNish, and Hampton came. Far from being a structured denomination, Ulster Presbyterianism was itself developing when these men were ordained. As historian Patrick Griffin observes, the first Ulster presbytery was not formed until 1642, some thirty-five years after the establishment of Ulster plantation in Northern Ireland. The presbytery sought to “coordinate congregational affairs, adjudicate disputes, ensure that ministers fulfilled their responsibilities, and admonish congregations to pay ministerial stipends.” Additional presbyteries were soon formed, including the Presbytery of Laggan, which ordained Makemie and Davis. In 1690, as a result of continued expansion and growth, fueled by Scots migration to Ulster, the Synod of Ulster consisted of nine presbyteries and 120 congregations.12 North America followed the same pattern. Philadelphia Presbytery was created both to help pastors work more effectively and to oversee and discipline ministers and congregations. Many new churches were started and ministers admitted, so that the judicatory could no longer provide proper supervision. As a result, in 1716, the Synod of Philadelphia was formed with three presbyteries—Philadelphia, Long Island, and New Castle. Thus the “American tradition” of Presbyterianism was built on the prior pattern of Ulster Presbyterianism. When the Great Migration from Scotland and Ireland began a few years later, Presbyterians were prepared to welcome these Scots and Scots Irish into their growing denomination.

Old World, New World As a developing transatlantic denomination, Presbyterians sought to work out their Old World faith in the midst of the New World. As a result, issues and emphases, especially from Northern Ireland, found their way to colonial America as these nascent Presbyterians devised their own ways of doing things. Most important was the need for clearer standards in doctrine, polity, and education—all of which had recently been established in the Old World places from which these Presbyterians had come. Division would soon come between those who looked to the Old World for precedents and those on who sought to craft new expressions to fit the colonial context in which they found themselves. In 1690, the Synod of Ulster in Northern Ireland declared its loyalty to the doctrines found in the Westminster Confession of Faith, the doctrinal standard of Scots Presbyterianism. Eight years later, they recommended that ministerial candidates be required to subscribe to that doctrinal standard. The Church of Scotland required

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   55 s­ ubscription to the Westminster Confession in 1690; six years later, that church’s highest court required that ministers teach, preach, or write only in conformity with the doctrinal standard. Despite these precedents, a few years later, questions over doctrinal subscription would arise in the New World.13 The attempt to formalize doctrine and polity arose from a moral failing. In 1720, a young Scots-Irish minister, Robert Cross, was accused of fornication. The matter came before the Synod of Philadelphia; Cross answered the charge “with great seriousness, humility, and signs of true repentance.” The synod was moved by Cross’s reply, calling it “universally satisfactory.” It acted to remove him from his pulpit in New Castle for four Sundays, provided pulpit supply for the church during that time, and then left the way open for Cross to return to his ministry, should his congregation so desire.14 Not everyone, however, was pleased with the synod’s action. George Gillespie protested the synod’s decision. The following year, Gillespie moved that the synod’s action regarding Cross be either “altered or annulled.” He also apparently wrote a paper objecting to the synod’s procedure in the matter. In both instances, the synod voted against Gillespie. However, the synod did agree to establish a process to improve “the matters of our government and discipline.”15 Some ministers were concerned that this would lead to a more formalized approach to polity and doctrine. Jonathan Dickinson, minister of the Presbyterian church in Elizabeth, New Jersey, and moderator of the 1722 synod meeting, protested creating “any rules for doctrine and worship, or discipline that go beyond those provided in Scripture.” The immediate issue was the development of rules for polity—government and discipline—however, Dickinson broadened the discussion to include doctrine and worship as well. With an eye to arguments over subscription among Ulster Scots in the Old World, as well as doctrinal division among them in the New World, especially in New York City, Dickinson staked out his place against those who believed that written rules and subscription to a doctrinal statement would ensure the peace and purity of the church.16 The tension between those who sought more formal processes and those who affirmed liberty of conscience continued for several years. New Castle Presbytery, dominated by Scots and Scots-Irish ministers and so more connected to the controversies in the Old World, began to require subscription to the Westminster Confession of Faith in 1724. Three years later, John Thomson from New Castle Presbytery asked the synod to officially adopt the Westminster Confession and require ministers to subscribe to it. The 1727 meeting of synod referred the matter to the presbyteries and the following year postponed discussing the matter until 1729.17 In the midst of these tensions, Dickinson likely authored the compromise at the 1729 meeting of synod that paralleled the Old World attempt to preserve peace, the 1720 Irish Pacific Act, while at the same time avoiding its most significant error. When the Thomson overture went to committee for a recommendation, Dickinson chaired the committee and authored the Adopting Act that declared the synod’s “agreement in and approbation of the Confession of Faith . . . as being all the essential and necessary Articles, good forms of sound words and systems of Christian doctrine.” The Dickinson

56   sean michael lucas committee also carved out a place for liberty of conscience, noting that if any minister should “have any scruple with respect to any article or articles of said confession or ­catechisms, he shall at the time of his making said declaration declare his sentiments.” It would then be up to the presbytery or synod to judge whether “his scruple or mistake” was “only about articles not essential or necessary in doctrine, worship, or government.” Dickinson modeled his committee report upon the Irish Pacific Act, agreeing that the Standards contained essential and necessary articles to which a minister should conform unless he had a conscientious objection. However, unlike in Ireland, the entire presbytery subscribed to the Standards and claimed it for its own; there would be no one who failed to subscribe and was expelled as happened in Ulster in 1726.18 Peace and unity, however, did not come to the church immediately. Over the next six years, there were challenges to the meaning of confessional subscription, both what it meant for ordination candidates, such as David Evans in 1730, and for already ordained ministers, such as Samuel Hemphill in 1735. Nevertheless, the American Presbyterian church would have likely avoided Old World division had it not been for an English evangelist who stirred up Scots-Irish piety in the colonies.19

Growing into a National Church When George Whitefield arrived in America for the first time, in 1737, he was an unknown Anglican minister who had been urged to come as a missionary by his friend John Wesley. When he returned two years later, he was a transatlantic celebrity, who had orchestrated a spiritual renewal that historians still call “the Great Awakening.” The revivals of Whitefield, deemed by one historian “America’s spiritual founding father,” impacted every colonial denomination; but some factors made his ministry especially significant for Presbyterians.20 One factor was the Scots-Irish piety that predominated in so many congregations. As historian Marilyn Westerkamp demonstrates, Scots-Irish immigrants brought a tradition of revivalist piety with them to the new world. Trained in expectations of intense spiritual renewal leading to conversion, these Presbyterians came to the American colonies desiring similar types of renewal. The rituals of revival, enacted not just by Whitefield, but also by Presbyterian pastors such as Gilbert Tennent, comforted many immigrants, even as they challenged ministerial authority. The ministers and lay people who supported the Great Awakening believed that ministerial authority rested on their piety, not their office or orthodoxy.21 Whitefield’s ministry exposed the fault lines among Presbyterians, creating “sides” over a range of issues. The New Side, led particularly by Tennent and his family, supported the Awakening, embraced an itinerant style of ministry, created colonial theological education, and insisted that conversion and holiness were the principal sources of ministerial authority. The Old Side generally opposed the revival, insisted on parish boundaries, demanded academic credentials from either England or America, and held

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   57 that orthodoxy and office were the sources of authority. The conflict divided Philadelphia Synod in 1741; the New Side men left to form their own presbytery and, eventually, synod. This division was related to what it meant to be Presbyterian in America, how old forms of piety were translated in a new context. Simply put, the New Side was more willing than the Old to embrace Americanization.22 Over the seventeen years that the two sides worked independently of the other, each advanced Presbyterianism. Most significant in this regard was the start of the College of New Jersey, in 1746. Founded by New Side Presbyterians to train ministers, the school gained its footing through its sixth president, John Witherspoon, who served from 1768 until 1794. Although he arrived after the reunion of the two Presbyterian sides, Witherspoon shaped the school into a significant force by merging Calvinist orthodoxy, republican politics, and realist philosophy. But even before Witherspoon’s arrival, the influence of the college was evident. It enabled the New Side ministers to increase in number from twenty-two in 1741 to seventy-three by 1758.23 During the Seven Years’ War (1754–1763), Presbyterians began to consider whether they were better off together than apart. Gilbert Tennent, in particular, regretted the 1741 division and made the first moves toward reunion. Beginning in 1749, Tennent began to offer proposals for healing the breach between the two sides, culminating in his book Irenicum Ecclesiasticum, or a Humble Impartial Essay upon the Peace of Jerusalem. By 1755, Old Side Presbyterians were willing to discuss a settlement. When it was effected, in 1758, the terms of reunion declared that “all former differences and disputes are laid aside and buried”; a reunited church would be ready for an emerging nation.24 As the American colonies moved toward independence, the reunited Synod of New York and Philadelphia continued its rapid growth. One reason for this growth was its merger of Calvinist Christianity and republican liberty, which caused Presbyterians to come to the forefront during the Revolutionary period. The College of New Jersey lent great support to the Revolutionary cause, prompting the patriots’ enemies to brand it a “seminary of sedition.” Of the 355 students who trained at Princeton between 1769 and 1783, only five were open Loyalists, while the list of those who supported the Revolution “was as nearly as long as the roll of graduates.” Consequently, these young Presbyterians and other graduates followed their president John Witherspoon, who made significant contributions to the colonists’ cause, serving in the Continental Congress, signing the Declaration of Independence, and working in the New Jersey state legislature.25 Both sides were comfortable in the newly minted United States. As the Constitutional Convention met to frame the document that would lead the new nation forward, representatives from the four Presbyterian synods met in Philadelphia in 1789 to form the first General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America. Once again, Old World models served to guide New World development: the plan for the new assembly was modeled on the Church of Scotland, with a strong central authority and an annual meeting made up of delegated members. But Presbyterians wanted to create a strong institution to give them more importance in the republic than other denominations. To provide for “the public good, and for the promotion of religion,” a

58   sean michael lucas unified Presbyterian church was vital. Always with an eye to cultural custodianship, Presbyterians were ready to help shape the new nation.26

Challenges: Theology, Culture, and Slavery As a Presbyterian educator and politician, John Witherspoon had a tremendous influence. As historian Mark Noll persuasively argues, he merged Calvinist orthodoxy with classical republicanism and common-sense epistemology to produce an American theology. This was not unique to Presbyterians; however, they represented it best in their colleges and theological seminaries, some of which they shared with their Congregationalist partners in the first four decades of the 1800s. And yet, even this general theological agreement would be challenged from within by the development of these seminaries. Each seminary developed its own “tribal” or clan identity; some were more loyal to this American theology than others; still others looked to European trends to shape their commitments. In other words, the ethnic identities that created division in the colonial period and were subsumed in the formation of the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America would reemerge in a reshaped form in the various seminaries established in the early nineteenth century.27 Initially, it was not obvious that division was again in Presbyterians’ future. Shortly after the first General Assembly, Presbyterians and Congregationalists came together in “the Plan of Union,” in 1801. Meant as a mechanism for evangelization in the newly opened “Old Northwest” (what would become the states Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, and Illinois), the Plan of Union essentially allowed Congregationalist churches to call Presbyterian ministers and have rights in a given presbytery and Presbyterian churches to call Congregationalist ministers with similar privileges in larger judicatories. Evangelizing the new American frontier was apparently more important than theological concerns about polity.28 Likewise, the new General Assembly reflected the early Republic’s commitment to liberty by repeatedly calling for the eradication of slavery. Indeed, two years prior to the formation of the General Assembly, the Synod of New York and Philadelphia approved “the general principles in favor of universal liberty, that prevail in America, and the interest in which many of the states have taken in promoting the abolition of slavery.” In 1795, the General Assembly referred to that 1787 action in response to an overture from Transylvania Presbytery in Kentucky. The Synod of Virginia declared in 1800 that “it was wrong” “to reduce so many helpless Africans to their present state of thralldom”; and “that it is a duty to adopt proper measures for their emancipation” was presumably “universally conceded.” Two years later, the Synod of North Carolina urged its members to work for abolition. Presbyterians appeared united on extending liberty to enslaved blacks.29

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   59 However, by the 1820s and 1830s, the ground had shifted dramatically, and the Presbyterian church split in 1837 into rival denominations. The Plan of Union and abolitionism played a role in the schism, but the emergence of theological seminaries also fueled the differences between the two groups. To counteract Harvard College’s appointment of the Unitarian Henry Ware to the Hollis Chair of Divinity, orthodox Congregationalists opened the nation’s first seminary, Andover, in Boston in 1808. Influenced by the theological tradition emerging from Jonathan Edwards, often called “the New Divinity,” Andover trained generations of New England Congregationalist ministers.30 That, perhaps, would not have affected Presbyterians had it not been for the Plan of Union. However, as Andover men became pastors in Presbyterian churches planted in the Old Northwest, they began to advocate theological positions that seemed in opposition to a stricter understanding of the Westminster Standards—especially, a denial that Adam’s sin was imputed to humanity, a commitment to faith preceding and effecting regeneration, and an emphasis upon the will in salvation. As ministers taught these positions, a recognizable faction developed in the life of the church called the New School.31 Andover ministers were joined in the New School by men trained at the Yale College and Divinity School (which was established in 1822). Timothy Dwight, a grandson of Jonathan Edwards, and his protégé Nathaniel  William  Taylor, emphasized positions similar to those of their Andover brothers, but they did so more distinctively. Taylor insisted that individuals were born innocent and became sinners through their sinning; that people had natural ability to repent, which remained intact despite their sin; and that men and women could turn to God and so affect regeneration. This “New Haven” theology also found a place in the Presbyterian church through the New School.32 New School ministers not only occupied a particular theological position, they also advocated a particular approach to cultural issues in America. Instrumental in promoting a program of revival and reform, New School Presbyterians cooperated with Congregationalists to form numerous organizations that made up the Evangelical United Front, all of which had “American” in the title: the American Tract Society, American Bible Society, American Home Missionary Society, American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, American Colonization Society, and American Anti-Slavery Society. Striving to create a “Calvinist social order” and fueled by key theological positions favorable to revival and reform, the New School grew rapidly, especially in the northern and Midwestern states.33 Competing with the New School and their theological seminaries Andover and Yale was the group that came to be known as the “Old School” and had its intellectual base at Princeton Seminary, founded in 1812. While the Old School would include such southerners as James Henley Thornwell and such border state leaders as R. J. Breckinridge, the faculty members at Princeton—Archibald Alexander, Samuel Miller, and Charles Hodge—provided the most important theological arguments against the developing New School group. They sought to demonstrate that Adam’s sin was imputed to human beings prior to their committing actual sin; that, as a result, human beings do not have the ability to repent without the prior regenerating work of the Holy Spirit; and that faith

60   sean michael lucas was the result of regeneration, not the other way around. The Old School also questioned whether the church could or should work to transform the social order, desiring instead to focus on evangelism and Christian nurture.34 By 1837, the issues between the two “schools” came to a head. In the end, some ­questionable parliamentary maneuvering—two acts that came to be known as the “Abrogating Acts,” which ended the Plan of Union, and the Disowning Act, which made that abrogation retroactive to 1801, eliminating sixty thousand church members as Presbyterians—led to a division in the denomination. Yet even with the Old School and New School in separate Presbyterian communions, the deeper divisions and challenges remained.35 These challenges continued because both bodies struggled with their relationship to the larger American culture, especially on the issue of slavery. By the 1830s, many Presbyterians had retreated from their earlier advocacy of manumission. However, the New School had made slavery a centerpiece of their reform efforts and was seeking to end slavery either through African colonization or emancipation. Such advocacy by parachurch organizations made many in the Old School extremely uncomfortable, especially southerners. Slavery was thoroughly debated at the 1835 and 1836 General Assemblies. The Old School argued that slavery was a political issue, one that the doctrinal standards did not address. The New School held that slaveholding was a sin and that slaveholders, therefore, should be barred from the Lord’s table. These debates over slavery provided the larger context in which the division of 1837 occurred.36 In 1845, the Old School reaffirmed its position that slavery was not a proper topic for the denomination to consider. Rather, “the church of Christ is a spiritual body, whose jurisdiction extends only to the religious faith, and moral conduct of her members.” Because Christ and his disciples “did not make the holding of slaves a bar to communion, we, as a court of the church, have no authority to do so.” Further, to declare slaveholding a sin would “separate the northern from the southern portion of the Church” and produce “a ruinous and unnecessary schism between brethren who maintain a common faith.” This statement enabled Old Schoolers to avoid further conversation over slavery until the Civil War. New Schoolers did not fare much better on slavery. After the division in 1837, they concentrated on forming structures to sustain the life of their new church. Only in 1857 did they declare slaveholding to be sinful and bar slaveholders from communion. The larger cultural pressures of antebellum America’s debate over slavery impacted the Presbyterian church in significant ways, shaping how it reacted to the impending Civil War.37

Counterpoints: Blacks, Outsiders, Canadians Throughout the same period in which the New School and Old School developed as rival factions, other Presbyterians served as counterpoints to this mainstream story. Whether they were African Americans, members of smaller Scots-orientated groups, or

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   61 Canadians, these Presbyterian voices raised significant questions or challenges about what it meant to be Presbyterian in North America. These outsiders remind us that life in the New World affected Presbyterians in different ways and that sometimes separateness provided a prophetic vantage point from which to view cultural leadership or captivity. Black Presbyterians challenged the mainstream Presbyterian account of cultural custodianship as they pressed their white brothers to adhere more faithfully to their professed theological and ethical commitments. Although African Americans attended colonial Presbyterian churches, the first black Presbyterian church was formed in 1807 in Philadelphia. Funded and overseen by the Presbyterian Evangelical Society, led by Archibald Alexander, the church’s founder was John Gloucester, a Tennessee slave belonging to a Presbyterian missionary. Alexander secured Gloucester’s freedom for this service; however, the black minister had to raise further funds to secure his family’s freedom. Eventually, three of John’s sons entered the Presbyterian ministry: Jeremiah Gloucester started Second Church in Philadelphia, in 1824; James organized Siloam Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn in 1847; and Stephen was an evangelist who also served Lombard Street Central Church in Philadelphia.38 Because of its large population of free blacks, Philadelphia was a center for black Presbyterianism, but New York City came to rival it. Samuel Cornish was the key leader in New York, starting the city’s first two African American Presbyterian congregations. The first, known as Shiloh Presbyterian Church, became a stop on the underground railroad; the other was eventually called Emmanuel Church. Cornish not only started these two churches, but he also began the first black newspaper, Freedom’s Journal, in 1827. Cornish was followed at his first church by Theodore Wright, the first black graduate from Princeton Seminary, and at his second church, by Henry Highland Garnet, a powerful black advocate for protest against white oppression.39 What made black Presbyterianism vital was that these African American leaders remained within the structures of the white church. Historian David Swift has argued that “the earliest black Presbyterian and Congregational ministers were more likely to be systematic workers for radical social reform than were black clergy of the other denominations.” When their white counterparts advocated the colonization plan, Cornish boldly attacked it, risking the wrath of prominent Presbyterians to witness to their common humanity and redemption and to challenge the white prejudice behind the scheme. When New School Presbyterians delayed following through on abolition, black Presbyterians criticized their racism. In doing so, these Presbyterian leaders raised significant questions about how American culture shaped biblical faith.40 Meanwhile, some Presbyterians in America continued to emphasize their ethnic separateness and loyalty to Old World norms. Scots Covenanters who migrated to the colonies in the mid-eighteenth century, did not participate in the Synod of Philadelphia or New York, but instead created their own structures. These Scots solicited assistance from the Reformed Presbytery in Scotland, and in 1752, they sent the Scots Covenanter minister John Cuthbertson to preach. Based largely in Pennsylvania, Cuthbertson traveled over 2,500 miles, serving immigrants who did not want to participate in the developing colonial Presbyterian church. In 1774, two more ministers arrived from Scotland, and together with Cuthbertson, formed the Reformed Presbytery.41

62   sean michael lucas As a result of the American Revolution, the Reformed Presbytery ministers decided to abandon the deep Covenanter suspicion of civil government and support the emerging federal government. They led a merger with another small Scots body, the Associate Presbyterians, to form the Associate Reformed Church, in 1782. These Associate Presbyterians had their roots in the Associate Presbytery in Scotland, known as Seceders because they left the Church of Scotland to support Ebenezer Erskine and his revivalism. They willingly joined with the Reformed Presbyterians to form a new body that continued to look across the Atlantic for inspiration even as it sought to make its way in America. Some Reformed Presbyterians, however, maintained the Covenanter antipathy against civil magistrates who did not acknowledge Jesus Christ as King over the state. In 1798, the Reformed Presbytery was re-formed, and a few years later it adopted a “testimony” that instructed followers not to pledge allegiance to a nation that was not significantly “Christian” in its constitution. This testimony itself created controversy among the Reformed Presbyterians, which led to a split in 1833 between the “General Synod” and the “Covenanter Synod.” The Covenanter antipathy to government also led it to oppose slavery. In fact, American slavery demonstrated the unrighteousness of the newly formed federal government and justified their wariness about it. Issues related to slaveholding spilled over into the church’s jurisdiction. Alexander McLeod, a Reformed Presbyterian minister in New York City, published a booklet in 1802 that contended “the practice of buying, holding, or selling our unoffending fellow creatures as slaves is immoral.” As a result, he argued, slaveholders should be barred from church membership and disciplined by the church. While McLeod’s position was been consonant with that of other mainstream Presbyterians when he wrote, it continued to be the position of the Reformed Presbyterians throughout the early nineteenth century, putting them out of step with most American Presbyterians. The continuing Covenanter witness showed how outsider status could prompt Presbyterians to challenge the status quo.42 Canadian Presbyterians were geographical outsiders. However, these Presbyterians provide a significant counterpoint because they maintained their Old World connections and tended to define themselves against their cousins in the United States.43 Even prior to the Revolution, Presbyterians in Nova Scotia and the Maritime Province sought ministers from Scots communions, whether the Associate Synod or the Reformed Synod. During the Revolution, Presbyterians were firmly oriented toward Great Britain; they were Loyalists who viewed New England and its seditious Congregationalism with great nervousness. But Presbyterianism was still a small and somewhat fractious movement in the eighteenth century, making no real headway in Lower Canada.44 One step forward was the development of a union presbytery in 1817, which affirmed a commitment to “their common Presbyterianism, leaving the question of church-state relations which divided Presbyterians in Scotland, as matters of mutual forbearance.” This new presbytery included ministers from the Old World secession Presbyterians, the Church of Scotland, and English Congregationalism and represented perhaps fortythousand people from the colonies of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Prince Edward

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   63 Island, and Cape Breton. Because these Presbyterians had come from the United Kingdom to Canada after the American Revolution, they tended to look to the Old World for their religious norms rather than to the United States. As a result, Canadian Presbyterianism took on a decided Scots orientation.45 As immigrants came to Lower and Upper Canada, they carried their Presbyterianism with them. In 1818, a Presbytery of the Canadas was formed to include approximately sixteen Presbyterian ministers; they would divide seven years later to form separate presbyteries for Ontario and Quebec, but the move toward organization continued to look to the Scots secession presbyteries, especially the Associate Presbytery, and not to the developing Presbyterian churches in the United States. However, in 1825, the Colonial Office for Canada agreed that the Church of Scotland could share with the Church of England a “co-establishment” status and state-funding for its mission. This would accelerate the development of Presbyterian churches, especially in Upper Canada. Yet even with these opportunities and growth, Presbyterianism remained fractured. As historian John Moir noted, “By 1840 at least two major and one minor Presbyterian tradition were reflected by Presbyterianism in British North America.” These three traditions—exclusivist in the Maritime Provinces and more unitive Presbyterianism in Nova Scotia and Upper Canada—reflected Old World debates on colonial soil.46 By keeping their eyes turned to Scotland, Canadian Presbyterians represented an alternative vision of what Presbyterianism was and could be in North America. As with black and Covenanter Presbyterians in the United States, these New World Presbyterians did not fit easily into the larger narrative of cultural influence and custodianship that Americanization conferred upon the mainstream Presbyterian tradition. As a result, they serve to highlight both the opportunities and problems that faced Presbyterians in the United States.

Divisions and (Re-)Unions If the outsiders raised significant questions about the mainstream American Presbyterian project, the force of national events created new divisions and combinations in the middle part of the nineteenth century. Although Methodists divided geographically in 1844 and Baptists in 1845 over slavery—the two main branches of Presbyterianism in America remained united, largely by not talking about slavery.47 The New School Presbyterian body divided over slavery first, in 1857. Since the division of 1837, the New School had condemned slavery generally but had not disciplined any member or minister who owned slaves. However, because of their continued partnership with the Congregationalists in the American Home Missionary Society, they experienced increased pressure to expel slaveowners or face the defunding of their missionaries. Starting in 1853, the New School required southern presbyteries to report whether they were disciplining slaveholders. Three years later, New School leader Albert Barnes published The Church and Slavery to demand that the denomination eradicate

64   sean michael lucas slavery once and for all. That prompted southern New School Presbyterians to withdraw and form the United Synod of the South.48 The Old School stayed united until the election of Abraham Lincoln and the marshalling of troops after the attack on Fort Sumter in April 1861. When the General Assembly met in Philadelphia in May, Gardiner Spring offered resolutions calling on the denomination “to promote and perpetuate” “the integrity of these United States” and profess their “unabated loyalty” to the Constitution. Although some protested that the resolutions involved the church in a political matter, they were adopted by a nearly two-to-one margin. In response, Southern Old School Presbyterians, who had largely avoided the assembly, formed the Presbyterian Church in the Confederate States of America in December 1861. The body elected B. M. Palmer as their first moderator, who the year before had exhorted the South “to conserve and to perpetuate the institution of domestic slavery.”49 As a result, by 1862, mainstream Presbyterian in the United States had four branches. While ostensibly separate from the state, the church so embodied American cultural and political tensions that as the country fragmented, so did Presbyterian denominations. The Civil War was a theological crisis, as historian Mark Noll observed, because the churches embraced their role as cultural custodians and thus reflected the larger political and cultural divisions in the country. The same cultural embeddedness that led to division later propelled some branches toward reunion. The need for a united effort to fight a massive civil war led Presbyterian leaders North and South to unite to further Christ’s cause in their cultural locations.50 The southern Old and New Schools reunited first. Spurred on by Robert Lewis Dabney, a Virginia Presbyterian and sometime chief of staff to Stonewall Jackson, the southern Presbyterian church absorbed the United Synod of the South in 1864. Dabney was motivated by the desire to have “one Southern Presbyterian Zion,” and he was willing to give ground on a number of doctrinal issues to secure the union. After the war ended, the combined church renamed itself the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS).51 After Appomattox, the northern Old School church presumed that it would reunite with the seceding southern body. To that end, the 1865 Assembly met in Pittsburgh and adopted resolutions that set the basis for receiving their erring brothers: a recognition that “the civil rebellion for the perpetuation of negro slavery [was] a great crime, both against our National Government and against God, and the secession of the Presbyteries and Synods from the Presbyterian Church, under such circumstances and for such reasons, [was] unwarranted, schismatical, and unconstitutional.” Not surprisingly, southerners did not view these as serious terms for reunion. For the next five years, northern Presbyterians sought to reunite or even to re-establish fraternal relations with the southern body; each time, they were rebuffed. The reunion was not finally accomplished until 1983.52 Failure to reunite with the southern Presbyterian church did not stop the northerners from seeking reunion in their own region. As early as 1862, some Old School leaders had broached the idea of reunion with the New School; throughout the war, these leaders

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   65 worked to re-establish lines of communication and a relationship with their former colleagues and friends. After the Civil War ended, reunion picked up momentum. In 1867, several communions gathered at a “National Presbyterian Union Convention” to consider the possibility of a united Presbyterian denomination. Although the convention did not accomplish this goal, it provided the impetus for the northern Old and New Schools to come together. New School theologian Henry Boynton Smith assured Old School leaders that the theological issues that had divided the two groups were no longer problems; the two sides could reunite based on the Westminster Standards, “pure and simple.” In 1869, the two schools voted overwhelmingly to reunite and forge a single Presbyterian body—the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA)—to exert greater leadership in the nation.53 Even Canada was not immune to fervor for union. With the Canadian Confederation in 1867, Presbyterians saw the advantages of forging a single body to influence “His Majesty’s Dominion.” The fractious bodies within Canadian Presbyterianism had largely coalesced into two significant denominations: the Presbyterian Church of Canada (often called the Free Church, modeled after the Free Church of Scotland) and the Kirk Synod (related to the Church of Scotland). As the smaller bodies continued to unite, and as they cheered on the process of national confederation, the mood turned toward Presbyterian union and the creation of a national church. One Canadian Presbyterian newspaper declared, “It is contrary to the genius of Presbyterianism to be hanging on to the skirts of transatlantic churches.”54 In 1870, the first moves toward union were made. The committee, formed by all Canada’s major Presbyterian bodies, most notably Presbyterian Church of Canada and the Kirk Synod, found that the most important disagreements were dealt with rather easily—the headship of Christ over church and state was handled through a single compromise statement about “full liberty of opinion,” while the use of instruments in worship was solved by a “local option” that allowed liberty for individual sessions to determine how to order worship. Although some churches preferred to remain independent, the wave of union was too strong for most. In 1875, the Presbyterian Church in Canada was formed with six hundred ministers and six hundred thousand members. It was the largest Protestant denomination in Canada, and it would hold a leadership position for the next fifty years, until two-thirds of the church was absorbed in the United Church of Canada in 1925.55

A Church with the Soul of the Nation Each of these unions, creating “regional” or “national” churches, was motivated by the allure of greater cultural influence and custodianship. The PCUSA typified the cultural exchange that occurred in mainstream Protestantism during the postbellum era. On the one hand, the church’s commitment to American culture and values caused it to grow rapidly throughout the period. But on the other hand, the influence of the culture

66   sean michael lucas created fissures that led to divisions in the twentieth century. As the nation experienced tensions and division over its identity and direction, so did Presbyterians. The PCUSA represented the mainstream American Protestantism commitment to a reflexive patriotism. Such a close alignment between the denomination and American values led to criticism, especially from suspicious southerners like Robert Lewis Dabney. When the 1873 PCUSA General Assembly spent a great deal of time planning for the denomination’s role in the upcoming national centennial, Dabney mocked its extreme patriotism. After one elder claimed that “we owe allegiance to our country— first to God, and, secondly, to our country. Nail the flag just below the cross, and stand by, and if need be, die by it,” Dabney complained that this mixture of politics and Presbyterianism would be disastrous for the northern communion. Of course, southern Presbyterians were not immune to such nationalism; it simply took different forms throughout the period.56 Another way in which the PCUSA embodied national ideas was through its developing denominational bureaucracy, which was deemed necessary to advance the church’s cause of advancing American values. Early in the twentieth century, Presbyterian minister William Adams Brown observed, “We are trying . . . to supply the unifying spiritual influence needed in a democracy by means of a strong, coherent, free Church, and so make possible under the conditions of our modern life the coming of the new social order called by our Maker the Kingdom of God.” As the nation pressed westward, Presbyterians believed that denominational structures and organizational efficacy would transform America’s soul. By the end of the nineteenth century, the denomination had doubled the size of the Board of National Missions, extended the reach of its Board of Foreign Missions, and plunged into ministries to women, disabled ministers, and retired church leaders—all in an effort to transform America.57 Presbyterians believed that nothing would transform America as effectively as old-time gospel preaching. Presbyterians coupled their commitment to America and denominational structures with support of evangelists. Some of these evangelists went to the poorer, rural sections of the country to bring the blessings of Christianity and civilization. E. O. Guerrant worked to evangelize the Appalachian region. Guerrant started over a hundred churches, becoming known as the “Apostle to the Highlands.” Other evangelists went to the cities, especially in the train of Dwight L. Moody. Perhaps the most significant was J. Wilbur Chapman, a Moody associate who led the PCUSA’s Committee on Evangelism and after 1900 became a full-time evangelist.58 All this effort toward national transformation confronted a significant barrier: shifting views on the importance of orthodoxy in advancing the mission of the church. With the 1874 heresy trial of the prominent Chicago minister David Swing, it became clear that a significant number of PCUSA ministers no longer held to the orthodoxy represented by the Westminster Standards. Rather, they wanted to adapt the faith to the emerging modern American culture—especially in its embrace of evolutionary science applied to a range of disciplines—to help the church maintain its influence. Others were determined to resist the theological broadening of the church. As the nineteenth century closed, the church experienced three significant theological trials

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   67 of Union Seminary professors—Charles Briggs, A. C. McGiffert, and Preserved Smith; it also insisted that clergy affirm certain fundamental doctrines as implied in their ordination vows.59 This resistance was led by Princeton Seminary faculty who sought to buttress classic orthodoxy. Archibald A. Hodge, Benjamin B. Warfield, and William Henry Green produced a body of scholarship that defended the inspiration of the Bible, arguing that God the Holy Spirit had superintended the writing of the original autographs of Scripture in such a way that they were “inerrant.” The commitment to biblical inerrancy would shape and define conservative Presbyterianism for the next hundred years. Though their scholarship was respected, the Princeton professors were out of step with the larger ethos of the nation and the trajectory of the church, which in the twentieth century produced deep tensions between “Christianity and liberalism.”60 The PCUS was not immune to these tensions. After Reconstruction ended in 1877, a new breed of Presbyterian minister came to occupy many New South pulpits. Confronted by the challenges of postbellum America and the sputtering southern economy, these pastors had less patience with doctrinal debate and focused more on practical ministry in towns like Nashville, Birmingham, Richmond, and Atlanta. The older leadership, especially B.  M.  Palmer and Robert Lewis Dabney, was quietly moved to the side. Younger leaders, like James I. Vance, Walter W. Moore, A. J. McKelway, and W. L. Lingle, led the church into the twentieth century with a new focus on social Christianity. Older doctrines, such as biblical inspiration, came under attack in the PCUS as the emerging results of higher criticism and biological evolution was debated. Like the PCUSA, the PCUS had a division between progressives and conservatives.61 Both groups of Presbyterians felt the cultural winds shift and tacked accordingly. This was required by their common commitment to cultural custodianship: they adapted to American culture to maintain their influence. These habits derived from Presbyterianism’s earliest days in America. As an Old World faith in the New World, part of Americanization involved doing theology indigenously. Not everyone agreed on what American Presbyterianism should be, which produced competing “traditions” throughout the nineteenth century. That theology, culture, and politics mixed in ways that resulted in competing American Presbyterian traditions—and outsiders to those traditions—is not surprising. Perhaps more surprising is that even with the break-up of mainline Presbyterianism in the next century, this mainline Protestant commitment to cultural custodianship continues, even in the smaller successor bodies that came from the northern and southern Presbyterian branches. Such is proof that Presbyterians continue to be a church with the soul of the nation.

Notes 1. See Guy S. Klett, ed., Minutes of the Presbyterian Church in America, 1706–1788 (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Historical Society, 1976), 1–6. Compare with Francis Makemie to Benjamin Colman, 28 March 1707, in Charles  A.  Briggs, American Presbyterianism: Its Origin and Early History (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1885), Appendix 8, xlix–I.

68   sean michael lucas 2. For basic statistical information, see Edwin  S.  Gustad, Historical Atlas of Religion in America (New York: Harper and Row, 1976), 20–21, 92. 3. Nathan O. Hatch, The Democratization of American Christianity (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1989). 4. Sean Michael Lucas, “Presbyterians in America: Denominational History and the Quest for Identity,” in American Denominational History: Perspectives on the Past, Prospects for the Future, ed. Keith Harper (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2008), 50–70. 5. For an alternative interpretation, see Leonard J. Trinterud, The Forming of an American Tradition: A Re-examination of Colonial Presbyterianism (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1949). 6. Sidney Mead, The Nation with the Soul of a Church (New York: Harper and Row, 1975). Several historians have sought to explain the relationship of Presbyterianism to American culture. For a more positive appraisal, see Bradley J. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013); for a more negative one, see D. G. Hart and John Muether, Seeking a Better Country: 300 Years of American Presbyterianism (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007). 7. Boyd S. Schlenther, ed., The Life and Writings of Francis Makemie (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Historical Society, 1971), 13. 8. Schlenther, Francis Makemie, 14, 15, 17, 19–20, 25. 9. Schlenther, Francis Makemie, 19; Briggs, American Presbyterianism, 124–125. 10. Francis Makemie to Benjamin Colman, 28 March 1707, in Briggs, American Presbyterianism, Appendix 10, xlv–l. 11. Jon Butler, Power, Authority, and the Origins of American Denominational Order: The English Churches in the Delaware Valley, 1680–1730 (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2009), 98–100. 12. Patrick Griffin, The People with No Name: Ireland’s Ulster Scots, America’s Scots Irish, and the Creation of a British Atlantic World (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2001), 19. 13. Griffin, People with No Name, 19–21; Trinterud, American Tradition, 39; and S.  Donald Fortson III, “The Adopting Act Compromise,” in Colonial Presbyterianism: Old Faith in a New Land, ed. S. Donald Fortson III (Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2007), 64–67. 14. Klett, Minutes, 46; Butler, Power, Authority, 112–113. 15. Klett, Minutes, 47, 50–51. 16. Bryan F. Le Beau, Jonathan Dickinson and the Formative Years of American Presbyterianism (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997), 30–31. 17. Trinterud, American Tradition, 45. 18. Klett, Minutes, 103–104; Trinterud, American Tradition, 49. 19. Fortson, “Adopting Act Compromise,” 75–76; and William S. Barker, “The Heresy Trial of Samuel Hemphill (1735),” in Fortson, Colonial Presbyterianism, 87–111. 20. Thomas S. Kidd, George Whitefield: America’s Spiritual Founding Father (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2014). On the Great Awakening, see Kidd, The Great Awakening: The Roots of Evangelical Christianity in Colonial America (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2007). 21. Marilyn J. Westerkamp, Triumph of the Laity: Scots-Irish Piety and the Great Awakening, 1625–1760 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988); Milton J Coalter Jr., Gilbert Tennent, Son of Thunder: A Case Study of Continental Pietism’s Impact on the First Great Awakening in the Middle Colonies (New York: Greenwood, 1986); and Timothy  D.  Hall, Contested

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   69 Boundaries: Itinerancy and the Reshaping of the Colonial American Religious World (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1994). 22. Tennent (in)famously preached on “The Dangers of an Unconverted Ministry” at the height of the Awakening, a sermon that summarized many of these dividing points between the New and Old Sides. See Alan Heimert and Perry Miller, eds., The Great Awakening: Documents Illustrating the Crisis and Its Consequences (Indianapolis, IN: Bobbs-Merrill, 1967), 71–99. 23. Mark A. Noll, Princeton and the Republic, 1768–1822 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1989); and Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 27. 24. Coalter, Gilbert Tennent, 151–157; Klett, Minutes, 343. 25. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 25–52; Noll, Princeton and the Republic, 50. 26. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 49–50, quotation on 50; and Hart and Muether, Seeking a Better Country, 82–88. 27. Noll, Princeton and the Republic, 34–54; Mark  A.  Noll, America’s God: From Jonathan Edwards to Abraham Lincoln (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 53–113, 227–255. 28. See “The Plan of Union,” in Maurice W. Armstrong, Lefferts A. Loetscher, and Charles A. Anderson, eds., The Presbyterian Enterprise: Sources of American Presbyterian History (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1956), chap. 4, sec. 6, pp. 102–104. 29. E. T. Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, 3 vols. (Richmond, VA: John Knox, 1963–1973), 1:324–328. 30. George M. Marsden, The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970), 43; and Daniel Day Williams, The Andover Liberals: A Study in American Theology (New York: Octagon, 1970). 31. For a summary, see Noll, America’s God, 269–276. 32. Douglas A. Sweeney, Nathaniel William Taylor, New Haven Theology, and the Legacy of Jonathan Edwards (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003); Noll, America’s God, 281. 33. Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 71–75. 34. James H. Moorhead, Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012). 35. “The Exscinding Acts,” in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, chap, 6, sec. 6, 156–158. 36. Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 93–103; and Catherine Glennan Borchert, “Exscinded! The Schism of 1837 in the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America and the Role of Slavery” (PhD diss., Case Western Reserve University, 2009), 157–184, 353–359. 37. “Domestic Slavery Is No Bar to Christian Communion,” in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, chap. 8, sec. 2, 200–202. 38. Andrew Murray, Presbyterians and the Negro: A History (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Historical Society, 1966), 32–35; and Loetscher, Facing the Enlightenment, 101–102. 39. Murray, Presbyterians and the Negro, 37; David E. Swift, Black Prophets of Justice: Activist Clergy Before the Civil War (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1989), 2–3; and “Mapping the African American Past: Shiloh Church,” Mapping the African American Past (MAAP) website, accessed January 3, 2019. http://maap.columbia.edu/place/37. 40. Swift, Black Prophets, 8, 36–39, 54–56. 41. This and the next three paragraphs are drawn from Joseph S. Moore, Founding Sins: How a Group of Antislavery Radicals Fought to Put Christ into the Constitution (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016). See also Ray A. King, A History of the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (Greenville, SC: Christian Education Publications, 2008).

70   sean michael lucas 42. Alexander McLeod, Negro Slavery Unjustifiable: A Discourse (New York: T&F Swords, 1802), 7, available at Presbyterian Church in America Historical Center website, accessed January 3, 2019. http://pcahistory.org/findingaids/rpcgs/McLeod-Slavery.pdf. 43. Mark A. Noll, A History of Christianity in the United States and Canada (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1992), 247, 249. 44. John S. Moir, Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada (Toronto: Bryant Press, 1974), 38, 43, 53–54. 45. Moir, Enduring Witness, 60–62. 46. Moir, Enduring Witness, 70–71, 76. 47. See C. C. Goen, Broken Churches, Broken Nation: Denominational Schisms and the Coming of the Civil War (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1988). 48. Murray, Presbyterians and the Negro, 112–115; and Harold M. Parker, The United Synod of the South: The Southern New School Presbyterian Church (New York: Greenwood, 1988). 49. “The Spring Resolutions,” in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, chap. 8, sec. 6. 211–212; Lewis G. Vander Velde, The Presbyterian Churches and the Federal Union, 1861–1869 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1932); and “To Conserve and to Perpetuate the Institution of Domestic Slavery,” in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, chap. 8, sec. 4, 205. 50. Mark A. Noll, The Civil War as Theological Crisis (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2006). 51. Sean Michael Lucas, Robert Lewis Dabney: A Southern Presbyterian Life (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2005), 136–143. 52. “Reconstruction,” in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, chap. 8, sec. 8, 219; and Lucas, Robert Lewis Dabney, 150–160. 53. Paul  C.  Gutjahr, Charles Hodge: Guardian of American Orthodoxy (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), 336–343; and Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 110–115. 54. Noll, History of Christianity, 274; Moir, Enduring Witness, 135. 55. Moir, Enduring Witness, 135, 139. 56. Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 182–211; and [Dabney,] Presbyterianism, with the Modern Improvements, (n.p., n.d.), 11, quoted in Lucas, Robert Lewis Dabney, 153. 57. James H. Moorhead, “Presbyterians and the Mystic of Organizational Efficiency, 1870–1936,” in Reimagining Denominationalism: Interpretive Essays, ed. Robert Bruce Mullin and Russell E. Richey (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994), 264, 270. 58. E. O. Guerrant, The Galax Gatherers: The Gospel among the Highlanders (Knoxville: University of Tennessee, 2005); and Sean Michael Lucas, “J. Wilbur Chapman,” in Encyclopedia of Religious Revivals in America, ed. Michael J. McClymond (New York: Greenwood, 2006), 2 vols. 1:94–95. 59. William R. Hutchison, ed., American Protestant Thought in the Liberal Era (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1985); George M. Marsden, Fundamentalism and American Culture: The Shaping of Twentieth-Century Evangelicalism, 1870–1925 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2006), 116–117; and Lefferts  A.  Loetscher, The Broadening Church: A Study of Theological Issues in the Presbyterian Church since 1869 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1954). 60. William R. Hutchison, The Modernist Impulse in American Protestantism (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1992); Marsden, Fundamentalism and American Culture, 109–118; and J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (New York: Macmillan, 1923). 61. Lucas, Robert Lewis Dabney, 197–211; and Sean Michael Lucas, For a Continuing Church: The Roots of the Presbyterian Church in America (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2015), 12–38.

eighteenth- and nineteenth-century presbyterianism   71

Bibliography Armstrong, Maurice W., Lefferts A. Loetscher, and Charles A. Anderson, eds. The Presbyterian Enterprise: Sources of American Presbyterian History. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1956. Coalter, Milton J, Jr. Gilbert Tennent, Son of Thunder: A Case Study of Continental Pietism’s Impact on the First Great Awakening in the Middle Colonies. Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1986. Fortson, S. Donald, III, ed. Colonial Presbyterianism: Old Faith in a New Land. Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2007. Gutjahr, Paul C. Charles Hodge: Guardian of American Orthodoxy. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011. Hart, D. G., and John Muether. Seeking a Better Country: 300 Years of American Presbyterianism. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007. King, Ray  A. A History of the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church. Greenville, SC: Christian Education Publications, 2008. Le Beau, Bryan F. Jonathan Dickinson and the Formative Years of American Presbyterianism. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997. Longfield, Bradley J. Presbyterians and American Culture: A History. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Lucas, Sean Michael. For a Continuing Church: The Roots of the Presbyterian Church in America. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2015. Lucas, Sean Michael. “Presbyterians in America: Denominational History and the Quest for Identity.” In American Denominational History: Perspectives on the Past, Prospects for the Future, edited by Keith Harper, 50–70. Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2008. Lucas, Sean Michael. Robert Lewis Dabney: A Southern Presbyterian Life. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2005. Marsden, George M. The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970. Moir, John  S. Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Toronto: Bryant Press, 1974. Moore, Joseph S. Founding Sins: How a Group of Antislavery Radicals Fought to Put Christ into the Constitution. New York: Oxford University Press, 2016. Moorhead, James H. “Presbyterians and the Mystic of Organizational Efficiency, 1870–1936,” In Reimagining Denominationalism: Interpretive Essays, edited by Robert Bruce Mullin and Russell E. Richey, 264–287. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994. Moorhead, James H. Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012. Murray, Andrew. Presbyterians and the Negro: A History. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Historical Society, 1966. Noll, Mark A. Princeton the Republic, 1768–1822. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1989. Parker, Harold  M. The United Synod of the South: The Southern New School Presbyterian Church. New York: Greenwood, 1988. Schlenther, Boyd S., ed. The Life and Writings of Francis Makemie. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Historical Society, 1971. Swift, David E. Black Prophets of Justice: Activist Clergy Before the Civil War. Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 1989. Trinterud, Leonard J. The Forming of an American Tradition: A Re-examination of Colonial Presbyterianism. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1949.

chapter 5

Pr esby ter i a n ism i n the U n ited State s a n d Ca na da i n the T w en tieth a n d T w en t y-First Cen t u r ie s Bradley J. Longfield

Introduction At the turn of the twentieth century, Presbyterians in the United States and Canada were divided into denominations identified largely by ethnicity and geography. The two largest denominations in the United States, the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) and the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), looked historically to English, Scottish, and Scots-Irish roots, but had, since their division with the Civil War in 1861, identified significantly as a northern denomination, that is the PCUSA, and a southern denomination, that is, the PCUS. The Cumberland Presbyterian Church (CPC) had split from the PCUSA in 1810 over theology and ordination requirements, gaining its greatest strength in the trans-Appalachian South. The Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARPC) was a largely Scottish communion concentrated in the southern United States, and the United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA) was a largely Scottish and Scots-Irish denomination concentrated in the North. The Presbyterian Church in Canada (PCC) had been formed in 1875 from four churches that all hailed, in various ways, from Scotland.1 Although geography continued to play a significant role in the identity of Presbyterians in the United States and Canada in the twentieth century, theological differences, spurred

74   bradley j. longfield by major developments in the intellectual, social, and cultural realms, contributed to a major realignment of Presbyterians marked by the union of some denominations, the birth of new denominations, and the movement of congregations and members between these bodies. Presbyterians in these years wrestled with biblical authority and interpretation, confessionalism and theology, ecumenism, education and nurture, mission, personal piety and ethics, race, and worship and arrived at varying positions. In all of this, Presbyterians struggled with questions of identity, vis-à-vis the broader culture and each other, in an effort to provide a faithful witness in rapidly secularizing cultures.

Early Twentieth-Century Presbyterianism In the PCUSA, also informally known as the northern Presbyterian Church, intellectual, cultural, and social developments of the late nineteenth century set the stage for the fundamentalist-modernist conflict in the early twentieth century. The publication of Origin of Species by Charles Darwin in 1859 and the increasing popularity of higher criticism of the Bible challenged widely held beliefs about the Bible’s reliability and authority. In the mid-nineteenth century, the revered Princeton Seminary professor Charles Hodge found the theory of natural selection to be irreconcilable with the Calvinistic understanding of God’s providence, but Hodge’s successors at the seminary, Archibald A. Hodge and Benjamin B. Warfield, endorsed the idea of theistic evolution. In the realm of biblical studies, German scholarship, which questioned the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch and the accuracy of the Gospels, found increasing acceptance in certain American colleges and seminaries, leading the faculty of Princeton Seminary to articulate the doctrine of biblical inerrancy. “The Scriptures not only contain but are, the word of god, and hence . . . all their elements and all their affirmations are absolutely errorless and binding the faith and obedience of men,” Archibald A. Hodge and Warfield wrote in 1881.2 Given the deep authority Presbyterians had always accorded to the Scriptures, this issue would dominate theological conversations throughout the twentieth century. In addition to these intellectual developments, technological change drove significant industrial change, made America the world’s leading industrial nation by 1900, and made a handful of entrepreneurs phenomenally wealthy. Meanwhile, millions of factory workers struggled under relentless poverty. Increased immigration from 1880 to 1910 changed the face of America, and increased urbanization eventually changed the nation from a rural to an urban country. Christians responded to these trends in different ways. Many, who came to be known as modernists or liberals, sought to reconcile the traditional faith with evolutionary thought and higher criticism. Liberals stressed the need to adapt theology to modern culture, emphasized the immanence of God in culture, and embraced the postmillennial

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   75 view that society was moving toward the fulfillment of the Kingdom of God. A significant group of modernists also espoused the Social Gospel, which emphasized social rather than individual salvation and sought to address the poverty and injustice of the era by promoting progressive social reform. In the late nineteenth century, differences between liberals and their more conservative counterparts in the PCUSA erupted in the bitter heresy trial of Charles Augustus Briggs. Briggs, the nation’s leading biblical scholar, taught at the Presbyterian Union Theological Seminary in New York. In 1891 he was transferred to a new academic chair at Union; in his inaugural address, he claimed that the Scriptures contained errors and denied the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, the view that prophecy predicted the future, and the single authorship of Isaiah. In response, the 1892 General Assembly, in a declaration known as the Portland Deliverance, endorsed the doctrine of biblical inerrancy, and the 1893 Assembly defrocked Briggs for violating his ordination vows. Throughout the 1890s, Briggs and many others lobbied for changes in the Westminster Confession, the church’s confessional standard since 1729, to bring it more into line with contemporary thought. These efforts led the church to approve a number of changes that emphasized God’s love and the salvation of all who die as infants. While some, such as Warfield, insisted that the Confession remained a solidly Calvinistic document, many in the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (CPC), thought that the revisions opened the way for reunion. The CPC, at its formation, had rejected the Calvinistic teachings of double predestination and limited atonement, but, given these revisions, proposed a reunion. Many in the PCUSA wondered why the Cumberland Church, a denomination largely Arminian in doctrine, wanted to join with Calvinists. But significant numbers in the Cumberland Church were convinced that, given the 1903 revisions, the creeds of the two denominations were essentially the same and saw no impediments to reunion. Because the CPC would not countenance racially integrated presbyteries in the South, the plan for reunion proposed segregated presbyteries, a proposal that brought stiff opposition from some African Americans and whites in the PCUSA. Most northern Presbyterians were willing to achieve ecclesial reunion at the cost of racial separation, however, and the reunion was consummated in 1906. With this, the group that favored looser subscription to the Confession grew substantially, and the influx would significantly impact conflicts later in the century.3 Not all clergy and members of the CPC were convinced that reunion was a good idea, however. Indeed, reunion lost the popular vote in the denomination; but it was approved by the requisite number of presbyteries. Opponents were not convinced that the two bodies were in doctrinal agreement and thought the CPC was giving far more than it was getting. In the wake of the reunion of 1906, about one-third of the membership rejected the union, many CPC presbyteries and congregations divided, and property lawsuits continued for years.4 The continuing CPC struggled after the division, but by the 1920s, it had begun to stabilize, and by the 1930s, membership began to rise so that the church counted over seventy thousand members in 1941. In 1921, far in advance of other Presbyterian communions, the CPC approved women’s ordination as both pastors and elders.5

76   bradley j. longfield While the Cumberland Presbyterian Church and PCUSA were discussing reunion, the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARPC), a southern communion derived from the Scottish church secession of 1733, and the United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA), formed in the mid-nineteenth century from a union of the Associate Synod and the Associate Reformed Synod, were also engaged in union conversations. The UPCNA, a northern denomination with strong antislavery roots, supported missions among freed slaves after the Civil War. The ARPC was committed to racial segregation, and many of its members feared that union with the UPCNA would eventually result in racially integrated presbyteries, a possibility they could not countenance. This issue contributed significantly to the defeat of the proposal in 1904 and the cessation of any further union talks for the near future.6 Many in the PCUSA would have preferred a reunion with the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), also known as the southern Presbyterian Church, which had been formed in 1861 as the result of the Civil War. But significant numbers in the PCUS, who tended to be more theologically conservative than their northern peers, worried about the theological orthodoxy of those in the North, and the reunion with the Cumberland Presbyterian Church confirmed their suspicions. In 1908, the PCUS did join the newly formed Federal Council of Churches, but organic union with other denominations struck most southern Presbyterians as a threat to their faith and culture.7 As some in the PCUSA were promoting changes in theology, others were encouraging changes in worship. In 1905, the General Assembly, despite significant opposition from an anti-liturgical segment of the church, approved the first Book of Common Worship for voluntary use, which was published in 1906. In 1932, the General Assembly approved some minor changes in the communion service and added a lectionary for the liturgical year. The PCUS General Assembly recommended The Book of Common Worship for the voluntary use of clergy the same year. In Canada, Presbyterians in the first two decades of the century witnessed a similar growth of concern for liturgical order.8 As liberals became more assertive in the early twentieth century, the General Assemblies of the PCUSA of 1910 and 1916 adopted declarations asserting that all ministerial candidates needed to be able to affirm five doctrines that became known as the  “fundamentals”: the inerrancy of Scripture and the virgin birth, substitutionary atonement, miracle-working power, and the bodily resurrection of Christ. Prominent Presbyterians—Robert Speer, William Erdman, Charles Erdman, and Benjamin B. Warfield—contributed to a series of books titled The Fundamentals: A Testimony to the Truth, which addressed such issues as sin, salvation, the virgin birth, missions, and scriptural authority. Underwritten by two wealthy Presbyterian oilmen, Lyman Stewart and Milton Stewart, the books were published from 1910 to 1915 and distributed widely across the English-speaking world.9 The UPCNA entered the twentieth century with a strong missionary spirit that led to the formation of the New Wilmington Missionary Conference in New Wilmington, Pennsylvania, in 1906. The church’s passionate commitment to racial justice was manifest

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   77 in its mission to African Americans, and its desire to work with other communions was demonstrated by its charter membership in the Federal Council of Churches, in 1908. The UPCNA joined a strong concern for improving social conditions with a deep desire to cultivate personal piety through home worship, catechesis, and Sabbath practice.10 With the cultural crisis of the 1920s, the tensions between liberals and conservatives that had been growing in the PCUSA exploded in the fundamentalist-modernist ­controversy. Liberals, in response to conservative efforts to enforce the five fundamentals, developed a document, published in 1924, known as the “Auburn Affirmation,” which argued for toleration of a variety of theological positions and claimed that requirements like the five fundamentals could be binding only if they were approved by both the General Assembly and the presbyteries. The next year, when liberals threatened to leave the denomination over conservative enforcement of the five fundamentals, the General Assembly formed a special commission to study the unrest in the church and propose ways to ensure its peace and progress. The Special Commission of 1925, in its reports in 1926 and 1927, asserted that the conflict resulted from numerous factors, denied the conservative claim that a radically liberal party existed in the denomination, and essentially agreed with the “Auburn Affirmation” that doctrinal declarations required the Assembly to act in concert with the presbyteries. With this, the tolerance of liberals in the church was essentially guaranteed.11 The commission noted that the role of women in the PCUSA was among the factors producing conflict, and in response, the General Assembly commissioned a study: “Causes of Unrest among Women of the Church.” In 1920, the church had defeated a proposal to allow women to be elders, and in 1923, the Women’s Boards of Home Missions and Foreign Missions were merged with national denominational bodies, causing resentment among many of the leading women in the church. At least partially in response to the commission’s work, the PCUSA approved the ordination of women as elders in 1930.12 After the approval of the final report of the Commission of 1925, the conflict moved to Princeton Theological Seminary, the flagship seminary of the PCUSA. Princeton Seminary was reorganized in 1929 to still unrest among the faculty, leading J. Gresham Machen and many others to resign their positions at Princeton and to found Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. The publication in 1932 of Re-Thinking Missions: A Laymen’s Inquiry after One Hundred Years, a liberal critique of the Protestant missionary enterprise, precipitated the last round of the conflict. Although the Laymen’s Inquiry had received the tentative support of the PCUSA, the Board of Foreign Missions, on the publication of the findings, repudiated its more radical aspects and declared its allegiance to Christ as the only Lord and Savior. Dissatisfied with this response, Machen founded the Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions in 1933, which was declared unconstitutional by the 1934 General Assembly. Machen and others continued to support the Independent Board and were therefore defrocked in 1936.13 Machen led in the formation of the Presbyterian Church of America, now the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC), and died shortly thereafter, in 1937. That year,

78   bradley j. longfield disagreements over premillennialism and the use of alcoholic beverages led to a schism in the Presbyterian Church of America and the formation of the Bible Presbyterian Synod under Carl McIntire. Only seventy-five ministers and five thousand members had left the PCUSA with Machen to found the Presbyterian Church of America, but the  fallout from the fundamentalist-modernist controversy continued to influence Presbyterianism in the United States for the better part of the century.14 As the PCUSA was embroiled in the fundamentalist-modernist controversy, the UPCNA, in 1925, decided to abandon the Westminster Confession for a new confession that was conservative and Calvinistic. The Confession affirmed that the Scriptures were “an infallible rule of faith and practice,” that “all men . . . are born with a sinful nature,” and that God elected individuals to be saved. In 1945, the church permitted the singing of hymns in addition to the Psalms, which had been the historical practice in the communion. Though the UPCNA and the PCUSA engaged in union talks in the early 1930s, many in the UPCNA worried about both the loose theology of the liberals and the militancy of the fundamentalists in the larger denomination. This, combined with the concern of UPCNA women over a loss of influence in foreign missions if the denominations were to merge, sent the effort down in defeat.15 The PCUS, determined to maintain its distinctive conservative witness, watched the battles in the northern church with apprehension, and refused to modify its Confession. Sabbatarianism, opposition to gambling, and abstinence from alcoholic beverages all remained significant concerns of its members. Indeed, the opposition to alcohol was so strong that the PCUS General Assembly in 1913 abandoned its long-held doctrine of the “spirituality of the church,” which prohibited the church from addressing social or political concerns, to endorse prohibition.16 Although the PCUS skirmished over liberalism in the early twentieth century, it experienced nothing as dramatic as the warfare in the PCUSA. The conservatives in the PCUS periodically sought to discipline the liberals, but the efforts never developed much traction. Even so, liberalism failed to realize significant gains. The denomination had struggled over the theory of biological evolution in the 1880s, resulting in James Woodrow’s removal from the faculty of Columbia Seminary in Georgia for accepting biological evolution, and it still maintained a largely conservative stance on the topic in the early twentieth century.17 In Canada, Presbyterians also engaged in significant struggles in the first three decades of the twentieth century, but there the major issue was the effort to unite Presbyterian, Methodist, and Congregational Churches into the United Church of Canada. The four main strands of Canadian Presbyterianism had united in a single church in 1875, taking the Westminster Confession as the doctrinal standard, and by the turn of the twentieth century, Presbyterians had become the largest Protestant denomination in the nation. As with Presbyterians south of the border, Canadian Presbyterians were strong Sabbatarians and opposed the use of alcoholic beverages.18 In 1902, conversations about forming a single national Protestant church in Canada started. The proponents sought to build a united Protestant communion, to have a greater

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   79 Christian influence, resist secularizing forces, evangelize new immigrant communities, unify the nation, and increase efficiency. Cross-border influence was manifest in the use of “A Brief Statement of the Reformed Faith,” which had been written but never adopted by the PCUS, as a model for doctrinal consensus among the three Canadian churches that were discussing union.19 Although many Canadian Presbyterians were persuaded that a united Protestant church was God’s will, others saw no convincing reason to abandon their particular traditions, and opposed union every step of the way. Reasons for the opposition varied: some opposed abandoning the Westminster Confession for a less-robust doctrinal document and a revised polity; some opposed the liberalism and Social Gospel emphasis among Methodists; some sought to hold fast to a church that would continue to emphasize its Scottish roots; and all wanted to maintain the distinctive witness of a Presbyterian Church in Canada. Negotiations between the three denominations were suspended because of the Great War. When conversations resumed in 1921, supporters of union were determined to move the effort forward promptly.20 In 1925, the union of the three denominations was consummated, but about one-third of the Presbyterians, 154,243 communicants, refused to enter the United Church. Congregations divided, and families and friendships were strained. Opposition to union was strongest in cities in eastern Canada, particularly in Ontario, and especially strong among laity. The organizers of the United Church insisted that the Presbyterian Church as a body had entered the union, but those who opted out insisted that the Presbyterian Church continued with them. Not until an act of Parliament in 1939 would this dispute be resolved, granting the undisputed right to the Presbyterian name to those who did not join the United Church of Canada.21 Because the anti-union forces consisted of a number of parties, the Presbyterian Church in Canada (PCC) lacked a theological center. Some were confessional conservatives, some were theologically progressive or modernist, and a third group was beginning to echo the new dialectical theology of Swiss theologian Karl Barth. Because 90 percent of its ministers had entered the United Church, the Presbyterian Church had a shortage of clergy and turned to the Princeton Seminary, particularly J.  Gresham Machen, for assistance in recruiting clergy. Machen, who had battled interdenominational movements in the United States, supported the Canadian anti-unionists in their struggles and encouraged Westminster Seminary students to seek calls in Canada. Lacking denominational structures, the PCC turned to the PCUS to supply Sunday school curriculum until it could write its own.22 The continuing PCC inherited Knox College in Toronto and Presbyterian College in Montreal and had to rebuild their faculties. Walter Bryden, who was appointed a lecturer in church history, became the major theological voice of the PCC during the next twenty-five years. Bryden, who became principal of Knox College in 1945, was profoundly influenced by Karl Barth, and sent his students, including Arthur C. Cochrane, who would later teach at the Presbyterian seminary in Dubuque, Iowa, to study with Barth in Europe.23

80   bradley j. longfield

Mid-Twentieth-Century Presbyterianism Presbyterians in the United States and Canada in the mid-twentieth century were deeply influenced by the advent of a new theological movement dubbed neo-orthodoxy, most closely associated with Barth, and by the rise of neo-evangelicalism, most closely associated with Billy Graham. Growing ecumenical sentiments led to efforts at cooperation and conversations about denominational union among some, while many promoted liturgical renewal, and church membership boomed after World War II. By the 1960s, issues of race, gender, and theology had created tension in many Presbyterian denominations, leading eventually to schisms, as many began to experience significant membership decline. The two largest Presbyterian denominations in the United States, the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) and the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), were, like the Presbyterian Church in Canada (PCC), profoundly influenced by new theological currents in the 1930s and 1940s. The stock market crash in 1929 and the ensuing depression, the rise of fascism in Europe, and the advent of World War II, chastened many liberals and encouraged a turn toward neo-orthodoxy with its stronger doctrine of sin and emphasis on the transcendence and sovereignty of God. By the 1940s, the theological seminaries of the PCUSA were reflecting this theological change. Elmer Homrighausen, who began translating Barth’s work and writing articles about Barth’s theology in the 1930s, joined the faculty of Princeton Seminary in 1938. In 1936, he published Christianity in America, a neo-orthodox critique of both fundamentalism and liberalism. Likewise, Joseph Haroutunian, a church historian at McCormick Seminary in Chicago, criticized the accommodation of liberal theology to culture and called for a renewed emphasis on the sinfulness of humanity, justification by faith, and the glory of God. Neo-orthodoxy found its way into PCUSA congregations through sermons and church schools. By the late 1940s, many pastors, following the theological trends of the time, were stressing the sovereignty of God and the sinfulness of humanity in the pulpit. Likewise, in 1948, the communion launched a new Sunday school curriculum, Christian Faith and Life, that has been described as “Neo-Orthodoxy Goes to Sunday School.”24 The new curriculum, which focused on Jesus Christ, the Bible, and the church, sold well inside and outside the denomination, providing significant revenue, but it was not well received in all quarters. Some conservatives criticized its “strong Barthian flavor” and higher critical views. On the other end of the spectrum, some liberals questioned whether the church curriculum should speak only with a neo-orthodox voice.25 Christian Faith and Life was not, however, the only option available to congregations of the PCUSA; through Henrietta Mears, neo-evangelicalism offered an alternative curriculum for those of a more traditional bent. Mears, the longtime director of Christian education at First Presbyterian Church, in Hollywood, California, founded Gospel

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   81 Light Publications in 1933 to produce her “Bible-based, Christ-centered” curriculum, which had a strong conversionist emphasis. In the first year of publication, 131 churches in twenty-five states ordered the material, and by 1940, it was used by two thousand congregations. By mid-century, Gospel Light had become a leading player in the evangelical publishing world and a significant competitor to denominational presses.26 The Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARPC), like the United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA), had historically been a Psalm-singing denomination, and by the mid-twentieth century, the proposed use of hymns in worship had led to extended conflict. Many worried that unless the church allowed the use of hymns and Psalms in worship, congregations and members would migrate to the PCUS. In 1946, in a close vote, the church agreed to use both Psalms and hymns, and began using the Psalter-Hymnal of the UPCNA. At the same time, union talks with both the UPCNA, which cooperated with the ARPC in foreign missions, and the PCUS were initiated. Significant numbers of clergy and laity in the ARPC were concerned about the perceived liberalism of the UPCNA and the PCUS, manifest in these denominations’ membership in the World Council of Churches (WCC) and the National Council of Churches of Christ (NCCC), and the union efforts were defeated, in 1951. Many members and clergy who had supported union left the ARPC for the PCUS.27 Hard on the cessation of hostilities in World War II, the PCUSA published another revision of the Book of Common Worship, which was influenced by the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer. The 1946 General Assembly, instead of simply recommending the new resource for voluntary use, declared it an official publication of the General Assembly, and in 1948, the PCUS General Assembly adopted the revised work for voluntary use in its congregations. Growing sentiment among Reformed bodies in favor of cooperation in the realm of worship was manifest in the joint publication of the Hymnbook in 1956 by the PCUSA, PCUS, UPCNA, ARPC, and the Reformed Church in America.28 As the Cold War intensified in the 1950s, anticommunist hysteria gripped the United States, manifest most notably in the anticommunist crusade of Wisconsin senator Joseph McCarthy. In 1953, John Mackay, president of Princeton Seminary and moderator of the General Assembly of the PCUSA, was accused by McCarthy’s Subcommittee on Investigations of collaborating with communists. Mackay and the General Council of the PCUSA responded vigorously in the New York Times, claiming that the “menace of Communism” needed to be opposed, but that American freedoms were also imperiled by inquisitorial congressional committees.29 In the PCUS, change came more slowly than in the North, but it did come. In the 1930s, conservatives continued to oppose social and theological progressivism, fearing that the denomination could follow the PCUSA and embrace tolerance of theological liberalism. Despite this opposition, by the 1940s, the historical-critical method had become more widely accepted in PCUS seminaries. John Bright joined the faculty of Union Seminary in Virginia in 1940, bringing a relatively conservative historical-critical perspective, and in 1946, Union inaugurated the journal Interpretation: A Theological and Biblical Quarterly, which promoted biblical theology with a neo-orthodox cast. Other scholars influenced by the neo-orthodox movement included James I. McCord at

82   bradley j. longfield Austin Seminary and Kenneth Foreman at Louisville Seminary. These trends accelerated in the 1950s and, given the prominence of social concern in neo-orthodox theology, led in some quarters to a sustained attack on the southern Presbyterian doctrine of the “spirituality of the church.”30 Not everyone in the PCUS was enthusiastic about the new theological developments. The northern and southern Presbyterian denominations had considered reunion at various times since their division in the nineteenth century. In 1937, reunion was again proposed. Conservatives in the PCUS, convinced that the PCUSA was theologically suspect—as the “Auburn Affirmation” and the defrocking of J. Gresham Machen had revealed—and wary of its social positions, particularly those on race, stridently opposed these moves. In the 1950s, the UPCNA joined the conversation, but when a plan was finally proposed in 1954, the PCUS defeated it.31 After the fundamentalist-modernist controversy in the PCUSA, conservatives regrouped and built new structures to proclaim the faith. Clarence Macartney, a longtime ally of Machen and the pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh from 1927 to 1953, published and spoke widely and nurtured a number of assistant pastors who would become conservative leaders of the next generation. One Macartney protégé, Harold  J.  Ockenga, became the first president of Fuller Theological Seminary, in Pasadena, California, in 1947, which was founded to carry on the tradition of the “old Princeton,” as it had existed before the battles of the 1920s. Ockenga sought to steer a course between fundamentalism and liberalism and found himself attacked by both conservatives and liberals for his efforts. In time, however, Fuller Seminary became a center of the “new evangelicalism” and a major educational center for those entering the Presbyterian ministry.32 Many American Presbyterians in the 1930s adopted an antiwar stance, but as tension mounted in Europe and the Far East and war broke out, some prominent leaders began to question that sentiment, which led to tensions in the PCUSA and the PCUS. When the United States entered World War II in 1941, almost all Presbyterians supported the effort to defeat the Axis powers. The PCUSA and PCUS worked together in ministry to soldiers, and this, along with wider ecumenical efforts, helped to break down denominational boundaries and pave the way for greater cooperation in the future.33 The Cumberland Presbyterian Church (CPC) remained overwhelmingly conservative in this era. In the 1940s, church leaders, worried about modernism at its school, Bethel College, opted not to join in the planning for the WCC, formed in 1948. The communion also refused to join the NCCC when it was founded in 1950, though some of the denomination’s agencies were connected to offices of the NCCC. In the 1950s, even this modest affiliation led to strife among conservatives, who wanted to have no connections with the NCCC. Indeed, by the mid-1950s, numerous congregations had left the denomination over this issue.34 In time, the CPC manifested a greater openness to cooperate with other communions. It joined the World Presbyterian Alliance in 1956 and assisted the PCUS in the 1950s in the development of the Covenant Life Curriculum, which the Cumberland Church officially adopted in 1962. Later in the decade, the CPC joined with the United Presbyterian

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   83 Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA; formed by the merger of the PCUSA and UPCNA in 1958) and the PCUS in the production of worship resources, such as The Worshipbook. The CPC, which was primarily a southern denomination, moved to desegregate its schools in the 1950s and 1960s, but the process was slow and halting. As with other Presbyterian denominations, the Cumberland Church experienced considerable growth in the 1950s, adding over eight thousand members, for a total membership over eighty-eight thousand in 1960. The 1960s brought a reversal of fortune, however, as membership began to decline.35 Canada entered World War II before the United States, and many Canadian Presbyterian laity and ministers quickly volunteered for service. Arthur Cochrane, who had studied in Germany and graduated from the University of Edinburgh in 1937, published The Church and the War in 1940 while serving as a pastor in Canada. Cochrane argued that for Christians, loyalty to the king and the British Empire was an insufficient reason to support the war, and claimed instead, that Christ, as testified to in Scripture, commanded the church to oppose Adolf Hitler’s regime.36 After World War II, to combat the perceived threats of communism and Catholicism, the PCUSA and the PCUS launched major evangelistic efforts to make Protestant Christianity, particularly of a Presbyterian stripe, a uniting force in the nation. The Canadian-born Charles Templeton, after studying at Princeton Seminary, was ordained in the PCUSA and became an evangelist for the NCCC and then evangelism secretary for the PCUSA, which started scores of new congregations every year in the early 1950s. In the South, evangelist Billy Graham, the son-in-law of the noted PCUS missionary L.  Nelson Bell, became a major hero and model for many Presbyterians. Some Southerners, however, resented Graham’s racially integrated revivals. In the North, despite criticism from the prominent ethicist Reinhold Niebuhr for its conservative theological message, Graham’s ministry was defended by both Henry P. Van Dusen, president of Union Seminary, New York, and Elmer Homrighausen, the dean of Princeton Seminary. Both the PCUSA and the PCUS grew in the postwar years, so that by 1960 the UPCUSA claimed over 3.2 million members and the PCUS had about nine hundred thousand members.37 Many in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC), which understood itself in selfconscious opposition to the PCUSA, continued to hope that its conservatives would leave to join the OPC. Thus, when the UPCNA began serious merger talks with the PCUSA in the 1950s, the OPC took notice. Members of the OPC publicly warned the UPCNA that the PCUSA was theologically liberal and that its bureaucrats refused to tolerate dissenting voices. Notwithstanding some opposition to union among conservatives in the UPCNA, the warnings of the OPC went largely unheeded and the two denominations merged in 1958.38 Presbyterian efforts to help rebuild war-ravaged nations after World War II were often coordinated by the International Missionary Council, chaired from 1947 to 1958 by John Mackay, president of Princeton Seminary. With the creation of the UPCUSA, the Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations was established, and missionaries adopted the title “fraternal workers.” This signaled a change from a “sending” and

84   bradley j. longfield “receiving” model of missions to one of ecumenical partnership. Nonetheless, many Presbyterians remained committed to a more traditional evangelistic model of mission and supported nondenominational mission organizations. The changes coincided with a steady decline in the numbers of both UPCUSA and PCUS missionaries. Missionaries from the UPCUSA peaked at 1,356 in 1959, and from the PCUS at 569 in 1964.39 Presbyterians actively participated in founding the WCC in 1948 and the NCCC in 1950. Eugene Carson Blake, who held the office of Stated Clerk of the General Assembly of the UPCUSA, was elected general secretary of the WCC in 1966. The World Council’s Uppsala report in 1968, which essentially ignored personal evangelism, drew the ire of evangelicals, and the World Council’s efforts to address political and social issues drew criticism from social conservatives. By the late twentieth century, ecumenical and evangelical agencies were moving closer together on the importance of social justice and personal conversion, though significant theological tensions remained.40 In 1956, the OPC, which had significant Dutch-American leadership, entered into union talks with the Christian Reformed Church in North America, a Dutch Reformed communion founded in 1857. The conversations continued for almost two decades, but no agreement was reached. By 1961, the OPC had grown to just over eleven thousand members. Hewing fast to conservative orthodoxy, it refused to ordain women, and for decades, its members attacked the Barthian neo-orthodoxy of the larger Presbyterian denominations. Things came to a head in 1967, when the UPCUSA adopted the Book of Confessions, which included many Reformation-era confessions, as well as the Barmen Declaration and a new neo-orthodox confession, the Confession of 1967. The OPC strongly encouraged conservatives in the UPCUSA to leave it for the OPC, given the neo-orthodox cast of the proposed Confession of 1967. In 1967, the OPC General Assembly adopted a statement claiming that the new confession of the UPCUSA eliminated “any confessional foundation for the life and witness of the church.”41 In the mid-1950s, as churches were experiencing a postwar surge in membership, the attention of the PCUSA General Assembly again turned to worship, leading to the adoption of a new Directory for Worship in 1961. The PCUS published its own Directory for Worship and Work in 1963. Representatives of the UPCUSA, the PCUS, and the Cumberland Presbyterian Church worked together to create a new book of common worship, which was published in 1970 as The Worshipbook. It reflected the neo-orthodox theology of the Confession of 1967 but, almost immediately, became outdated because of its male-dominated language and the rise of feminist theology. In the 1950s, the Presbyterian Church in Canada (PCC) also decided to revise its Book of Common Order. Although considerable conflict arose among Presbyterians in Canada over proposals to make weekly communion the “norm of worship,” a new Book of Common Order was approved in 1964.42 In this era, the theology of Karl Barth, particularly as translated by Walter Bryden, gained increasing prominence in the PCC. By 1950, most of the faculty at both Knox College in Toronto and Presbyterian College in Montreal had studied under Bryden. Nevertheless, a significant party of confessional conservatives remained, led by W.  Stanford Reid, a native Canadian who had studied under J.  Gresham Machen at

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   85 Westminster Seminary in Philadelphia and taught for many years at McGill University and the University of Guelph. But confessional conservatives remained outside the corridors of power in the church. Reid was considered for positions at Presbyterian College and at Knox College, but despite his prominence, he was denied both times.43 The PCC flourished in the 1950s. From 1949 to 1959, the denomination’s annual income increased from $4.8 million to $11.3 million. Concurrently, the church planted over a hundred new congregations. While, as in the United States, the PCC also saw communism and Catholicism as twin threats to Protestant influence, Barthians and confessional conservatives in the Canadian church emphasized different aspects of evangelism in the 1950s. The majority, committed to Barthian neo-orthodoxy as articulated in 1955 in “The Declaration of Faith concerning Church and Nation,” claimed that the church “promotes righteousness and peace among men” through evangelism; but conservatives, who adopted the moniker “evangelical” in this period, continued to stress individual conversion. Despite these differences, by 1965 the PCC had grown to 202,000 members.44 In the mid-twentieth century, the ordination of women again came to the fore in many Presbyterian communions. The PCUSA finally voted to permit the ordination of women as clergy in 1956; the PCUS approved the ordination of women to all ecclesial offices in 1962; and the PCC approved women’s ordination in 1966. Although there was no immediate rush of women seeking ordination, by the 1970s many Presbyterian seminaries were seeing a significant rise in the number of women in their student bodies.45 Although the OPC leaders complained about the ascendancy of neo-orthodoxy in the UPCUSA, many UPCUSA members were opposed to the proposed confessional changes. In 1965, conservative Presbyterians, funded by J. Howard Pew, retired president of the Sun Oil Company, founded the Presbyterian Lay Committee to oppose the proposed Confession of 1967, particularly its view of Scripture and stance on social issues and politics. Pew, who saw conservative theology as a bulwark against socialism and communism, had long supported evangelical causes, such as Fuller Theological Seminary and the periodical Christianity Today. In the wake of the overwhelming approval of the Book of Confessions, the Lay Committee launched a new publication, the Presbyterian Layman, to oppose liberal social policies in the church and ecumenical agencies.46 Few members of the UPCUSA joined the OPC after their denomination adopted the Book of Confessions and the Confession of 1967. By 1967, however, the threat of division in the PCUS was increasing. In the 1960s, its Board of Christian Education published two major series, The Layman’s Bible Commentary and the Covenant Life Curriculum, both of which moved away from confessional orthodoxy toward neo-orthodoxy. Notably, Christian Doctrine, a 1968 book written by Columbia Seminary professor Shirley Guthrie, clearly demonstrated this neo-orthodox turn and frustrated confessional conservatives.47 Doctrine was not the only issue tearing at the PCUS. In the face of Nazi racism and anti-Semitism, the General Assemblies of the PCUS and PCUSA had denounced racism in America and called for combating social injustice. In the mid-1950s, the PCUS General Assembly stated its opposition to legally enforced segregation. Progressive and neo-orthodox clergy supported this view, as did some conservatives, such as L. Nelson

86   bradley j. longfield Bell. Bell opposed forced desegregation, but he drew the ire of strict segregationists for his opposition to Jim Crow laws. In the 1960s, some southern Presbyterian clergy lent support to sit-ins protesting segregation, and in 1964, the PCUS General Assembly acted to abolish segregated presbyteries, which took years to complete. Those in the PCUS who continued to argue for the doctrine of the spirituality of the church saw their denomination’s increasing involvement with the civil rights movement as yet another sign that it was abandoning its heritage.48 Conservatives in the PCUS organized to combat the progressive trends in theology and social action, but they had minimal impact on policies of the General Assembly. In 1966, for example, the PCUS Assembly voted to join the Consultation on Church Union. The consultation had been launched by Eugene Carson Blake in 1960, when he had proposed a church union of, at least, the UPCUSA, the Episcopal Church, Methodist Church, and United Church of Christ. As the proponents of the United Church of Canada had done forty years earlier, Blake argued that such a union could combat the growing secularism of the culture. But as with the opponents of the United Church of Canada, many conservative members of the PCUS wondered why a Reformed Church would want to merge with non-Reformed bodies. Despite the opposition of conservatives, the PCUS voted repeatedly to continue in Consultation on Church Union conversations.49 In the 1950s, conservative members of the PCUS encouraged graduates of Westminster Seminary in Philadelphia to serve its congregations. But by 1963, many conservatives, convinced that none of the seminaries connected to the PCUS were doctrinally sound, began making plans to establish a new seminary that would be committed to the inerrancy of Scripture, the Westminster Confession, and the spirituality of the church. In 1966, Reformed Theological Seminary, supported by significant gifts from individuals and congregations, opened its doors in Jackson, Mississippi.50 In 1969, as the PCUS General Assembly voted to reopen conversations with the UPCUSA about reunion, a number of ministers formed Presbyterian Churchmen United to pursue any path necessary to “maintain our Presbyterian faith.” Soon thereafter, another less separatist group of conservatives formed the Covenant Fellowship of Presbyterians. In 1971, conservatives announced that the Executive Committee on Overseas Evangelism would begin sending missionaries abroad as an alternative to the PCUS Board of World Missions, a move that echoed Machen’s formation of the Independent Board of Presbyterian Foreign Missions in 1933. With a conservative seminary and mission agency in place and increasing frustration with the direction of the denomination, separatist sentiment grew, despite strong and vocal opposition from some conservative leaders.51 As conversations about reunion between the UPCUSA and the PCUS moved forward, conservative leaders who favored separating from the PCUS continued their planning. The efforts bore fruit in 1973, when the first General Assembly of the National Presbyterian Church, soon renamed the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), was called into session. The new church was committed to the inerrancy of Scripture, the Westminster Confession, and the spirituality of the church. Issues surrounding race, though not the defining factor in the division, had clearly contributed to the movement to create the PCA.52

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   87 The General Assembly of the PCA, lacking a fully developed support system, r­ ecommended using Sunday school curriculum the OPC had developed in the 1950s. This curriculum was rooted in the theology of Geerhardus Vos and John Murray, who taught respectively at Princeton Seminary and Westminster Seminary. The curriculum sought to ground students in the theology of the Westminster Confession and a strongly Christocentric biblical theology. In the 1960s, the OPC expanded its curricular offerings, and by the 1970s was selling the curriculum to congregations of the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America, the Christian Reformed Church in North America, and the PCUS. The addition of the PCA to the subscription list in 1973 encouraged the OPC in its efforts, and in 1975 the OPC and PCA launched a joint curriculum venture called Great Commission Publications.53 The Civil Rights movement had a significant impact on the ARPC in the 1960s. In 1964, the Synod argued that it was not wise to “endorse or approve integration of the races in its churches or institutions.” When its denominational school, Erskine College, was required, in 1965, to adopt a nondiscrimination policy or lose its eligibility for federal funds, many in the denomination who opposed to federal interference and racial integration counseled against compliance, but the Board of Trustees chose to integrate the school.54 Issues of race and racial discrimination also caused controversy in the UPCUSA in this era. In 1957, Eugene Carson Blake endorsed President Dwight Eisenhower’s enforced desegregation of schools in Little Rock, Arkansas. This led some conservative southern Presbyterians to question whether Blake had communist sympathies, and in 1963, Blake was arrested in a desegregation march in Maryland. Most significantly, in 1971 the Council on Church and Race of the UPCUSA gave $10,000 to the legal defense fund of Angela Davis, an African American and outspoken communist. A long controversy ensued about the propriety of this grant. Many members of the UPCUSA wondered why money was used to support someone whose commitments opposed Christianity; others were concerned about the process that had led to the decision. But race was also an issue in the conflict, and significant numbers in the denomination worried about the increasing racial tension the controversy had produced.55 On another front, disagreement about the role of women in the church also led to conflict in the 1970s. When the PCUSA and the UPCNA united in 1958, the new communion, the UPCUSA, agreed to the propriety of the ordination of women, but did not mandate that all congregations have some women elders. In 1974, Walter Wynn Kenyon, a student at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, told his presbytery of care that he could not in good conscience participate in the ordination of women, but would not oppose them and would work with women elders and clergy. Though Kenyon was ordained by the Presbytery of Pittsburgh, the Permanent Judicial Commission of the General Assembly in 1975 overturned his ordination and ruled that no one who opposed the ordination of women could be ordained. In 1979, the General Assembly ruled that all congregations had to elect women as ruling elders or demonstrate that they were making efforts to do so.56 Not long after this dispute, National Capital Presbytery of the UPCUSA received a minister from the United Church of Christ, Mansfield Kaseman, who, while avowing

88   bradley j. longfield that Christ was one with God, could not affirm that Christ was God. This position was appealed to the Permanent Judicial Commission of the General Assembly, which ruled, in 1981, that Kaseman’s beliefs were acceptable under the constitution, and also affirmed the denomination’s belief in the full deity of Christ.57 The Kenyon and Kaseman cases led some conservatives in the UPCUSA to conclude that it was no longer a suitable denominational home, and in 1981, seventy-five ministers and twelve congregations left to form the Evangelical Presbyterian Church. Open to the ordination of women and charismatic gifts, the denomination adopted the Westminster Confession as a statement of faith and a list of “essential” tenets. The new communion enjoyed significant growth in the coming decades. By the turn of the twenty-first century, it had about seventy thousand members, and by 2016, having received many congregations that had left the Presbyterian Church (USA) (PC(USA)), (the name of the new denomination created by the 1983 merger of the UPCUSA and the PCUS), often in response to its policy on homosexuality, counted some 171,000 members.58 In the late 1970s, the ARPC struggled over issues of biblical inerrancy. In 1977 the Synod adopted an overture that required faculty at Erskine Seminary, the ARPC’s seminary, to affirm and teach the Bible as “the inerrant Word of God.” The faculty responded with an extensive statement declaring their acceptance of the Westminster Confession and affirming the Scriptures as “the supreme authority for faith and life.” This position, which stopped short of affirming inerrancy, was unacceptable to many in the denomination. Differences between graduates of the Reformed and Erskine Seminaries seemed to aggravate the tensions, and by 1978, presbyteries were requesting a censure of Erskine faculty for it lax doctrine of biblical authority. A year later, the Synod adopted a statement claiming the Bible “to be without error in all it teaches.” Not everyone thought this was a robust enough commitment to inerrancy, and some congregations left the ARPC in response.59

Late Twentieth- and Early Twenty-First Century Presbyterianism In the United States, Presbyterians in the late twentieth and early twenty-first centuries continued to fracture into various smaller denominations. Conflicts surrounding the ordination and marriage of homosexuals and feminist theology contributed to the fissures. Although the two largest denominations reunited in 1983, they continued to lose congregations to more conservative bodies and members to more theologically conservative congregations or to no congregation at all, which contributed to a massive membership decline in this period. In Canada, Presbyterians likewise tried to find a coherent theological voice and experienced a significant decrease in membership.

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   89 By the mid-1970s, a substantial decline in membership had started to afflict the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA). From over 3.3  million members in 1965, membership dropped to less than 2.7 million in 1975, a decline of almost 20 percent. In the midst of this, and while union talks were still continuing with the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), the UPCUSA General Assembly was asked by New York Presbytery to give guidance on the propriety of ordination of an “avowed homosexual.” In 1978, the General Assembly ruled that “unrepentant homosexual practice” prohibited ordination. The PCUS adopted a similar policy in 1979. These declarations, however, did not end the discussion, which continued for over thirty years.60 By the early 1980s, plans for reunion between the UPCUSA and PCUS were swiftly moving forward. The Joint Committee on Presbyterian Union argued that reunion reflected God’s will and would promote evangelism, efficiency, effectiveness, and inclusiveness. Not everyone North and South supported reunion, but in 1982 both General Assemblies overwhelmingly approved reunion; during the next year, presbyteries followed suit. In June 1983, the churches united at a General Assembly in Atlanta, taking the name Presbyterian Church (USA) (PC(USA)), with a combined membership of 3.1 million.61 In 1980, the UPCUSA General Assembly approved an overture to plan a new book of worship to promote renewal. It was joined in this work by the PCUS and Cumberland Presbyterian Church (CPC). With the reunion of the UPCUSA and the PCUS in 1983, a new Directory for Worship and new liturgical resources were prepared concurrently, resulting in the adoption of the Book of Common Worship in 1993. Seeking to be “fully Reformed and truly catholic,” the work used inclusive language about God and the people of God throughout.62 The two largest Presbyterian denominations were not the only communions considering union in the 1970s and 1980s. In the 1970s, the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) had engaged in unsuccessful merger talks with the Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod, a church with roots in the OPC. Then in the late 1970s, the OPC, Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), and Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod held merger talks, which resulted in the PCA and the Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod uniting in 1982 under the PCA name. Despite the PCA’s rejection of union with the OPC, negotiations were reignited in 1984, but by 1986 had failed again. When the denominations did not unite, some congregations in the OPC decided that a more acceptable home lay elsewhere, and in the coming years various OPC congregations left to join the PCA or the Evangelical Presbyterian Church.63 In the early 1970s, some former United Presbyterian Church North America (UPCNA) congregations, as well as some PCUS congregations that feared a merger with the UPCUSA, transferred to the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARPC), boosting its membership. Beginning in the late 1970s, however, the ARPC began losing congregations that were concerned about a loose doctrine of biblical inerrancy in the denomination to the PCA, which created tension between the ARPC and the PCA.64

90   bradley j. longfield In the 1980s, members of the OPC skirmished over women’s ordination and leadership and concluded that the ordination of women as pastors or elders had no biblical justification. At the same time, the PC(USA) was engaging in extensive and heated conversations about the ordination of “self-affirming, practicing homosexual persons.” In 1997, it adopted a “fidelity and chastity” amendment to the constitution that required ordained leaders to “live either in fidelity within the covenant of marriage between a man and a woman . . . or [in] chastity in singleness.” Nevertheless, controversy continued, and in 2001, in a move harking back to the PCUSA’s Special Commission of 1925, which had provided some resolution to the fundamentalist-modernist conflict, the PC(USA) General Assembly formed a Peace, Unity, and Purity Task Force to study the issue and submit recommendations to the denomination. Its report looked back to the Adopting Act of 1729 and suggested that candidates for ordination could scruple aspects of the church’s standards, and the ordaining presbytery would decide whether the candidate satisfied the requirements for ordination. The recommendation was adopted by the 2006 General Assembly, clearing the way for ordination of homosexuals. In 2011, the PC(USA) removed the “fidelity and chastity” amendment from the constitution, and in 2015 approved same-sex marriage.65 By the late twentieth century the neo-orthodox consensus that had, for a while, provided the predecessor denominations of the PC(USA) with some theological cohesion had dissolved, and the resultant theological pluralism created significant tension. In 1993 an ecumenical “RE-Imagining” conference, sponsored and staffed, in part, by the PC(USA), addressed the more radical aspects of feminist theology, such as the naming and understanding of God and the atonement of Christ, and produced a major uproar. In response, the 1994 General Assembly declared, “Theology matters”, and reaffirmed Trinitarian theology, the salvific work of Christ, and the authority of Scripture.66 The numbers of missionaries the PC(USA) was sending to other countries had declined to 250 by 2007, but the numbers of Presbyterians serving internationally also included many Presbyterians working in parachurch organizations, such as World Vision, Frontiers, and Heifer Project International. By the early twenty-first century, the dramatically smaller church membership was providing significantly less support for international mission than the predecessor denominations had given in the mid-twentieth century.67 While American Presbyterians were mending the divisions of the mid-nineteenth century and struggling over issues of theology and sexual ethics, Canadian Presbyterians were engaged in their own struggles. The Presbyterian Church in Canada (PCC) had started discussions about the ordination of women as ministers and elders in 1953, and it wrestled with the issue until women’s ordination was approved in 1966. Though Barthianism, filtered through Walter Bryden, continued as the dominant voice in the church, it was not the sole voice. In the 1960s, evangelicals banded together in the Evangelical Fellowship of Canada. Presbyterians dominated this organization; three of the first five presidents were Presbyterians.68 Canadian Presbyterians struggled to attain a unified theological voice and purpose amid the social unrest in the 1960s, and disagreed about the need for contemporary

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   91 revisions of the church’s confession and worship. Even so, the denomination’s approval of the Christian Faith and Life curriculum of the UPCUSA in 1960 and the Covenant Life curriculum of the PCUS in 1967 revealed the communion’s continuing predilection for neo-orthodoxy over confessional conservatism or liberalism. Loss of membership, decline in ministerial candidates, decreasing church plants, fewer numbers of missionaries, and reduced influence all plagued the PCC in these years.69 During the 1960s the General Assembly of the PCC became much more vocal on social issues, including divorce, unemployment, contraception, pornography, interracial marriage, and abortion. By the 1970s, as in mainline churches in the United States, numerical decline had become a persistent and troubling issue. By 1971, membership had dropped to 183,000. The PCC had the oldest membership and lowest fertility rate of all Canadian mainline communions. Church-school attendance plummeted from 112,000 to 38,000 from 1960 to 1985.70 As with the PC(USA), the PCC debated over sexuality in the new millennium. In 2015, the church published an expansive study guide on homosexuality, and in 2016, the General Assembly referred a number of overtures addressing human sexuality to the Committee on Church Doctrine.71 Evangelicals’ frustration with the theological direction of the PC(USA), particularly the acceptance of ordination of noncelibate homosexuals, resulted in the formation of ECO: A Covenant Order of Evangelical Presbyterians (ECO), in 2012. The new communion adopted a list of essential tenets that addressed biblical authority, the Trinity, Christology, and Reformed distinctives and affirmed the 2012 version of the PC(USA) Book of Confessions as faithful witnesses to the Gospel. Like the PC(USA), ECO affirms the ordination of women, but in opposition to the PC(USA), it affirms only “marriage between a man and a woman” and does not ordain noncelibate homosexuals. In 2018, the denomination had a membership of about 127,000.72 In the early twenty-first century, Presbyterians in the United States and Canada are seeking ways to minister faithfully in secular and pluralistic cultures. In significant ways, Presbyterians in both nations continue to struggle with issues that tore at the fabric of the church in the fundamentalist-modernist conflict: the authority and interpretation of Scripture, the role of the Reformed confessions, the importance of doctrine, ecclesiology, and the appropriate stance of the church vis-à-vis the culture. Although neo-orthodoxy provided some theological cohesion to the many Presbyterian communions in the midtwentieth century, this cohesion tended to break down during the cultural crises of the 1960s, resulting in greater theological pluralism, extensive conflict, and repeated realignments through divisions and unions. Both liberals and conservatives in the various Presbyterian denominations have been profoundly influenced by the culture in diverse ways. This is true, not just in their theology and worship, but in their stewardship of time and resources; practices of piety; and understandings of family, gender, race, ethnicity, education, mission, and vocation. This affects the identity of these communions as they seek to be faithful disciples of Christ in a distinctively Presbyterian way.

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Notes 1. Bradley  J.  Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 2–7, 108–110, 56–57; James  E.  McGoldrick, Presbyterian and Reformed Churches: A Global History (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage, 2012), 267–268; and Robert T. Handy, A History of the Churches in the United States and Canada (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1976), 347. 2. Archibald A. Hodge and Benjamin B. Warfield, “Inspiration,” in The Princeton Theology: 1812–1921, ed. Mark A. Noll (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1983), 229. 3. See Bradley J. Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 15–16, 19–25. 4. Ben Barrus, Milton Baughn, and Thomas Campbell, A People Called Cumberland Presbyterians (Memphis, TN: Frontier Press, 1972), 3, 354, 368, 370, 360–368. 5. Barrus, Baughn, and Campbell, Cumberland Presbyterians, 406, 418–419, 451, 430. 6. Wallace  N.  Jamieson, The United Presbyterian Story: A Centennial Study, 1858–1958 (Pittsburgh, PA: Geneva Press, 1958), 25–26, 53, 61, 64–68; and Lowry Ware and James Gettys, The Second Century: A History of the Associate Reformed Presbyterians, 1882–1982 (Greenville, SC: Associate Reformed Presbyterian Center, 1983), 98, 104. 7. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 141. 8. Ronald Byars, “Challenging the Ethos: A History of Presbyterian Worship Resources in the Twentieth Century,” in The Confessional Mosaic: Presbyterians and Twentieth-Century Theology, ed. Milton  J  Coalter, John  M.  Mulder, and Louis  B.  Weeks (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1990), 135, 137; and John Webster Grant, The Church in the Canadian Era (Burlington, ON: Welch, 1988), 133. 9. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 142. 10. Jamieson, United Presbyterian Story, 189, 65–68, 108, 114–116. 11. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 153–154, 156–158. 12. Longfield, 157. 13. Longfield, 158–163. 14. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 212; Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 163; D.  G.  Hart and John  R.  Muether, Seeking a Better Country: 300 Years of American Presbyterianism (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007), 203; and Edwin H. Rian, The Presbyterian Conflict (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1940), 229. 15. Jamieson, United Presbyterian Story, 142, 216; Thomas M. Gilliland Jr., Truth and Love: The United Presbyterian Church of North America (n.p.: United Presbyterian Conservancy, 2008), 139–142. 16. Ernest Trice Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, 3 vols. (Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1973), 3:220, 225–236. 17. Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, 3:307–315, 323; Sean Michael Lucas, For a Continuing Church: The Roots of the Presbyterian Church in America (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2015). 18. Handy, United States and Canada, 347–348, 361–362. 19. N.  Keith Clifford, The Resistance to Church Union in Canada: 1904–1939 (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1985), 238–239; Brian J. Fraser, Church, College, and Clergy: A History of Theological Education at Knox College, Toronto, 1844–1994 (Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 1995), 132; Handy, United States and Canada, 366; and Robert A. Wright, “The Canadian Protestant Tradition, 1914–1945,” in

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   93 The Canadian Protestant Experience: 1760–1990, ed. George A. Rawlyk (Burlington, ON: Welch, 1990), 151. 20. Clifford, Church Union, 183, 37, 166; John  S.  Moir, Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada (Toronto: Bryant Press, 1974), 214–215; Wright, “Canadian Protestant Tradition,” in Rawlyk, Canadian Protestant Experience, 152; and Allan L. Farris, “The Fathers of 1925,” in Enkindled by the Word: Essays on Presbyterianism in Canada, ed. Centennial Committee of the Presbyterian Church in Canada (Toronto: Presbyterian Publications, 1966), 62. 21. Neil G. Smith, Allan L. Farris, and H. Keith Markell, A Short History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada (Toronto: Presbyterian Publications, 1966), 86; Farris, “Fathers,” 59; Clifford, Church Union, 2; Moir, Enduring Witness, 223; and Wright, “Canadian Protestant Tradition,” in Rawlyk, Canadian Protestant Experience, 154. 22. C.  T.  McIntire, “Unity among Many: The Formation of the United Church of Canada: 1899–1930,” in The United Church of Canada: A History, ed. Don Schweitzer (Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2012), 9; Fraser, Church, College, Clergy, 142–143, 148; Moir, Enduring Witness, 226; and Smith, Farris, and Markell, Short History, 99. 23. Clifford, Resistance to Church Union, 198; Fraser, Church, College, Clergy, 148–150, 162; Barry Mack, “From Preaching to Propaganda to Marginalization: The Lost Centre of Twentieth-Century Presbyterianism,” in Aspects of the Canadian Evangelical Experience, ed. G.  A.  Rawlyk (Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queens University Press, 1977), 149–150; John A. Vissers, “Recovering the Reformation Conception of Revelation: Walter Williamson Bryden and Post-Union Canadian Presbyterianism,” in The Burning Bush and a Few Acres of Snow: The Presbyterian Contribution to Canadian Life and Culture, ed. William Klempa (Ottawa, ON: Carleton University Press, 1994), 247. 24. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 165–166; John McClure, “Changes in the Authority, Method, and Message of Presbyterian (UPCUSA) Preaching in the Twentieth Century,” in Coalter, Mulder, and Weeks, Confessional Mosaic, 101–102; and William B.  Kennedy, “Neo-Orthodoxy Goes to Sunday School: The Christian Faith and Life Curriculum,” Journal of Presbyterian History 58 (Winter 1980): 326. 25. Kennedy, “Neo-Orthodoxy,” 350–353. 26. John S. Turner, “The Power Behind the Throne: Henrietta Mears and Post–World War II Evangelicalism,” Journal of Presbyterian History 83 (Fall–Winter 2005): 144; and Joel Carpenter, Revive Us Again: The Reawakening of American Fundamentalism (New York: Oxford University Press, 1997), 216. 27. Ware and Gettys, Second Century, 239, 245, 249, 252–253, 257, 259–262. 28. Byars, “Challenging the Ethos,” 139–141; Jamieson, United Presbyterian, 211. 29. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 176–177. 30. Lucas, Continuing Church, 85, 96, 98; Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, 3:497, 499; John M. Mulder and Lee A. Wyatt, “The Predicament of Pluralism: The Study of Theology in Presbyterian Seminaries since the 1920s,” in The Pluralistic Vision: Presbyterians and Mainstream Protestant Education and Leadership, ed. Milton J Coalter, John M. Mulder, and Louis B. Weeks (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992), 48–50. 31. Lucas, Continuing Church, 137, 140, 142, 146, 149–150, 153, 155, 160; and David M. Reimers, “The Race Problem and Presbyterian Union,” Church History 31, no. 2 (1962): 207, 209. 32. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 180–182. 33. Longfield, 169–171.

94   bradley j. longfield 34. Barrus, Cumberland Presbyterians, 457–458, 477–481. 35. Barrus, 481, 499, 482, 510–511, 508, 512. 36. Moir, Enduring Witness, 242; and The Papers of Arthur  C.  Cochrane (1909–2002), Charles C. Myers Library, University of Dubuque, accessed April 19, 2017, https://www. dbq.edu/media/Library/Collections/The-Papers-of-Arthur-C-Cochrane-(1909–2002).pdf and Arthur Cochrane, The Church and the War (Toronto: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1940). 37. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 178–179; Lucas, Continuing Church, 171–178; Association of Religion Data Archives, United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., www. thearda.com/Denoms/D_1419.asp accessed Jan. 7, 2019; Association of Religion Data Archives, Presbyterian Church in the United States, www.thearda.com/Denoms/D_917. asp accessed Jan. 7, 2019 38. D. G. Hart, Between the Times: The Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Transition, 1945–1990 (Willow Grove, PA: Committee for the Historian of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, 2011), 81, 83; and Jamison, United Presbyterian Story, 218. 39. Scott Sunquist and Caroline Becker, eds., A History of Presbyterian Missions: 1944–2007 (Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2008), 17–19, 37, 318n7; and William Hutchison, Errand to the World: American Protestant Thought and Foreign Missions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1987), 188. 40. Sunquist and Becker, Presbyterian Missions, 26, 30; Hutchison, Errand to the World, 188. 41. Hart, Between the Times, 141–142, 146,157, 49, 60, 86–89, 92–93, 96. 42. Byars, “Challenging the Ethos,” 142–145, 151–155; Grant, Canadian Era, 186; and Moir, Enduring Witness, 261. 43. Mack, “Preaching to Propaganda,” 150–151; A.  Donald MacLeod, W.  Stanford Reid: An Evangelical Calvinist in the Academy (Montreal and Kingston: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2004), 4–8, 108–111; Moir, Enduring Witness, 253; and Fraser, Church, College, Clergy, 171, 247n11. 44. John  G.  Stackhouse Jr., “The Protestant Experience in Canada since 1945,” in Rawlyk, Canadian Protestant Experience, 201–202, 204; Moir, Enduring Witness, 265, 257; MacLeod, W. Stanford Reid, 144–145; and Fraser, Church, College, Clergy, 175. 45. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 183; Moir, Enduring Witness, 264. 46. Lewis C. Daly, A Moment to Decide: The Crisis in Mainstream Presbyterianism (New York: Institute for Democracy Studies, 2000), 12–13, 20–21; and Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 181. 47. Lucas, Continuing Church, 225–231. 48. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 171, 192, 194–195. 49. Longfield, 190–191; Lucas, Continuing Church, 256; and Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, 3:580. 50. Lucas, Continuing Church, 259, 263–265. 51. Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, 3:581; and Lucas, Continuing Church, 269, 272, 277, 290–291. 52. Lucas, Continuing Church, 304, 311; and Rick Nutt, “The Tie That No Longer Binds: The Origins of the Presbyterian Church in America,” in Coalter, Mulder, and Weeks, Confessional Mosaic, 236, 245–254. 53. Lucas, Continuing Church, 306; Hart, Between the Times, 174, 180, 214–215, 219. 54. Ware and Gettys, Second Century, 359–361.

presbyterianism in the united states and canada   95 55. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 194–195; and R.  Douglas Brackenridge, Eugene Carson Blake: Prophet with Portfolio (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), 92–93. 56. Hart and Muether, Better Country, 239. 57. Hart and Muether, 240. 58. Hart and Muether, 240–241; S.  Donald Fortson, The Presbyterian Story: Origins and Progress of a Reformed Tradition (Lenoir, NC: Presbyterian Lay Committee, 2013), 197–202; McGoldrick, Presbyterian and Reformed Churches, 355; “About the EPC, Office of the General Assembly of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church,” https://epc.org/about/ accessed March 28, 2017. 59. Ware and Gettys, Second Century, 301, 303, 306, 310, 315, 319, 321. 60. Hart, Better Country, 241–242; Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 197–198; Association of Religion Data Archives, United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., www.thearda.com/Denoms/D_1419.asp accessed Jan. 7, 2019; and S. Donald Fortson, “The Road to Gay Ordination in the Presbyterian Church (USA),” Christianity Today, May 12, 2011, accessed March 28, 2017, http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2011/mayweb-only/ gayordinationpcusa.html. 61. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 197–199; and Association of Religion Data Archives, Presbyterian Church (USA), http://www.thearda.com/Denoms/D_1477.asp accessed Jan. 7, 2019. 6 2. Book of Common Worship (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993), 5–6. 6 3. Hart, Between the Times, 231–232, 316–317; Lucas, Continuing Church, 326. 64. Ware and Gettys, Second Century, 453–454, 396–397. 6 5. Hart, Between the Times, 313–315; Fortson, Presbyterian Story, 196–197; and “Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Approves Marriage Amendment,” Presbyterian News Service, March 17, 2015, accessed April 19, 2017, https://www.pcusa.org/news/2015/3/17/presbyterian-churchus-approves-marriage-amendment/. 66. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 201; and “Minutes of the 206th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA), part 1” (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 1994), 87–88. 67. Sunquist and Becker, Presbyterian Missions, 37, 45, 56–57. 68. Moir, Enduring Witness, 264; John  G.  Stackhouse Jr., Canadian Evangelicalism in the Twentieth Century (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1993), 166; and Stackhouse, “Protestant Experience,” 216. 69. Moir, Enduring Witness, 261–267. 70. Moir, 271; Stackhouse, “Protestant Experience,” 212, 209, 220. 7 1. Emily  K.  Bisset, Body, Mind, and Soul: Thinking Together about Human Sexuality and Sexual Orientation in the Presbyterian Church in Canada (Toronto: Presbyterian Church in Canada, 2015); “General Assembly Briefing: Monday, June 6,” Presbyterian Church in Canada, June 6, 2016, accessed April 14, 2017, http://presbyterian.ca/2016/06/06/ general-assembly-briefing-monday-june-6/. 72. “ECO Constitution: Essential Tenets, Polity, and Rules of Discipline,” https://www.eco-pres. org/static/media/uploads/eco_constitution_online12.11.18.pdf accessed January 8, 2019; “Frequently Asked Questions, ECO: A Covenant Order of Evangelical Presbyterians,” https://www.eco-pres.org/who-we-are/our-story/ accessed January 8, 2019. and Fortson, Presbyterian Story, 202–203.

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Bibliography Barrus, Ben, Milton Baughn, and Thomas Campbell. A People Called Cumberland Presbyterians. Memphis, TN: Frontier Press, 1972. Hart, D. G. Between the Times: The Orthodox Presbyterian Church in Transition, 1945–1990. Willow Grove, PA: Committee for the Historian of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, 2011. Hart, D. G., and John Muether. Seeking a Better Country: 300 Years of American Presbyterianism. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007. Jamison, Wallace. The United Presbyterian Story: A Centennial Study, 1858–1958. Pittsburgh, PA: Geneva Press, 1958. Longfield, Bradley. The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Longfield, Bradley. Presbyterians and American Culture: A History. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Lucas, Sean Michael. For a Continuing Church: The Roots of the Presbyterian Church in America. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2015. Moir, John. Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Toronto: Bryant Press, 1974. Sunquist, Scott, and Caroline Becker. A History of Presbyterian Missions: 1944–2007. Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2008. Thompson, Ernest Trice. Presbyterians in the South. 3 vols. Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1963–1973. Ware, Lowry, and James Gettys. The Second Century: A History of the Associate Reformed Presbyterians, 1882–1982. Greenville, SC: Associate Reformed Presbyterian Center, 1983.

chapter 6

The Fu n da m en ta listModer n ist Con trov ersy Bradley J. Gundlach

Introduction One of the most momentous events in the history of American Christianity was the long trans-denominational contest between groups commonly called “fundamentalists” and “liberals”—though the enduring phrase substitutes “modernist” for “liberal.” Occurring from the 1910s through 1930s, the controversies peaked in the 1920s, a decade marked by cultural and political clashes between the old and the new. The 1925 Scopes “Monkey” Trial attracts popular attention as the center and symbol of the fundamentalist-modernist controversy—but church struggles, though entangled with the evolution question, involved far more. Of the many denominational battles of that decade, that within the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) was the most emblematic and consequential, with the Northern Baptists coming in second. The theologically conservative Princeton theologian B. B. Warfield wrote in 1895: What is needed above everything in these days of confusion is some electric spark to flash through the world of thought and crystallize parties on their lines of real cleavage. Above everything, the world needs to know on which side men are standing, and we need not doubt that there are many who need to have their real position revealed even to themselves.1

By the mid-1890s, Warfield and others were concerned that a shared terminology of ­historic Christianity was masking fundamental differences in belief. Warfield referred to plural “lines of real cleavage”—anticipating the complexity of the fundamentalistmodernist controversy. More than two positions existed; indeed, the determining

98   bradley j. gundlach factor  in the controversy was a group of leaders who were doctrinally ­conservative and institutionally liberal.

Prelude: 1910 to 1922 The Five Fundamentals In 1910 the PCUSA General Assembly specified five “essential” points candidates for licensure must affirm. Informally called “the five fundamentals,” the list would be used widely (with occasional modification) outside the Presbyterian context. The original points were: biblical inerrancy, Christ’s virgin birth, Christ’s substitutionary atonement, Christ’s bodily resurrection and ascension, and Christ’s performance of miracles. Individual presbyteries handled licensure and ordination in the Presbyterian Church, but the 1910 Assembly held that the Adopting Act of 1729 empowered it to decide which articles of faith were “essential and necessary” to its system of doctrine. The PCUSA was a creedal church, requiring its ministers to subscribe to the Westminster Confession to safeguard the purity of its teaching and preaching. The denomination did not require adherence to every jot and tittle; rather, each presbytery was to determine whether its candidates sufficiently affirmed the Confession’s “system of doctrine.” But what if a presbytery disagreed with the Assembly’s determination of “essential and necessary” articles? And what if a large swath of the PCUSA believed a presbytery was shirking its duty to maintain the purity of Presbyterian doctrine, allowing the spread of lax or false teaching? Such was the case in 1910. Many candidates for the ministry in New York Presbytery studied at Union Theological Seminary, a formerly PCUSA school that had withdrawn from the denomination in 1892 and since grown considerably more liberal. When that presbytery licensed three graduates of the seminary who could not affirm the Virgin Birth, conservatives complained to the General Assembly. Though it did not disbar the licentiates, the Assembly adopted the five-point deliverance and admonished the presbyteries to take care that future candidates agree to all five “essential and necessary” articles. These five “fundamentals” functioned as a litmus test for supernaturalism rather than the distilled essence of Christianity or a set of foundational doctrines. The word “fundamentals” traditionally indicated a set of first truths upon which to build a coherent and well-grounded system of doctrine.2 But these five points were neither the foundational upon which to erect an elaborate creed nor a consensus creed of gospel essentials. Notably absent were statements on, for example, the Trinity, the lost condition of humanity, and Jesus as the only way to heaven.

Liberals Subscription to the Confession should have served as a far more thoroughgoing ­safeguard of orthodoxy than any five-point statement, but it had not. In the nineteenth

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   99 century, Presbyterians had split over the softening of Calvinistic doctrine; by the early 1900s, a growing number of professors and pastors had accepted higher critical views of the Bible and adopted nonsupernatural interpretations of Jesus’ life and purpose from German theologians Friedrich Schleiermacher, Adolf Harnack, and Albrecht Ritschl. These theologians recast Christianity, finding its essence in the consciousness and teachings of Jesus, the supremely God-dependent man who exemplified loving self-­ sacrifice in the service of others. Their Jesus offered a model and inspiration for people of goodwill in any age and culture, transcending the contingent historical circumstances of Christianity’s origins, elevating it to a purer spirituality, and rescuing it from implausibility and irrelevance in the modern age. This recasting retained much of the language of historic orthodoxy while altering its meaning. So, for example, one could affirm “that Jesus Christ was God manifest in the flesh” and so speak of his “divinity” without meaning that he was actually God—rather, Jesus showed God to humanity and perfectly embodied the divine spark that is present to some degree in every person. But this approach struck many conservatives as outright deceit. Presbyterians attracted to the new views believed that the doctrinal precision of the Confession was relatively unimportant. Their love and admiration for the character of Jesus remained, as did their feeling of loyalty to the church and desire to see Christian ethics prevail in the world. The umbrella term “system of doctrine” seemed to them indeterminate enough to allow a wide variation in belief when subscribing to the Confession, despite its very pointed statements that, for example, Jesus Christ was “the second person of the Trinity, being very and eternal God, of one substance and equal with the Father.”3 Some embraced the modernist recasting outright; many more considered the use of shared language sufficient for fellowship and missionary effort. Together they believed that doctrinal fine points must not be allowed to hamper united effort for the church’s work in the modern world. A desire for united effort had impelled diverse Presbyterian bodies to merge in Scotland and Australia (1900), New Zealand (1901), and the United States (the PCUSA with the Cumberland Presbyterians in 1906). Unions crossing wider confessional divides, especially with the Methodists, were contemplated in New Zealand, Canada, and the United States.

Confessionalists and Pietists Confessional Calvinism faced multiple challenges from an increasingly interconnected evangelical culture that crossed national and denominational boundaries. By the 1910s, many in the PCUSA downplayed the Westminster Confession, whether owing to New School revivalist emphases, the exciting prospect of fulfilling the Great Commission as declared at the 1910 Edinburgh Missionary Conference, premillennialist zeal for the imminent return of Christ, or the “I surrender all” experientialism of Keswick and Holiness teachings. These more pietistic Presbyterians, devoted to transforming lives, hastening the Lord’s return, and ameliorating society, sympathized with both the liberals’ call for effective service and their opponents’ warnings against “another gospel.”

100   bradley j. gundlach The opponents of modernism thus included both confessionalists and pietists—careful guardians of Calvinist orthodoxy and more broadly evangelical believers in the old-time gospel of salvation from sin through the shed blood of Christ. Strict confessionalists deplored “broad churchism,” while pietists downplayed doctrinal “minutiae,” but both cherished a Bible-based historic gospel, not one adulterated to fit with modern thought. Presbyterian confessionalists supplied fundamentalism’s best intellectual muscle, but their devotion to Reformed orthodoxy sat somewhat uneasily with the larger movement.

The Great War World War I provided the “electric spark” Warfield had wished for, crystalizing two ­recognizably opposed parties in the church. After the war, fundamentalists and liberals each saw in the other a serious threat to Christ’s work in the world. At the epicenter of their differences was the Bible. As American Christians considered the catastrophe of the world war, many perceived a long-brewing connection between German militarism and the largely German-born “higher criticism” that had dismembered the Bible, discredited its claims of authorship, and treated it as a record of the imperfect, evolving religion of the Hebrews rather than the ever-true oracles of God. They found it scandalous that such notions had quietly taken over seminaries and ­colleges to which unsuspecting believers had entrusted the education of their precious children and the future leadership of the church. Postwar labor unrest and the Red Scare added to the felt need to secure the foundations of Christian civilization. Most famously, Baptist minister William Bell Riley founded the World’s Christian Fundamentals Association in 1919, a transdenominational effort to rid mainstream Protestant bodies of the modernist enemy within. But the war and its outcome scared liberals as well. For decades, leaders like Congregationalist Washington Gladden and Presbyterian Charles Briggs had warned that it was both folly and betrayal of Christ to insist upon the inerrancy of the Bible—for the discovery of one proven error would justify throwing away the sacred book, which, despite its human limitations, put people in contact with the divine life of Christ.4 With the Christian civilization of the West self-destructing, liberals believed the world needed more than ever a Christian message tailored to the needs of modernity. Postwar fundamentalist militancy about the Bible, liberals feared, would discredit Christianity and destroy its influence. One theological point of contention particularly inflamed by the war was eschatology. Premillennialists, a growing presence in the Presbyterian churches, held that Christ would return not to cap the church’s successes in building a kingdom of righteousness, but instead to rescue a faithful remnant in a world gone sour and a church gone apostate. Many premillennialists turned away from social and political concern to concentrate on soul-winning alone. Liberals were appalled at this defeatism and called even more urgently for Christians to shape the world through coordinated, transdenominational action.

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   101

The Beginning of the Anti-evolution Campaign Early in the Great War, the Presbyterian secretary of state, William Jennings Bryan, ­concluded that German militarism was the logical outcome of Darwinism: might makes right. In 1920 he began denouncing the spread of evolutionary thinking in schools and universities as a dire threat to Christian civilization. His anti-evolution ­crusade made national news, and it soon intruded into the rising controversies in the PCUSA and the Northern Baptist Convention.5

Modernism in China Concern about the purity of the gospel and the future of Christian civilization had special resonance with missionaries. In 1920 the conservative Princeton Theological Review published a report titled “Modernism in China,” by Canadian Anglican W. H. Griffith Thomas. It contained testimony from concerned mission workers, shocking excerpts from modernist textbooks in use in mission schools, and a plea from leading Chinese Christians that evangelism requires “a deep conviction on Christian fundamentals,” for “no foreigner can win us to a belief in what he only half believes.” Conservative missionaries from several denominations and countries formed the Bible Union of China, attracting 1,400 members by late 1921 and wide coverage in the religious press at home.6

Controversy in the PCUSA, 1922–1929 These many issues—the nature of biblical authority, confessional distinctives versus interdenominational cooperation and union, premillennialist concern for individual regeneration versus a postmillennial social gospel, the anti-evolution campaign, and evangelism on the foreign field—interacted in sometimes messy ways to produce a period of prolonged turmoil in successive PCUSA general assemblies. Often the issues did not align neatly. For example, Princeton Seminary professor Charles Erdman, a leading moderate, was simultaneously a doctrinal conservative, a broad-church inclusivist, an ardent supporter of missions, and a premillennialist.

Shall the Fundamentalists Win? The Presbyterian controversy erupted following a sermon by Harry Emerson Fosdick Jr., a Baptist filling the pulpit of the prestigious First Presbyterian Church in New York City. “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?” was a shot across the bow, describing two parties “equally loyal and reverent,” but accusing the fundamentalists of fostering an intolerant and combative spirit just when humanity needed Christ more than ever. Fosdick found

102   bradley j. gundlach it “almost unforgiveable” that Christians were quarreling over minor doctrinal issues, when the world was “perishing for the lack of the weightier matters of the law, justice, and mercy, and faith.” He preached love and liberality while strongly criticizing fundamentalists for clinging to a “static and mechanical theory of inspiration” and telling the young, “Come, and we will feed you opinions from a spoon. No ­thinking is allowed here except such as brings you to certain specified, predetermined conclusions.” To demonstrate the continued vitality of modernist faith, Fosdick offered reinterpretations of the fundamentalists’ essential doctrines. Like Christ’s disciples, modernists adored Jesus and believed that “he came specially from God,” but the disciples “phrased it in terms of a biological miracle that our modern minds cannot use.” As to the doctrine of inspiration, “finality in the Koran is behind; finality in the Bible is ahead,” and on this view “the Book is more inspired and more inspiring than ever it was before.”7 Two themes pervaded the sermon: the good faith of modernists as Christians, and the centrality of evolutionary thinking to their views. Both were flashpoints in the emerging controversy. After all that reinterpretation were modernists really Christians? And if not, was their evolutionism to blame?

Christianity and Liberalism Fosdick’s sermon created a sensation, arousing strong feelings all around. PCUSA ­pastor Clarence Macartney saw Fosdick’s sermon as an outrage but also an opportunity, because “what had long been said in the closet was now shouted from the housetop.” Modernists had been “sapping and mining, rather than storming the walls” of biblical faith. Now Fosdick had exposed their treachery. Macartney responded with a sermon titled “Shall Unbelief Win?” and his Philadelphia presbytery sent an overture to the General Assembly complaining that Fosdick’s repudiation of the Virgin Birth violated the church’s doctrinal standards.8 Meanwhile, Princeton Seminary professor J. Gresham Machen had been pondering the doctrinal indifference he perceived behind the ecumenical spirit so popular among mainstream Protestants. His own seminary president, J. Ross Stevenson, recommended that the PCUSA join a federation of nineteen denominations proposed by the American Council on Organic Union. The plan, Machen protested, treated the Westminster Confession as but “one expression of the progressive Christian consciousness” and forsook evangelical doctrines for vague generalities about ethics and social action.9 Though the measure eventually failed, its proponents were many and growing. And so, a few months before Fosdick’s sermon, Machen published an article in the Princeton Theological Review with the provocative title, “Liberalism or Christianity?” plainly suggesting that the two were mutually exclusive. When the Fosdick affair hit the newsstands and the church assemblies, Machen enlarged his article into the classic intellectual statement of the fundamentalist cause: Christianity and Liberalism (1923).10 “The great redemptive religion which has always been known as Christianity,” Machen contended, “is battling against a totally diverse type of religious belief which is

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   103 only the more destructive of the Christian faith because it makes use of traditional Christian terminology.” In the fight against materialism, liberalism had abandoned faith in Jesus Christ as a supernatural Savior. It reduced Jesus to a great moral teacher and exemplar of love, and Christianity to following that example—as if sinners had within them the wherewithal to imitate Christ adequately. That was “natural religion,” mere dogoodism, not the historic, redemptive Christian faith. People must choose, Machen maintained, between historic Christian orthodoxy (best elaborated in the Westminster Standards) and a pseudo-Christianity that would eventuate in outright unbelief.11

God and Evolution Bryan’s anti-evolution campaign was an important factor in Fosdick’s decision to preach his inflammatory sermon, and it played an important role in galvanizing support for and opposition to the fundamentalist cause in the churches. In a New York Times article and in several widely popular books, Bryan blamed evolutionism for the modern decline of religion and morals. “Those who teach Darwinism are undermining the faith of Christians,” Bryan alleged; “they are raising questions about the Bible as an authoritative source of truth; they are teaching materialistic views that rob the life of the young of spiritual values.” Why, Bryan asked, pouncing on geneticist William Bateson’s recent admission of a crisis in evolutionary theory, should Christian taxpayers fund “the teaching of guesses that make the Bible a lie?”12 In reply, Fosdick denounced Bryan’s “sincere but appalling obscurantism,” his ­outmoded views of the Bible, and his campaign to outlaw the teaching of evolution, promising a fight from the liberal side. Henry Fairfield Osborn of the American Museum of Natural History leapt to the defense of evolutionism and its positive religious effects, answering Bryan repeatedly in print and, together with the American Civil Liberties Union, rallying scientists to the defense in a struggle that culminated in the Scopes Trial in July 1925. The journal Science ran excerpts from Bryan’s and Osborn’s articles, and in June 1923 published “A Joint Statement upon the Relations of Science and Religion” signed by dozens of religious leaders, scientists, and “men of affairs.” It expressly avowed modernist theological principles, declaring that science handled facts while religion handled ideals and aspirations—and it gave the weight of scientific prestige to that avowal. This dichotomy stripped biblical claims of miracles, the Virgin Birth, and above all the resurrection of Christ of their historical reality and relegated them to the realm of inspiring story.13 The same month as the appearance of the Joint Statement, the Philadelphia Presbyterian ran an anti-evolution article by George McCready Price, originator of the “flood geology” theory that after 1961 would energize the young-earth creationist movement. Price then contributed two articles to the Princeton Theological Review and reached untold thousands in the Sunday School Times asking for “Fair Play in the Teaching of Evolution.” Princeton Seminary’s professors, previously unconcerned about biological evolution properly limited and explained, divided over the issue. The ­anti-evolution campaign was entering and inflaming the troubles in the PCUSA.

104   bradley j. gundlach Reversing the PCUSA’s long history of handling science-religion issues, Bryan resorted to coercion rather than persuasion, seeking to pass state laws to prohibit the teaching of evolution at taxpayer expense, and now hoped to enlist the General Assembly in his crusade.

The General Assembly of 1923 The high drama of the Presbyterian controversy played out in the General Assemblies of the mid-twenties, where fundamentalists continued the conservative strategy of using the highest church judicatory to combat theological drift in the denomination, while liberals hoped to secure doctrinal toleration, “united witness,” and the constitutional rights of presbyteries. Newspapers across the nation covered the Assemblies and fanned the flames of controversy. The Fosdick affair and the anti-evolution campaign made the General Assembly of 1923 headline news. Bryan campaigned for the powerful office of moderator, backed by Macartney and militant conservatives. He lost narrowly to the president of Presbyterian Wooster College, where biological evolution was openly taught. The New York Times had expected the Fosdick episode to provide the fireworks at the Assembly; now it looked forward to a battle between evolutionists and anti-evolutionists.14 It continued to cast the Presbyterian controversy in those terms, despite division among the conservatives on that issue. Narrowly losing the moderatorship, Bryan tried to bar PCUSA funding of any ­educational institution “that teaches or permits to be taught as a proved fact, either Darwinism or any other evolutionary hypothesis that links man in blood relationship with any other form of life.” After three hours of debate, the Assembly adopted a much softer motion, instructing synods and presbyteries “to withhold their official approval” from any academic institution “which seeks to establish a materialistic evolutionary philosophy of life or which disregards or attempts to discredit the Christian faith.”15 The measure addressed the evolution question squarely where PCUSA theologians had located the issue, in naturalistic philosophy, and took a stand against the American Association of University Professors. The AAUP, founded eight years earlier following a dispute at a Presbyterian college, had proclaimed that true university standards ruled out all confessional requirements.16 Partially defeated on the evolution issue, fundamentalists scored a victory in the Fosdick affair. By a decisive vote the Assembly directed the New York Presbytery to “require the preaching and teaching in the First Presbyterian Church of New York to conform to the system of doctrines taught in the Confession of Faith.” The Assembly also reaffirmed the five fundamentals of 1910. The vote revealed a split between the grass roots (ruling elders) and the church bureaucracy, with the former group strongly in favor and the latter group almost unanimously opposed.17 Such a dividing line has characterized mainline denominations on hot-button issues ever since, sometimes breeding serious mistrust.

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   105

The Auburn Affirmation Strong reaction against the Assembly’s action in the Fosdick affair came immediately. Observers outside the church, following Fosdick’s lead in seeing the issue as one of ­scientific learning versus obscurantism, hailed him as a martyr to the cause. PCUSA liberals quickly rallied, enlarging a paper that an Auburn Seminary professor had drafted in defense of the doctrinal liberty of Presbyterian ministers. The finished product, “An  Affirmation Designed to Safeguard the Unity and Liberty of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America,” eventually garnered the signatures of 1,274 PCUSA ministers, including some theological conservatives—signaling what would prove to be a decisive turn in the whole controversy. Those conservative signers, believing the overwhelming majority of the PCUSA to be soundly evangelical, saw fundamentalists’ suspicions as overblown and their measures as improper. The key words in the Affirmation’s title were “unity” and “liberty.” It opened by protesting “persistent attempts to divide the church and abridge its freedom.” The most extreme conservatives did want those who could not affirm the five fundamentals to leave the denomination, but such militancy was comparatively rare, and the Auburn Affirmation convinced many that the Assembly had overstepped its proper authority by issuing the five-point doctrinal deliverance of 1910 and reaffirming it in 1916 and 1923. In clear and measured language that contrasted favorably with the stark and sometimes shrill tones of the militants, the Affirmation spelled out the constitutional case. According to the Form of Government, the Assembly could “bear testimony against error in doctrine,” but such testimony lacked binding authority unless it was ratified by the presbyteries. A unilateral “declaration by a General Assembly that any doctrine is ‘an essential doctrine’ attempts to amend the constitution of the church in an unconstitutional manner.” Moreover, the Assembly had “virtually pronounced a judgment” in the Fosdick case, already under consideration in New York Presbytery, “without giving a hearing to the parties concerned.” This “in effect condemned a Christian ­minister without using the method of conference, patience and love enjoined on us by Jesus Christ.”18 These matters of constitutional procedure and Christian forbearance probably motivated conservatives who signed the Affirmation. But the document has lived in infamy for its vague and evasive statements denying the existence of significant disagreement in belief. Instead of affirming that Jesus Christ was very God, it said “Jesus Christ was God manifest in the flesh” and “God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself.” This was carefully chosen language direct from the Bible and supremely correct, in the view of such moderates as Robert Speer who held fervently to gospel religion but publicly devalued theological systems.19 But in bypassing the language of Westminster and the Nicene Creed it tacitly treated the doctrine of the Trinity as a questionable later development, thus following the teaching of classic liberal theologian Adolf Harnack. Worse, the Affirmation drew a distinction between the “great facts and doctrines” of the gospel and the “theories” explaining them—a curious and perhaps disingenuous divide, given the placement of “doctrines” on the side of unelaborated facts, so as to be able to

106   bradley j. gundlach claim fidelity to the doctrine of, say, the Resurrection, while thinking of it in terms, not of a body raised and glorified, but of a life so inspiring that Jesus “lives today” in that metaphorical sense. This struck many, including later leading moderates like Princeton Seminary president J. Ross Stevenson, as much too lax.20 It might also be observed that the liberals here made use of the fact/theory distinction so frequently criticized in fundamentalists.

Division at Princeton Machen’s Christianity and Liberalism and the Auburn Affirmation defined the doctrinal terms of what James Moorhead calls “the extreme poles” of the Presbyterian controversy,21 but the five fundamentals and the Fosdick case complicated the issue with constitutional and procedural questions, and the anti-evolution campaign added science and religion questions and entanglement with civil laws. This potent mixture attracted colorful and sustained media attention, which in turn intensified the controversy. The PCUSA’s oldest and most prestigious seminary became the focal point of the controversy in the mid-1920s, and its faculty, president, and board members played decisive roles in the outcome. At the center of it all was Machen. Opponents branded him as illiberal and disputatious; sympathizers commended his earnestness and directness. His book not only rocketed him to national attention, it also attracted students to Princeton Seminary. Enrollment increased dramatically after 1923,22 and Machen, already popular with students, inspired many to join him in battle, including several future leaders of conservative Presbyterianism. Many non-Presbyterians came as well. But Machen also provoked opposition. As pulpit supply in Princeton’s First Presbyterian Church, he denounced liberalism and insisted that “separation alone can bring Christian unity.” Princeton University literature professor Henry Van Dyke called Machen’s preaching “a dismal, bilious travesty of the Gospel,” and publicly gave up his pew. Van Dyke returned when the moderate Charles Erdman succeeded Machen in that pulpit— prompting the Presbyterian to hint that Erdman was a liberal and that the seminary faculty was divided into opposing camps.23 Erdman indignantly denied any division “on points of doctrine” and faulted “the unkindness, suspicion, bitterness and intolerance of those members of  the faculty, who are also editors of the Presbyterian.” Only one man served in that capacity—Machen. The contest now publicly took on a personal dimension.24 Students who sympathized with Machen’s concerns found the Mid-Atlantic Association of Theological Students riddled with modernism, severed ties with it, and joined a new group, the League of Evangelical Students. Erdman, long the faculty adviser to the student organization, disapproved, and the students replaced him with the Old Testament professor Robert Dick Wilson, who was active on the fundamentalist circuit. Erdman had long enjoyed popularity with the student body, and he blamed Machen for this turn of events, deepening the division on the faculty.25

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   107 Church politics were indeed dividing the seminary, and Princeton Seminary politics now began to affect the PCUSA. Erdman narrowly lost the moderatorship of the 1924 General Assembly to the ultra-conservative Clarence Macartney, a recent addition to the seminary board of directors. A majority of the seminary faculty supported Macartney over their colleague Erdman, further embittering him. The Assembly disposed of the Fosdick affair by requiring him to join the PCUSA if he wanted to continue in the New York pulpit, prompting his resignation. But it took no action against the doctrinal laxity of the Auburn Affirmation, and overtly agreed with its procedural argument that constitutional changes required concurrent action of the Assembly and presbyteries. This was a major defeat for the conservatives, especially with one of their strongest leaders at the helm.26

The Turning Point: 1925–1926 At the 1925 General Assembly Erdman again ran for moderator, but a majority of his seminary colleagues signed a pamphlet opposing him. Machen warned that though Erdman was personally orthodox, his position in church politics served “the modernist and indifferentist party in the Church.” Erdman, however, ran on a platform of “old fashioned orthodoxy and Christian spirit and constitutional procedure,” and won.27 New York Presbytery had failed to act against the two now licensed ministers who denied the Virgin Birth, so its case was reconsidered. The Judicial Commission ruled that “the Church is not a mere confederation of Presbyteries,” and since the five-point deliverance was “the established law of the Church,” the presbytery must enforce it. At this crucial moment, the influential liberal Henry Sloane Coffin read a prepared protest, insisting that any change to ordination standards required ratification by the presbyteries. New York Presbytery would not obey this unconstitutional ruling. Some liberals were on the verge of bolting.28 The prospect of schism forced moderate conservatives to make a choice: would they side with the liberals on the constitutional question, and so preserve the institutional unity of the church—or with the conservatives on the doctrinal question, and see the church divided but its orthodoxy guarded?29 Erdman called for a special commission to study the PCUSA’s spiritual condition and causes of unrest. After a year of touchy and controverted investigation, the commission’s report to the Assembly of 1926 found (a) no widespread modernist defection from the Christian faith in the PCUSA; (b) that rivalry between liberal and conservative views was a long-standing feature of Presbyterian history, establishing firm precedent for diversity within the fold; and (c) that jurisdiction over candidates for the ministry resided with the presbyteries—so the General Assemblies of 1910, 1916, and 1923 had exceeded their powers in imposing the five fundamentals as an additional requirement for ordination. The report also made a pivotal statement of liberal principle: “The ties which bind us to it [the church] are not of the mind only; they are ties of the heart as well.” Cognitive assent was not the only bond of fellowship; loyalty to community could supplement or even supplant loyalty to doctrine.30

108   bradley j. gundlach Significantly, the report located the source of the controversy not in doctrinal issues but in the conservatives’ “misjudgments and unfair and untrue statements” bordering on “libel and slander.” The Assembly overwhelmingly approved the report.31 It was a striking turnabout from fundamentalists’ near triumph the previous year. By 1926, “many Presbyterians did not want to be linked to the populist fundamentalism of barbeque and ballyhoo” associated with the Scopes Trial.32

The Reorganization of Princeton Seminary Division at Princeton Seminary, the renowned powerhouse of Presbyterian orthodoxy, now became the focus of the controversy. President Stevenson asked its board of directors to form an internal committee to solve the problem, but its report, vindicating the orthodoxy of all the professors, skirted the question of toleration of liberal views. As faculty strife continued, Stevenson turned to the 1926 General Assembly for help. It formed a committee to investigate the seminary and postponed confirming Machen’s recent election to the chair of apologetics because of his “temperamental idiosyncrasies,” among which was his libertarian opposition to Prohibition.33 This was an unprecedented move and a heavy blow against Machen. The investigating committee—chaired by a friend of Erdman and Stevenson— conducted interviews and received statements from the seminary faculty, boards, and administration. Stevenson blamed Machen for the “suspicion, distrust, dissension, and division” plaguing the seminary. The board of directors criticized the president’s efforts to thwart its will in electing Machen to the chair of apologetics and called for his resignation. It also defended Machen’s widely recognized abilities and Christian character, citing numerous favorable international reviews, even from opponents, that credited his “truly fine and catholic spirit” in controversy.34 Conservative professors Geerhardus Vos and Caspar Wistar Hodge Jr. insisted that the seminary division was doctrinal, not personal. They argued that robust, starkly supernaturalistic Calvinism was the best safeguard for all evangelicalism and protested their colleagues’ willingness to countenance un-Calvinistic teaching while claiming loyalty to the Westminster Standards. They hoped the Assembly would permit Princeton to serve as the voice of conservative Calvinism in the PCUSA, just as Union served as the voice of Presbyterian liberalism.35 The committee’s report to the 1927 Assembly sided with Erdman and Stevenson, finding no doctrinal laxity at Princeton Seminary and blaming the strife on Machen’s unwillingness to trust his colleagues’ claims of orthodoxy. It further identified the root of the problem in the seminary’s governance by two boards, since they were divided over the issue of toleration. The solution: to enlarge the president’s powers over academics and administration, and to merge the board of directors (dominated by conservative confessionalists) into the more tolerationist board of trustees. The Assembly approved the report. Stevenson’s declaration at the previous Assembly, that his “ambition as President of the seminary is to have it represent the whole Presbyterian Church and not any particular faction of it,” had won the day. Two years later the reorganization took

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   109 effect. The president had beaten the board by appeal to the General Assembly. Like many other denominations in this era, the PCUSA chose loyalty over doctrinal precision and handled problems through a managerial revolution that affirmed strong, centralized leadership in the interest of effective action—a consolidation that disempowered those who disapproved of that choice.36 Thus, the General Assemblies of the 1920s chose in the end to entrust questions of doctrinal faithfulness to the presbyteries—a policy of decentralization on theological matters relating to ordination—yet to wield centralized power to diversify Princeton Seminary. Many conservatives concluded that a policy of liberality on doctrine was the wise and Christlike choice, since actual modernism seemed rare in the church. But many others suspected that liberal theological principles would inevitably lead to modernist denials of essential doctrines, and bitterly resented what they considered the liberals’ unfair and high-handed machinations in destroying Princeton Seminary’s distinctive character as an erudite defender of confessional Calvinism.

Westminster Seminary When the 1929 General Assembly finalized the decision to reorganize Princeton Seminary, Machen and several colleagues resigned and soon founded a new seminary to carry on the tradition of old Princeton. Other conservatives, including Vos and Hodge, remained at Princeton in hopes of continued influence there. Thanks to herculean efforts, good connections, and many sympathizers, Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia opened in fall 1929. It attracted faculty and students from other denominations, especially Methodists, Christian Reformed, and Canadian Presbyterian refugees from the merger that had created the United Church there in 1925. Westminster’s bid to serve both confessional Calvinist orthodoxy and the larger evangelical cause was soon hampered by internal strife over dispensational premillennialism and apologetics, owing to its mixed constituency and its founding preoccupation with the trajectories likely to follow from erroneous basic principles.37 Westminster never achieved the size or influence on the PCUSA its founders envisioned, but it produced key leaders of mid-century Reformed evangelicalism and carried on the tradition of scholarly confessional orthodoxy.

The Missions Controversy, 1932–1937 Re-thinking Missions Conservative alarm over doctrinal laxity on the mission field, predating Fosdick’s sermon and the ensuing imbroglio, resurfaced in the 1930s and brought on the final phase of the fundamentalist-modernist controversy in the PCUSA.

110   bradley j. gundlach A transdenominational study of modern missions issued in 1932 a report, Re-thinking Missions: A Laymen’s Inquiry after One Hundred Years. Its forthright avowal of modernist principles shocked Presbyterians, both conservative and moderate. Macartney cleverly nicknamed it “Renouncing Missions.”38 Abandoning the ultimacy of the Christian gospel, the report recommended “Christianity’s active participation in an emerging world religion” to stand against the pressures of secularism. Presbyterian missionary and popular author Pearl Buck enthusiastically promoted the report in a speech published in Harper’s magazine. She denied original sin, salvation in Christ alone, and the goal of establishing Christian churches, offering instead a Jesus who was “the essence of men’s dreams of simplest and most beautiful goodness.”39

Schism The syncretism of Re-thinking Missions appalled most mainline mission boards, including that of the PCUSA, which reaffirmed its commitment to evangelism and to “Jesus Christ as the only Lord and Saviour,” avoiding further specification. This response did not satisfy Machen and the conservatives, who blamed PCUSA missions head Robert Speer for “a palliative, middle-of-the-road, evasive policy” that was “a greater menace to the souls of men than any clear-cut Modernism could be.” Machen wanted to ask the 1933 General Assembly to elect to the mission board “only persons who are fully aware of the danger” facing the denomination and to require missionary candidates to affirm a list of four essential doctrines. When these efforts failed, and the Assembly instead commended Speer and the missions board, Machen founded the Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions. This alleged disloyalty, division of effort, and diversion of funding the denomination would not abide. Machen’s own presbytery added a requirement that new members pledge support to the PCUSA’s authorized boards and agencies. The church’s central administrative committee accused Machen of violating his ordination vows, likening refusal to support official church missions to refusal to take holy communion. The 1934 Assembly agreed, demanded the dissolution of the Independent Board, and called for official discipline of any Presbyterian who continued to support it. When Machen refused to obey, he was tried and convicted of the heresy of schism.40 He and his followers launched a new denomination, which was soon called the Orthodox Presbyterian Church.

Conclusion Ironies Ironies abound in the story of the fundamentalist-modernist controversy in the PCUSA. Machen was expelled as a heretic—not for doctrinal deviation, but for disloyalty to

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   111 denominational structures. The party of theological liberty evicted the political ­libertarian. Partisans of the independent seminary (Union) used the increasingly powerful and centralized church bureaucracy to achieve their tolerationist goals. Princeton Seminary, having used the General Assembly to enforce its views intermittently from the 1890s to the 1920s, fell victim to Assembly power itself. And in founding Westminster as, like Union, an independent seminary, Machen and his allies took a page from the liberals’ playbook. Constitutional considerations had moved moderates to side with liberals in the Auburn Affirmation, but then that coalition repeatedly used the constitution to enforce denominational adherence. Machen’s defense echoed the arguments of New York Presbytery on behalf of the Virgin-Birth-denying licentiates, and Machen’s defiance of Assembly directives in 1934 echoed Coffin’s in 1925—yet he was ousted, and they remained.

Defining the Middle Historical analysis of the fundamentalist-modernist controversies has centered on the role of those in the middle, variously identified as “moderates,” “loyalists,” “institutionalists,” and “liberal evangelicals.” The outcome was determined when this middle group swung into the modernists’ camp not as modernists, but as church-political (not necessarily doctrinal) liberals—that is, as sympathizers with them on the constitutional question and for the sake of united witness and action.41 Were the moderates peacemakers in keeping with the Beatitudes, or betrayers of their conservative comrades in their hour of need?

Reverberations The PCUSA and other mainline denominations emerged from the fundamentalistmodernist controversies with an ecumenical determination to downplay doctrinal differences in the name of inclusivity and united effort. Denominational labels became increasingly less definite markers of particular beliefs. In doctrinal terms, liberal Presbyterians often shared more with liberal Methodists, for example, than either did with fundamentalists within their denomination. Many fundamentalists left their denominations, striking out as independent, undenominational congregations, or founding new, expressly conservative denominations. All these developments contributed to more tenuous and fluid denominational identification on both sides. Union and Princeton Seminaries moved closer to each other theologically—Coffin took the helm of Union in 1927 and led it somewhat away from modernism.42 Both Union and Princeton sought a centrist, ecumenical, institutionalist position and looked to neo-orthodoxy as a promising way out of the fundamentalist-modernist divide. Smaller American Presbyterian denominations watched the strife in the PCUSA with concern, sympathizing mostly with the conservatives. Reaction against the Auburn

112   bradley j. gundlach Affirmation ended efforts by the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS) to reunite with the PCUSA. A few PCUS liberals took local stands against the prevailing fundamentalism, later to be remembered as pioneers of their cause. Bryanite antievolutionism was strong in the PCUS and throughout the South.43 Meanwhile, division was so absent from the United Presbyterian Church of North America that it easily revised its doctrinal standards in 1923 to include a new section, “The Social Order,” alongside conservative views of scripture and salvation.44 The remnant of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church that had not united with the PCUSA, seeing the battle there, required its college teachers in 1925 to subscribe to an “avowal of hearty acceptance of the fundamentals of the gospel.”45 The global dimensions of the PCUSA controversy offer a fruitful prospect for ­further study. It affected Presbyterian denominations in Britain, Northern Ireland, Canada, Korea, Australia and New Zealand. Only in Northern Ireland and Korea did heated battles occur, and in both cases the fundamentalists strongly identified with their American counterparts. Machen became a magnet for like-minded conservatives, and Westminster Seminary began attracting an international and interdenominational clientele. Finally, the example of Princeton Seminary before its reorganization inspired later “neo-evangelicals” within and outside the Presbyterian fold to emulate its combination of Bible belief and serious intellectual engagement. For example, Fuller Theological Seminary, founded independently in 1947 by radio evangelist Charles Fuller, aimed originally to train conservative Presbyterian pastors for the PCUSA. His dream of influencing that denomination was not fulfilled, but the conservative legacy of the fundamentalist-modernist controversy spread through such efforts.46

Notes 1. Benjamin Breckinridge Warfield, short notice of Die Literatur des alten Testaments nach der Zeitfolge ihrer Entstehung, by G.  Wildboer, Presbyterian and Reformed Review 6 (1895): 537. 2. See Lefferts  A.  Loetscher, The Broadening Church: A Study of Theological Issues in the Presbyterian Church since 1869 (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1954), 98–99. 3. Westminster Confession of Faith, chap. 8, sec. 1. 4. Washington Gladden, Who Wrote the Bible? A Book for the People (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1896), 370–371. 5. Ferenc Morton Szasz, The Divided Mind of Protestant America, 1880–1930 (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1982), 109; and Michael Kazin, A Godly Hero: The Life of William Jennings Bryan (New York: Anchor, 2006). 6. W. H. Griffith Thomas, “Modernism in China,” Princeton Theological Review 19 (1921): 668. The members of in the Bible Union of China included “more than eighty different denominations or missionary societies” from England, Scotland, Ireland, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Germany, Russia, Denmark, the Netherlands, Canada, the United States, and Australia.

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   113 7. Harry Emerson Fosdick, “Shall the Fundamentalists Win? A Sermon Preached at the First Presbyterian Church, New York, May 21, 1922,” New York City, 1922. 8. Clarence Macartney, “The State of the Church,” Princeton Theological Review 23 (1925): 181; and George M. Marsden, Fundamentalism and American Culture: The Shaping of TwentiethCentury Evangelicalism, 1870–1925 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), 173. 9. J. Gresham Machen, “The Proposed Plan of Union,” Presbyterian 90 (June 10, 1920), 9. 10. J. Gresham Machen, “Liberalism or Christianity?,” Princeton Theological Review 20 (1922): 93–117; and Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (New York: Macmillan, 1923). 11. Machen, Christianity and Liberalism, 6. 12. William Jennings Bryan, “God and Evolution,” New York Times, February 26, 1922, sec. 7. 13. Robert A. Millikan et al., “A Joint Statement upon the Relations of Science and Religion,” printed under the title “Science and Religion,” Science 57 (June 1, 1923): 630–631; and Bradley  J.  Gundlach, Process and Providence: The Evolution Question at Princeton, 1845–1929 (Grand Rapids, MI: William  B.  Eerdmans, 2013), 263–304. The definitive history of the Scopes Trial is Edward T. Larson, Summer for the Gods: The Scopes Trial and America’s Continuing Debate over Science and Religion (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998). 14. Bradley  J.  Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 58. 15. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 74. 16. See George M. Marsden, The Soul of the American University: From Protestant Establishment to Established Nonbelief (New York: Oxford University Press, 1996), 292–316. 17. Loetscher, Broadening Church, 112. 18. “An Affirmation Designed to Safeguard the Unity and Liberty of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, Submitted for the Consideration of Its Ministers and People” (pamphlet, n.d., 1924), available online at the PCA Historical Center website, “Historic Documents in American Presbyterian History,” http://www.pcahistory.org/ documents/auburntext.html. 19. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 193. 20.  J. Ross Stevenson, “The Adopting Act of 1729 and the Powers of the General Assembly,” Princeton Theological Review 22 (1924): 96–106. 21. James Moorhead, Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2012), 361. 22. David  B.  Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, vol. 2: The Majestic Testimony, 1869–1929 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1996), 510n4. 23. Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, 348. 24. Moorhead, Princeton Seminary, 362; Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, 351. 25. A.  A.  MacRae, “Why the League?,” The Evangelical Student 1 (April 1926): 3–4; and Ned  B.  Stonehouse, J.  Gresham Machen: A Biographical Memoir, 3rd ed. (1955; repr., Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1987), 377–379. 26. Loetscher, Broadening Church, 123. 27. Moorhead, Princeton Seminary, 363 (Machen quotation); Loetscher, Broadening Church, 126 (Erdman quotation). 28. Loetscher, Broadening Church, 127 (quotation); Moorhead, Princeton Seminary, 365; and Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 150–151. 29. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 152.

114   bradley j. gundlach 30. Moorhead, Princeton Seminary, 365–366. 31. Hart, Defending the Faith, 118–119. 32. Glenn T. Miller, Piety and Profession: American Protestant Theological Education, 1870–1970 (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2007), 433. 33. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 163–166; Loetscher, Broadening Church, 140–141. 34. “Minutes of the Board of Directors of Princeton Theological Seminary,” November 23 and 24, 1926, Princeton Theological Seminary Special Collections. 35. Hart, Defending the Faith, 121–127; Miller, Piety and Profession, 434. 36. Loetscher, Broadening Church, 141–142; Hart, Defending the Faith, 126. 37. Charles G. Dennison, “Tragedy, Hope and Ambivalence: The History of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, 1936–1962,” Mid-America Journal of Theology 8 (1992): 147–159, and 9 (1993): 26–54, 248–278; Hart, Defending the Faith, 163; and Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 180. 38. Stonehouse, J. Gresham Machen, 474. 39. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 199–201. 40. Stonehouse, J. Gresham Machen, 469–488. 41. Bradley J. Longfield’s term “moderates” (The Presbyterian Conflict) has become the most prevalent. 42. Miller, Piety and Profession, 436–437. 43. Ernest Trice Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, vol. 3: 1890–1972 (Richmond, VA.: John Knox Press, 1973), 298–316. 44. Minutes of the Sixty-Fifth General Assembly of the United Presbyterian Church in North America (Pittsburgh, PA: United Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1923), 866–867. 45. Ben M. Barrus, Milton L. Baughn, and Thomas H. Campbell, A People Called Cumberland Presbyterians (Memphis, TN: Frontier Press, 1972), 413. 46. See George M. Marsden, Reforming Fundamentalism: Fuller Theological Seminary and the New Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1987).

Bibliography Airhart, Phyllis D. “The Accidental Modernists: American Fundamentalism and the Canadian Controversy over Church Union.” Church History 86 (2017): 120–144. Calhoun, David B. Princeton Seminary. Vol. 2: The Majestic Testimony, 1869–1929. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1996. Gundlach, Bradley J. Process and Providence: The Evolution Question at Princeton, 1845–1929. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2013. Hart, D. G. Defending the Faith: J. Gresham Machen and the Crisis of Conservative Protestantism in Modern America. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1994. Hutchison, William R. The Modernist Impulse in American Protestantism. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1976. Kazin, Michael. A Godly Hero: The Life of William Jennings Bryan. New York: Anchor, 2006. Loetscher, Lefferts A. The Broadening Church: A Study of Theological Issues in the Presbyterian Church since 1869. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1954. Longfield, Bradley J. The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991.

the fundamentalist-modernist controversy   115 Marsden, George M. Fundamentalism and American Culture: The Shaping of Twentieth-Century Evangelicalism, 1870–1925. New York: Oxford University Press, 1980. Miller, Glenn T. Piety and Profession: American Protestant Theological Education, 1870–1970. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2007. Moorhead, James. Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012.

chapter 7

Pr esby ter i a ns i n Br ita i n a n d Eu rope Ian J. Shaw

Introduction European Presbyterianism was forged in a crucible of immense change occasioned by the Reformation. Unique theological, political, and social pressures helped shape its foundational documents. The overthrow of the Roman Catholic establishment in Scotland opened the way for the Scots Confession of 1560, and the Second Book of Discipline was produced in politically uncertain times. The English Civil War during the 1640s was the backdrop for the Westminster Standards, including the Westminster Confession of Faith. These became the core documents of congregations across Europe which formally embraced Presbyterian forms of church order.1 However, Presbyterianism was more than adherence to formal doctrinal statements and ecclesiological structures. Presbyterian thought and practice were influenced by national, regional, and local contexts, by changing intellectual currents, local culture, and the personal style of local ministers and elders. Presbyterianism was far from uniform across Europe. The differences between Scotland, Ireland, England, and continental Europe were notable, but variations existed within countries, such as those between Presbyterianism in the Scottish Highlands and Lowlands. Local traditions developed. Within Presbyterianism there has been a distinct role for the laity in the ministry of the church. This created tensions for the authorities in the countries in which Presbyterianism existed, as did the absolute conviction that the head of the church could not be a monarch, or bishop, or other official, but only Jesus Christ. Therefore, from their beginnings, Presbyterian churches faced complex internal dynamics and a fluctuating relationship with the state.

118   ian j. shaw

Seventeenth-Century Presbyterianism Church and Politics in Scotland After the acceptance of a Reformed confession and church order in 1560, there were six major variations in Scotland between predominantly Presbyterian and predominantly Episcopalian forms up to 1690. The Second Book of Discipline (1578), sometimes called the Magna Carta of Presbyterianism, was included among the acts of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland in 1581, although it was not ratified by government act until 1592. Both Presbyterians and Episcopalians agreed that any national church should have a religious monopoly, without sectarian and schismatic alternatives, and exist through an alliance between church and state. This tied the fate of the church in Scotland to a very unsettled political scene. The desire of James I (r. 1567 to 1625) to control church policy and governance increased with the union of the Scottish and English crowns in 1603. Scottish Presbyterians who asserted the headship of Christ over the kirk faced growing repression. Andrew Melville, primary author of the Second Book of Discipline, was held in the Tower of London (1607–1611), then exiled on the continent. Some Presbyterians moved to Europe and the New England colonies, while others took advantage of the “plantation” policy in Ulster. Charles I (r. 1625 to 1649) accelerated the absolutist tendencies of his father. Amid heightened political tension, religious revival was reported among Presbyterians at Stewarton in Ayrshire in 1625, and at the Kirk O’Shotts in Lanarkshire in 1630. As both a high-church Anglican and an Arminian, William Laud, Charles’s agent of control over the church, epitomized what Presbyterians detested. Laud sought to reinforce the role of bishops and remove notable Presbyterian ministers from their parishes: Samuel Rutherford was exiled to Aberdeen in 1636. But Laud’s imposition of a version of the Book of Common Prayer on the Scottish church in 1637 badly misfired. It was a provocative act in the context of Roman Catholic advances in Europe during the Thirty Years’ War (1618–1648). When the book was first used in St Giles, Edinburgh, it provoked a riot. The popularly supported National Covenant of 1638 committed Scotland to the Presbyterian cause. The Covenant asserted that loyalty to the crown was conditional upon the king acting “in the defence and preservation of the foresaid true Religion, Liberties and Lawes of the Kingdome.” It gave the king legitimate reign over matters temporal, but Christ ruled the spiritual kingdom, where the king was a subject like all others. Samuel Rutherford’s Lex Rex (1644) further articulated this central tenet of Presbyterianism. After 1560, Presbyterianism advanced in an often unobtrusive way in the parishes. Many of them adopted a Presbyterian church form and theology, but after 1638 “privy kirks”2 spread rapidly in a “new Puritan phase in Scottish Presbyterianism.”3 Attending

presbyterians in britain and europe   119 them signified not only religious self-expression, but also political protest. The defeat of Charles I’s ill-equipped army, sent to Scotland to quash the Covenanters and their demands in the so-called Bishops Wars of 1639 and 1640, precipitated the recall of the English Parliament and the resulting Civil War. The assistance of the Scottish army in the parliamentarian victories at Marston Moor in 1644 and Naseby in 1645 was tied to  the Solemn League and Covenant, negotiated in 1643. It pledged to preserve the “reformed religion” in Scotland, and to reform England and Ireland “according to the Word of God, and the example of the best reformed Churches.” From the resultant Westminster Assembly, a gathering matched in significance by no other in Englishspeaking Presbyterianism, came the Westminster Confession of Faith, the Longer and Shorter Catechisms, and the Directory of Public Worship.4 The Church of Scotland adopted the Westminster Standards by a special act in 1647. The Solemn League left Scottish Presbyterians prey to the Stuart’s political machinations. When Charles II disingenuously accepted the covenants, Presbyterian opinion was divided. His army was decisively defeated at Worcester in 1651, and Cromwell’s occupying force prevented further Scottish rebellions. Under Cromwell’s policy of toleration, Presbyterianism extended its influence in Scotland. Although the General Assembly was not permitted to meet, most parishes had Presbyterian ministers, most villages a school, and most families a Bible. Independent and Baptist Churches progressed little: resisted by Presbyterian suspicions of “infection from the South.”5 But Cromwell’s failure to fully implement the Solemn League left him distrusted by many Presbyterians. Some sought the extension of Presbyterianism by political means or even by imposition or military action. Others rejected the view that the spiritual ideal of a purified church was achievable by force. The struggle of Charles II (r. 1649–1651 [Scotland only] and 1660 to 1685) for political control after the Restoration in 1660 left Presbyterians in Scotland severely threatened. He promptly abrogated the Solemn League, shattering Scottish hopes for an unfettered Presbyterian order. Some 270 ministers, 25 percent of the kirk’s total, refused to renounce the National Covenant and the Solemn League and Covenant, and accept Episcopal church forms and civil control of the church. Loyal Presbyterians now faced fines, imprisonment, exile, torture, or even death, rather than abandon the principle of the “crown rights” of Jesus Christ. The Covenanters effectively became an underground religious movement, strong especially in Fife and the South-West. They met in illegal conventicles to hear fugitive preachers and hold communion seasons in isolated locations on hills or moors to escape the attention of the authorities. Field preaching was made a capital offense in 1674. A number of those spared execution endured the horrors of the Bass Rock, Scotland’s gulag for undesirables. The treatment of the Wigtown Martyrs, Margaret Lauchlison and Margaret Wilson, two women executed by drowning in the Solway Firth for attending conventicles and refusing to abjure the covenants, was particularly barbaric. Repression was a product of the weakness of Episcopalianism. It bore parallels to the “Dragonnades” against the French Huguenots in the 1680s and was exacerbated by the actions of radical Covenanters such as Richard Cameron, who claimed armed

120   ian j. shaw defense of the Covenants and Presbyterianism to be a godly cause. The resulting ­military engagements, such as that at Bothwell Bridge in 1679, were small in scale, and almost all ended in decisive Covenanter defeats. After the brief reign of the Roman Catholic James VII of Scotland (James II of England), the formal accession of William of Orange with his wife Mary (James’s daughter) to the English and Scottish thrones in 1689, proved to be pivotal for Presbyterianism. Scottish religious policy was shaped by William’s chaplain, William Carstares, who had worked in Holland and argued for Dutch-style religious toleration. He persuaded William to accept an established Presbyterianism north of the border, and Episcopalianism south of it, and toleration of dissenting minorities, thereby resolving more than a century of conflict. William’s missive to the 1690 General Assembly declaring that violence was not “suited to the advancement of true religion. Moderation is what religion enjoins,” reflects Carstares’s influence.6 The head of state was no longer head of the church in Scotland, but the church had surrendered significant influence in the state. In 1690, the surviving remnant from the Restoration, just sixty Presbyterian m ­ inisters, took charge of the Church of Scotland. Patronage was abolished, as was episcopacy, and indulgences were granted to Episcopalian clergy who acknowledged William as king, although those who refused to swear allegiance to William and Mary were excluded. The covenants were quietly dropped as political objectives. The Cameronians, however, remained separate, and in 1743 formed their own Reformed Presbytery. Carstares steadfastly resisted efforts to restore episcopacy to Scotland under Queen Anne (r. 1702 to 1714). The 1707 Union of English and Scottish parliaments safeguarded the Church of Scotland and its Presbyterian government. Yet Westminster retained within its remit ultimate control over matters both spiritual and temporal, and in 1712, it opted to restore patronage to the Scottish Church, an act deemed “productive of more mischief in Scottish ecclesiastical life than of any other piece of legislation.”7 The General Assembly deplored the step as “grievous,” and called for its repeal annually until 1784. It became the dominant issue in Scottish ecclesiastical politics.

Presbyterian Expansion into Ireland In the early seventeenth century, James I’s plantation policy brought Scottish tenants, some of whom were Presbyterians, onto landed estates in Ulster. Before this, the Reformation had made little progress among Ireland’s population, the vast majority of whom were Catholic.4 Some Scottish Presbyterian ministers took posts in the Church of Ireland, welcomed by sympathetic bishops who were desperately short of their own clergy. The Irish Articles of 1615 were more explicitly Calvinistic than the Thirty-Nine Articles, creating a sense of theological kinship. This so-called Prescopalian period ended with the efforts of William Laud to enforce conformity on the Church of Ireland. In 1634 the Irish Articles were replaced by the Thirty-Nine Articles. Scottish settlers were forced to swear the “Black Oath” and abjure the National Covenant or face fines or imprisonment. An Irish Catholic uprising in

presbyterians in britain and europe   121 1641, attempting to overthrow the plantation system, saw some four thousand settlers killed, and eight thousand subsequently died of disease and deprivation, deeply marking Irish Presbyterian identity. A Scottish army was financed to repress the rebellion, and in 1642 some chaplains and officers (who were also elders) formed the first Presbytery at Carrickfergus, the formal beginnings of Irish Presbyterianism. Applications to join the presbytery came from fifteen parishes. Scottish Presbyterians sent ministers to Ireland for short periods to teach and to maintain order in the churches. By 1660 there were over a hundred Presbyterian congregations in Ulster. After the restoration of Charles II, their fate mirrored that of the Presbyterians in Scotland. Their public worship was forbidden and their ministers subject to fines, and they resorted to secret conventicle meetings. The accession of the Catholic James II left their fate even more uncertain, but after his defeat by William of Orange at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690, Presbyterians consolidated their separate ecclesiastical and political identity. They were strong in the northeastern counties, particularly Antrim, Down, and Londonderry, and a General Synod was established.

English Origins The first Presbytery in England met at Wandsworth in November 1572, the year of John Knox’s death, and in the first half of the seventeenth century, many Puritans promoted Presbyterian forms of church government. By the 1640s, Presbyterians were increasingly influential in Parliament. Charles I’s failed attempt to impose episcopacy in Scotland also weakened it in England and set in motion events leading to the Civil War and the calling of the Westminster Assembly. The Presbyterian church order established in England after the Civil War was not enacted in many counties and was fully operational only in Lancashire and London, and a national general assembly was never convened. Cromwell decided against imposing the provisions of the Solemn League and Covenant throughout Britain because his army included many Independents and Baptists, and the Independents had a strong influence on the government. His fear was that repressive measures would fulfill John Milton’s warning: “New presbyter is but old priest writ large.”8 Regicide against Charles I in 1649 drove a wedge between the Presbyterians and the Independents. English Presbyterians followed their Scottish counterparts in retaining a strong commitment to the Crown. Although Presbyterianism remained on the statue book during the Commonwealth period, Cromwell attempted to create a comprehensive ecumenical established church. Ministers were given liberty to decide their own church order, be it Presbyterian, Independent, or even Baptist. In two-thirds of parishes no change of clergyman occurred. This policy of religious toleration in Cromwellian England, Wales, and Scotland was “exceptionally generous.”9 The attempt of Richard Baxter to unite Episcopalians, Presbyterians, and a few Independents in 1653 in the voluntary Worcester Association reflected a mood for reconciliation, but his scheme for “peace and unity” between Episcopalians and Presbyterians discussed with Archbishop

122   ian j. shaw James Ussher came to naught. The Presbyterian inclusive parish church model proved irreconcilable with the gathered church of the Independents, because, in the words of Philip Henry, it “unchurched the nation.”10 The restoration of Charles II in 1660 was supported by influential Presbyterians encouraged by the Declaration of Breda’s promises of toleration and “liberty to tender consciences.” Their hopes were disappointed, compounded by the defeat in Parliament of the Worcester House Declaration, a proposed agreement between Episcopalians and Presbyterians, which might have avoided the breach of 1662. Episcopalianism moved into the ascendancy. The Clarendon Code effectively excluded Catholics and nonAnglicans from national and local political life. The Act of Uniformity of 1662 required episcopal ordination for all ministers, “assent and consent” to the Prayer Book, and abjuration of the Solemn League and Covenant. Over two thousand clergy refused to comply and were forced to resign their livings. The “Great Ejection” created a predominantly Presbyterian “nonconformity”: of those who resigned or were ejected, only 194 were Congregationalists and nineteen were Baptists. To be a Presbyterian was now at best to be a second-class citizen, and often far worse. Further restrictions on freedom of  worship followed with the Conventicle Act (1664), and Five Mile Act (1665). Presbyterians resorted to ordaining their own ministers and building private chapels, effectively becoming separatist gathered churches. External political exigencies, such as during periodic wars with the Netherlands in the 1660s and 1670s, brought some periods of respite, but calmer waters were only truly reached after accession of William and Mary and the passing of the Toleration Act in 1689. This brought legal securities but ended hopes for a broad-based national church in England that included Presbyterians. While Presbyterianism became the established church in Scotland, in England, it was just one denomination among others. The Test and Corporation Acts continued to restrict the political status of Presbyterians until their repeal in 1828. During these changed times, Presbyterians sought dialogue with other nonconformists. The so-called Happy Union (1691) set out a modus vivendi between Presbyterian and Independent ministers, but significant discord between the two groups remained. During Queen Anne’s reign, the interests of Presbyterians and other dissenters were defended by the General Body of Protestant Dissenting Ministers. This body opposed the Occasional Conformity Act of 1711, and the 1714 Schism Act, which was an attempt to suppress dissenting schools and academies.

Eighteenth-Century Presbyterianism The Challenge of the Enlightenment The Enlightenment brought inevitable questions across Britain about the immutability and interpretation of the Westminster Standards. By 1719, two-thirds of all dissenters in England were Presbyterians, who had some eight hundred congregations. Despite the

presbyterians in britain and europe   123 Act of Union, English Presbyterianism largely followed a different theological trajectory to that in Scotland. While some, such as John Flavel, Edmund Calamy, and Matthew Henry, maintained Westminster orthodoxy, many ministers adopted a more open ­attitude on doctrinal matters. Some emphasized intellectual freedom and the reasonableness of religion; others inclined to Arminianism and considered Calvinism a term of abuse. Even Arianism and Socinianism were viewed leniently, as reflected in the result of the Salters Hall debate in 1719. Here London Nonconformist ministers by a narrow margin rejected demands that ministers be required subscribe to Trinitarian doctrine, although not all nonsubscribers were anti-Trinitarian. In 1732, just nineteen out of forty-four Presbyterian ministers were considered entirely free of heterodoxy. They resembled Anglican latitudinarians, focusing on morality, and rationalism, although often retaining traditional religious language. Even the title Presbyterian fell into disuse, and moderate or “rational” dissent was preferred. Presbyterianism lost its ascendancy among the dissenters and nominalism became commonplace. The new mood was reflected in the Presbyterian-funded Warrington Academy, founded in 1757. Here Joseph Priestley, a tutor from 1761 to 1767, encouraged rationalist theological advance under the name Unitarian. Christ was presented not as divine but as a reformer proclaiming truth and the need for good conduct. It was an optimistic and benevolent scheme, but also materialist and deterministic. Priestley’s approach split some Presbyterian congregations, and Unitarian Presbyterian membership declined. It revived in the nineteenth century, and by 1850, there were 217 Unitarian congregations, attracting prominent industrialists and producing a number of nonconformist Members of Parliament and Lord Mayors. Irish Presbyterians viewed themselves as a separate covenanted community operating in a different cultural mold to their Catholic and Episcopalian neighbors because of their Scottish origins and religious calendar, and Westminster Confessional basis. Here the advance of Enlightenment-influenced rational dissent was also notable. In 1698, the Synod of Ulster began to require ministers to subscribe to the Westminster Confession when licensed. Some “New Light” ministers, stressing personal judgment and natural reason, objected to this, substituting their own theological statements. A partial solution was found by placing nonsubscribing ministers in the Presbytery of Antrim. In 1726, when this Presbytery refused to require any evidence of doctrinal compliance by new ministers, the Synod broke off ministerial communion. However, an influential group within the Presbytery of Antrim retained informal links with the Synod of Ulster, and by 1800 over two-thirds of presbyteries belonging to the Synod did not require formal adherence to the Westminster Confession from licentiates and ministers. New Light thinking drew some toward Arminianism and others into Arianism. Conservative theology within Irish Presbyterianism strengthened after 1790, influenced by the Evangelical Revival. Henry Cooke worked to remove the nonsubscribing and mainly Arian minority from the Synod of Ulster in 1829. Those who withdrew formed the Remonstrant Synod of Ulster, which later joined with the Presbytery of Antrim and the Synod of Munster, forming the Non-subscribing Presbyterian Church. In Scotland the Westminster Confession was less publicly questioned, but some sought greater liberty of interpretation. The speculative theology of John Simson of

124   ian j. shaw Glasgow University inclined to latitudinarianism and liberalism. When accused of Arianism and Socinianism before the General Assembly, he was suspended from teaching, but allowed to retain his salary. To protestors like Thomas Boston, this was undue leniency. Ironically, the book Boston recommended to counter doctrinal laxity, The Marrow of Modern Divinity, was condemned by the General Assembly in 1720, despite its Reformed orthodoxy. Its supporters, the Marrow Men, stressed salvation by grace alone and the free offer of the gospel to all. Francis Hutcheson, another important influence on Moderate theology, was arraigned before the Presbytery of Glasgow in 1738 for teaching that knowledge of good and evil was possible without, and prior to, a knowledge of God.11 The “Scottish common-sense philosophy” propounded by Thomas Reid of Aberdeen, was another significant influence, widely accepted by both Moderates and Evangelicals and in Presbyterian seminaries in North America. Most scholars now argue that the Moderate party fully emerged only after 1750.12 Moderates were neither as superficial nor unorthodox as their critics claimed.13 They  accepted the Westminster Confession, but preferred moral philosophy and ­promoting social and political stability above doctrine. Influential figures were William Hamilton, professor of Divinity at Edinburgh, and William Robertson. Moderates shared Enlightenment concerns. They saw reason as essential to the pursuit of knowledge, prized learning and culture, and distrusted religious emotion and enthusiasm. The Moderate literati mixed formal Calvinism with Stoic ethics, moving less far theologically than the English radicals. Opposition to the Moderates came from the Popular Party, a loose coalition without monolithic doctrinal or ecclesiological views. They agreed on the authority of scripture and opposed the law of patronage, wanting ministers to be elected by popular vote. Some were close to the Moderates, while others promoted evangelical views and emphasized Calvinist doctrine and personal religious experience.14 Nevertheless, Enlightenment influences were not absent: John MacLaurin and John Erskine, the Popular Party’s most significant theologians, emphasized the reasonableness of Christianity and its ethical dimension. They agreed with Moderates that religion was the basis of social stability and were committed to liberty of conscience in religious and civil matters and to the Presbyterian establishment. From this group grew an increasingly confident evangelicalism that became highly influential in the nineteenth century.

Secession Despite the 130-year struggle to secure a Presbyterian establishment in Scotland, the eighteenth century witnessed an unenviable propensity toward division, reflecting Presbyterianism’s inherent tension between ecclesiastical authority and the right of personal judgment.15 In 1731, Ebenezer Erskine led calls to grant congregations the right to nominate and call their ministers. After he and three other protestors were suspended and removed from their charges, they formed the Associate Presbytery in December 1733. By 1742, the Associate Presbytery comprised twenty congregations. The Seceders

presbyterians in britain and europe   125 sought to balance experiential expression of the faith, with strong church-community discipline, and firm adherence to the Westminster Standards. In the face of growing Moderate influence such theological certitude appeared attractive, and rapid numerical growth followed. The Seceders split in 1747 over the oath requiring town burgesses to endorse “the religion presently professed within this realm.” Although primarily an anti-Catholic oath, some considered it an endorsement of the Church of Scotland. Two parties, the Burghers (the Associate Synod) and the Antiburghers (General Associate Synod), formed. These synods, in turn, divided toward the end of the eighteenth century. The New Lichts stressed individual conscience in religious practice, liberty on issues such as the role of the magistrate and opposed intolerance or imposition in religion. The Auld Lichts adhered unreservedly to the Westminster Confession and supported a national religious establishment. In 1839 the Auld Licht (Original) Burgher Synod joined with the Church of Scotland. The New Licht groups moved toward voluntarism, and in 1820 united together to form the United Secession Church. A second major secession occurred when Thomas Gillespie and five other ministers protested in 1752 against the imposition of a minister on a congregation against the wishes of its members. When Gillespie was deposed, his large congregation followed him. In 1761, he formed the Presbytery “for relief of oppressed Christian congregations,” which by 1774 numbered nineteen congregations. The Relief Church stressed the ­spiritual liberty of the church and freedom of conscience. The Secession Churches in Ireland were the product of these Scottish conflicts and shared their evangelical Calvinism. The first Secession congregation was established in 1746 in County Antrim. Although the burgess oath was not required in Ireland, the Burgher and Antiburgher division was still replicated. However, in 1818 both Irish Secession synods united to form the “Presbyterian Synod of Ireland, distinguished by the name Seceders.”

Revival Evangelicalism became a growing force in the eighteenth-century Church of Scotland as well as among the Seceders. It was largely Calvinistic, and John Wesley’s Arminian evangelicalism attracted fewer adherents in Scotland. It drew on a rich Reformation, Covenanting, Puritan, and Pietist tradition, with Dutch and Swiss Reformed scholastic influences. Evangelical Presbyterians held strongly to the Westminster Confession, preaching regularly on repentance and regeneration, freely offering the gospel to all, while still upholding limited atonement. Religious revival had occurred during Covenanting times, and signs of spiritual awakening were again reported in Northern Scotland in the 1720s and 1730s. The most notable revival was in Cambuslang and Kilsyth in 1742, a local expression of the transatlantic Evangelical Revival. The two principal ministers involved were William MacCulloch and James Robe. A key role was also played by the Anglican George

126   ian j. shaw Whitefield, an evangelical Calvinist. He was invited to help preside at the 1742 Presbyterian communion season at Cambuslang. Here estimated crowds of twenty thousand met in the open air. Evangelicalism became a movement of shared theology and experience crossing denominational boundaries. A number of converts eventually joined Associate Presbytery and Relief Church congregations where evangelical Calvinism was more widely accepted. MacCulloch and Robe conducted a significant transatlantic correspondence with Jonathan Edwards and followed his example in widely circulating revival accounts. At Cambuslang some three thousand were converted. The emotional and physical manifestations were notable: some cried out, or fell to the ground, while others trembled ­violently, which a number of Presbyterian observers found profoundly disturbing. MacCulloch and Robe argued that such experiential religion conformed with historic Presbyterian teaching, marrying Enlightenment and evangelical thinking, blending critical assessment with an openness to what the Spirit of God might do. The interface between the Enlightenment, Moderatism, and Evangelicalism in the period yielded complex results within Presbyterianism. In the less-theologically sympathetic context of English Presbyterianism, the Evangelical Revival had limited impact, but it proved instrumental in changing the face of Irish Presbyterianism later in the century. While other Presbyterian denominations owed their direct origins to the Reformation, in Wales the genesis of what became Presbyterianism was the Evangelical Revival. The Anglican curates Daniel Rowland and Howell Davies and the un-ordained Howell Harris saw pulpits closed to their evangelical message and resorted to field preaching, attracting large congregations, assisted periodically by Whitefield. Their movement adopted a Calvinistic theological scheme, rather than the Arminianism of Wesleyan Methodism. Calvinistic Methodist religious societies were initially designed to supplement the operation of the Anglican Church in Wales. The first General Association was held in 1742, and a modified form of Presbyterian order was adopted early in the nineteenth century.

Nineteenth-Century Presbyterianism Mission Presbyterianism in Scotland was slow to embrace the challenge of overseas mission. One reason was its own home-mission field, the Highlands, where illiteracy and folk religion often prevailed. In other places, Catholicism had a firm foothold. Attempts were made to promote Presbyterianism between 1560 and 1620, but in the eighteenth century concerted efforts were made to appoint Gaelic-speaking Presbyterian clergy, assisted by devout elders, the “Men.” They offered spiritual and moral oversight and led fellowship meetings. Itinerant catechists were appointed to teach the Shorter Catechism. The Gaelic Bible became a staple of family worship, and the Sabbath was strictly observed. When

presbyterians in britain and europe   127 Presbyterianism eventually became widely embraced in the Highlands, evangelicalism and the Westminster Standards were strongly affirmed. The Seceders made less headway: at the Disruption of 1843 the vast majority of Highland parishes sided with the Free Church. Presbyterianism advanced against a backdrop of the vast social change resulting from the Highland “clearances” undertaken by the new landlordry (often Episcopalian). Some Presbyterian ministers staunchly defended tenants’ rights. As Presbyterians moved into the so-called Evangelical Century, they increasingly responded to opportunities for mission both in Europe and further afield. Connections between the Presbyterian denominations in Britain and Reformed Churches in mainland Europe were historically significant. Francis Turretin’s Institutes of Theology (1680) had become the standard theological textbook for Presbyterian ministers. Connections with the Dutch Reformed Church were the strongest. As Scottish traders and workers scattered across Europe, they sought worship in familiar forms. The English Reformed Church of Amsterdam, founded at the beginning of the seventeenth century, was an Anglo-Scots church, following Presbyterian forms, and a Scots kirk was also started in Rotterdam. Scottish Presbyterian congregations were also founded in the eighteenth century in Utrecht, The Hague, Campvere, and Middelburg-Flushing, some of which lasted into the twentieth century. A kirk was started in Brussels before the Napoleonic Wars. These churches formed the Presbytery of Northern Europe. Presbyterianism also spread into Southern Europe. Robert Walter Stewart established a Scottish congregation on Malta in the late 1830s. He later worked with the Free Church in Leghorn, Italy, forging close connections with the Waldensian Church. Churches were also built in Turin and Florence in 1862. In France, Scottish Presbyterian churches were formed in Cannes (1854), Nice (1856), San Remo (1872), and Mentone (1868). Others started in Genoa, Venice, and Naples, and one was established in Rome in 1862. These eventually became the Presbytery of Southern Europe, although by the 1950s, only the congregations in Malta, Genoa, and Rome remained. Free Church of Scotland congregations were also formed in a number of these cities, as well as in Lisbon and Vienna. American Presbyterian missionaries to Greece formed their converts into the small Evangelical Church, a Presbyterian synod. Aside from the Highlands, the closest field for Scottish Presbyterian expansion was England. Some English Presbyterian churches had not become Unitarian, especially in the North, but most Presbyterian growth came through Scottish migrants forming their own churches. One congregation had existed in London since 1672, and others developed in places such as Liverpool, Manchester, and Newcastle. In 1836, the “Presbyterian Synod in England in connection with the Church of Scotland,” was formed. Only in 1830 did the Church of Scotland send its first cross-cultural overseas missionary. Alexander Duff was influenced by Scottish Enlightenment thinking in his belief that introducing Western rational inquiry and education to India’s higher castes would open their minds to the Christian message. Irish Presbyterians formed several overseas ­missionary societies, including the Foreign Mission (1840). The Free Church of Scotland took particular interest in mission to the Jews. The United Presbyterian Church (formed in Scotland in 1847) engaged in mission in Jamaica, Nigeria, South Africa, India, and

128   ian j. shaw China. Its best-known missionary was Mary Slessor, who worked in Calabar. The Welsh Calvinistic Methodist Church embraced overseas mission, especially in Assam and India. Its home mission work, begun in 1893, built halls for evangelism in thirty towns. The Irish Presbyterian Missionary Society distributed Bibles, taught reading and writing, and employed scripture readers and evangelists in the south and west of Ireland. The so-called Second Reformation met with strong opposition, and Catholic converts were limited. In the north, Ulster Presbyterianism flourished; between 1840 and 1900, 137 congregations were added. Thomas Chalmers developed his missional vision of the Godly Commonwealth in Glasgow after 1815, drawing on Reformation ideals, Enlightenment educational thinking, and evangelical conversionist hopes. He inculcated the values of hard work, thrift, and temperance among the poor and mobilized a large workforce of elders, deacons, and Sunday school teachers to bring spiritual and moral leavening to his parish through visitation and education. The St John’s Experiment, in which the church took on responsibilities for poor relief in the parish, proved controversial.16 Many younger ministers replicated Chalmers’s emphasis on preaching, visitation, and education, including Robert Murray McCheyne and Thomas Guthrie. Chalmers exercised a commanding pulpit ministry in Glasgow, where he held his congregation spellbound with his sermons. Norman MacLeod, minister of the Barony Church, Glasgow, was among Queen Victoria’s favorite preachers. The most scintillating in a bright galaxy of Scottish Presbyterian preachers was Edward Irving, who was shaped by the intuition and emotion of the Romantics. His ministry at the Caledonian Chapel in London attracted statesmen, philosophers, and leaders of fashionable society.

Disruption and Reunion The Disruption of the Church of Scotland in 1843 was one of the most significant events in nineteenth-century British history. After 1834, an evangelical majority in the General Assembly passed a series of reforming measures. The Veto Act, passed in 1834, proved pivotal, allowing congregations to prevent patrons from imposing ministers of whom they disapproved. Many seventeenth-century arguments were replayed in the Ten Years’ Conflict. Did ecclesiastical authority lie with the members, the presbyteries, the General Assembly, and ultimately “the sole Headship of the Lord Jesus” or with the patrons and the civil courts? A series of legal judgments went against the General Assembly, indicating that the civil law was above church law. In response, the General Assembly presented its Claim of Right in 1842, declaring the church’s spiritual independence, and asserting that courts could not force ministers to act contrary to the Word of God, the standards of the Church, and “the dictates of their consciences.”17 With Prime Minister Robert Peel’s government offering no legislative resolution, in 1843 over 450 out of some 1200 ministers chose to leave the “vitiated” Church of Scotland. Most evangelicals left, although some, such as Norman MacLeod, remained.

presbyterians in britain and europe   129 Between a third and a half of the membership of the Church of Scotland joined the new Church of Scotland “Free.” Growing liberal political sentiment, greater educational opportunities, and a widening franchise all played a role, with members demanding a greater say in their churches. The Free Church’s expansion was rapid: in 1851, it reported 555,700 attending its services, nearly matching the 566,409 attending the Church of Scotland. All but one of the pre-Disruption Church of Scotland overseas missionaries joined the Free Church. It had almost replicated the Established Church’s parochial ­system by 1847, and its schools were educating similar numbers—some forty-four ­thousand children. It had its own divinity college in Edinburgh, training over two ­hundred students, and had other colleges at Glasgow and Aberdeen. Nonetheless, upholding Free Church principles was costly—some tenants were evicted, and some laborers were dismissed from their jobs. Some landowners denied land for Free Church buildings and manses, forcing some congregations to meet in the open air. This victimization of Free Church adherents provoked a House of Commons Select Committee investigation in March 1847. The Church of Scotland, once a model for other established churches, was left as a minority denomination, unable to fulfill its parochial relief responsibilities. The Disruption shook the establishment churches in other parts of Britain. Although the Presbyterian Church in Ireland had enjoyed full ministerial communion with the Church of Scotland, it lent its full support to the Free Church as its true “sister Church.” The Presbyterian Synod in England had its own Disruption in 1843, and just eighteen churches stayed with the Church of Scotland. Sixty-three Free Church congregations became the Presbyterian Church in England. In 1876, the hundred congregations of the English Synod of the United Presbyterian Church of Scotland (formed in 1867), joined with the Presbyterian Church in England to form the Presbyterian Church of England, consisting of 270 congregations and fifty thousand members. It was designed as an English denomination, with its own theological college and English clergy. Other Presbyterian bodies also moved toward union. As Reformed and evangelical thinking strengthened in the Presbyterian Synod of Ulster, unqualified subscription to the Confession was restored in 1836. With this major obstacle removed, in 1840 the Synod united with the Seceders to form the Presbyterian Church in Ireland, with 433 congregations. It claimed half a million adherents by the late nineteenth century. In Scotland, the United Secession Church and the Relief Church came together in 1847 to form the United Presbyterian Church, which had over five hundred congregations and 336,000 attending its services in 1851. Presbyterians outside the establishment vastly outnumbered those within. Welsh Calvinistic Methodism continued its process of separating from Anglicanism and developing a Presbyterian identity. Its Confession of Faith, adopted in 1823, was based on the Westminster Confession. A modified form of Presbyterian church order was adopted: societies were grouped under associations, or synods, and in 1864 a General Assembly was formed. In 1884 the denomination had twenty-four Presbyteries, 819 chapels, and 122,107 communicants. The name Presbyterian Church of Wales was formally adopted in 1928. With 187,000 communicants, and a worshipping community

130   ian j. shaw of up to 500,000, it was in many ways the church in Wales. In 1925, some 75 percent of its congregations still used Welsh in their services. The Disruption prompted the Free Church leaders to associate with other Presbyterians and evangelicals in other denominations. Chalmers helped found the Evangelical Alliance in 1845. Scottish Presbyterians also inspired the formation of the Alliance of the Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian System in 1875.

Nineteenth-Century Revival Although most Presbyterians rejected the revivalism of the American Charles Finney, revival was a recurrent feature of nineteenth-century Presbyterianism. An awakening in 1839 in Kilsyth, and continued in Dundee, was led by the visiting preacher William Chalmers Burns. The revival of 1859, which the Presbyterian Church in Ireland actively promoted, was inspired by similar events in North America in 1857–1858. Some one hundred thousand converts were claimed, including some Roman Catholics, but others left Presbyterian churches to join Baptist and Brethren congregations. The revival was strongest in counties with large Presbyterian populations, notably Antrim, Down, and Londonderry. Large numbers of lapsed members were restored, and numerous nominal adherents became truly committed. Many participants reported a strong sense of assurance not previously experienced through Westminster orthodoxy. Others denounced the revival for promoting delusion, hysteria, and anti-intellectualism. As at Cambuslang, Presbyterian evangelicals sought to curb emotional excesses and physical manifestations. The revival encouraged Presbyterian preaching to be more directed at people’s emotions and hymns were increasingly used. The revival of 1859 also reached Wales and Scotland, and especially affected the Free Church and United Presbyterian Church. Growing openness to revivalism was seen in the welcome many Presbyterians gave to D. L. Moody’s visits from America to Scotland between 1873 and 1893, and to Ireland in the 1870s, even though his preaching contained minimal theological content or Calvinistic emphases. Ira D. Sankey’s practice of accompanying hymns and spiritual songs on his “kist o’whistles” was radically different to unaccompanied Psalmsonly singing and opened attitudes toward using musical instrumentation and hymns in services. Moody’s messages, emphasizing God’s love for sinners, offered an attractive, simpler gospel, in the face of growing higher criticism of Scripture. Others objected: John Kennedy, the Free Church minister of Dingwall, denounced his approach as “hyper-evangelism.”18

Social Concern and Theology Scottish Presbyterians remained committed to a public role for religion, sometimes combining conservative theology with a radical social agenda. In 1842, burgh reform created opportunities for the rising middle class, including many Presbyterian elders, to

presbyterians in britain and europe   131 be elected to town councils. Their influence in Glasgow has been called Glasgow’s Civil Gospel. They helped introduce strict licensing laws, improved housing and sanitation, and promoted the construction of the Loch Katrine reservoir to provide clean water.19 Thomas Guthrie pioneered Ragged Schools in Edinburgh, and Patrick Brewster, a ­minister in Paisley, even lent public support to Chartism, a working-class movement calling for parliamentary reform. By 1840, evangelicalism was the dominant force in Irish Presbyterianism, combining religious vitality, an ethos of hard work, self-help, sobriety, and political loyalty. Presbyterianism, now less distinctly the religion of Scottish exiles, attracted substantial numbers of working-class and middle-class adherents. Presbyterians generally supported political and social reform in nineteenth-century Ireland, including tenantrights movements. The confessional basis of nineteenth-century Scottish Presbyterianism came under increasing pressure. In 1831 John McLeod Campbell was deposed from the Church of  Scotland for teaching that the death of Christ had achieved a “universal pardon.” Thomas Erskine of Linlathen, an influential layman, rejected static Calvinistic dogmatism for broader views, influenced by Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Thomas Carlyle. Edward Irving’s theology moved from a pessimistic premillennialism to openness to an early form of Pentecostalism. After being removed from his pastorate at the Caledonian Chapel, he formed the Catholic Apostolic Church. Just before his early death in 1834, he was found guilty of heresy by the Church of Scotland for suggesting that in his human nature Christ was capable of sinning.20 The Seceders also faced challenges to Westminster orthodoxy. In 1840 James Morison was removed from office for declaring limited atonement “spurious Calvinism.” With three other ministers influenced by Charles Finney, he formed the Evangelical Union in 1843, which by 1897, numbered ninety congregations. Despite these cases, into the 1860s the majority of Scottish Presbyterians remained loyal to the Westminster Confession. The next fifty years, however, saw significant ­doctrinal controversy. Increasing numbers of Presbyterian divinity students studied in Germany, encountering teachings that were hard to reconcile with the Confession. The veracity of major orthodox doctrines was questioned. Surprisingly, given its predominantly evangelical roots, the Free Church came under special pressure. In 1881, William Robertson Smith was removed from his chair at the Aberdeen Free Church College for supporting elements of the Wellhausen Old Testament documentary hypothesis. Such heresy trials failed, however, to halt the advances of liberal theology. This context made the passing of two Declaratory Acts—by the United Presbyterian Church in 1879 and the Free Church of Scotland in 1892—profoundly significant for Presbyterianism. They were subsequently incorporated into the constitutions of the United Free Church (1900) and the reunited Church of Scotland (1929). The Declaratory Acts permitted subscription to the Confession while allowing liberty on aspects that did not enter into “the substance of the Reformed Faith.” This resolved the scruples of some ministers over issues such as the magistrate’s role, but what pertained to the “substance” of the Reformed faith was not defined. In protest a few churches and about four thousand

132   ian j. shaw members seceded in 1893 to form the Free Presbyterian Church. The principle had been conceded that individual conscience could override the Westminster formularies. It was the beginning of the end of confessionalism, but it opened the door to wider union.

Twentieth-Century Presbyterianism Reunion In Scotland, the reunion of the Church of Scotland was a dominant issue early in the twentieth century, although the tendency toward Presbyterian fragmentation remained. The century began in optimistic fashion for Scottish Presbyterians with the merger of the 598 congregations of the United Presbyterian Church (UPC) with 1,068 Free Church congregations, creating the United Free Church (UFC) in 1900. Its combined membership was about half a million. The merger had precedents in Ireland and England. Formal negotiations had begun in 1863, but faced strong resistance, especially from the Highlands. They were renewed in 1897, even though the barrier to union with the Church of Scotland had been removed in 1874 with the abolition of patronage in the established church. The UPC and the Free Church were closer in terms of doctrine, and Free Church advocates of union were able to overcome their reservations about the UPC’s strong disestablishment position. Some ministers and their congregations refused to join the UFC at its formation, ­continuing the Free Church’s existence. They believed that the union was a betrayal of unreserved commitment to the Westminster Confession and the vision of an Established Church recognized by the state. The new UFC became mired in dispute after a court ruled that the continuing Free Church was the true heir to the previous denomination’s properties. Resolution came with the Churches (Scotland) Act 1905, and the executive commission established under its provisions spent the next four years distributing the property. In 1904 the continuing Free Church contained around 125 congregations and some seventy thousand members, mainly in the Highlands and in Gaelic-speaking congregations in the Lowlands. By 1925, congregations had increased to 170, and Free Church missions were operating in India, South Africa, and Peru. Its worshippers exclusively sang unaccompanied Psalms. The UFC was broadly evangelical in its theology, but some of its ministers made liberal concessions to higher criticism and science. Its most notable theologians included James Denney and H. R. Mackintosh. The union of 1900 proved a temporary stage en route to wider Presbyterian union. The growing conviction that Scotland did not need two large and similar Presbyterian bodies led to discussions with the Church of Scotland beginning in 1909. The chief architect of union on the Church of Scotland side was John White, who sought to return the national church to centrality in Scottish society. The Articles Declaratory approved in 1921, and declared lawful by Parliament, set out that the new church would not be subject to civil authority with respect to doctrine, worship, government, or discipline. The Westminster Confession was accepted as the “principal

presbyterians in britain and europe   133 subordinate standard of the Church of Scotland.”21 Issues of buildings and finance were resolved in a 1925 act, freeing the church from state responsibility or intervention. In 1929, the Church of Scotland “by law established” was created. The reunited Church of Scotland was a “national” territorial church, which had a duty to bring religious ordinances to every parish of Scotland, but it was not an established church in its former sense, even though it had been created by act of Parliament. Many of the demands of the 1842 Claim of Right were granted. Ministers were elected by individual congregations and formally ratified by the local presbytery. Reunion left the Church of Scotland with significant duplication of buildings, and the process of reducing this oversupply was continuing over eighty years later. Ecumenism was high on its agenda, and it joined the World Council of Churches at its inception in 1948. But unions with other non-Presbyterian denominations proved elusive, despite discussions with the Church of England in the 1930s and 1950s. As in 1900, not all accepted the 1929 union. A group of congregations, with fourteen thousand members, continued their existence as the United Free Church. In 2014, the United Free Church had fifty-nine congregations, three presbyteries, and sixty ordained ministers. The smaller Presbyterian churches in Scotland experienced various divisions. The post-1900 Free Church, with some hundred congregations in 2011, underwent ­division in 2000, when a group of ministers formed the Free Church of Scotland (Continuing). By 2015, the Free Church (Continuing) had thirty-four congregations. The Free Presbyterian Church also suffered division in 1989: those who left formed the Associated Presbyterian Churches. In 1928, the Presbyterian Church of Wales joined the Alliance of the Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian System. It experienced the same late twentiethcentury decline in membership experienced by other Presbyterian denominations. Membership dropped from 38,000 in 1980 to 24,000 in 2015, when it included 620 congregations in eighteen presbyteries. By 1921 the Presbyterian Church of England had grown to 353 congregations and almost eighty-four thousand members. Seventeenth-century hopes for union were revived, and in 1972, in very different circumstances, it joined with the Congregational Church in England and Wales, to form the United Reformed Church. It was the first major British ecumenical union, which was extended in 1981 after most of the Churches of Christ in Britain also joined. This brought acceptance of a plurality of modes of baptism. By 1990, the United Reformed Church had about 1,800 churches, and 120,000 members, but it was beginning to experience significant numerical decline: membership had fallen below sixty thousand in 2015.

Political and Social Change After Roman Catholics were given the vote and allowed to sit in Parliament in 1829, the governance of an overwhelmingly Catholic Ireland became a dominant political issue. Irish Presbyterians were strongly Protestant and rejected the Home Rule policies of Prime Minister W. E. Gladstone, fearing, as their 1886 General Assembly declared,

134   ian j. shaw “the ascendancy of one class and creed in matters pertaining to religion, education, and civil administration.”22 As the measure became more likely, in 1913 the General Assembly again overwhelmingly rejected it. Over 230,000 signed covenants opposing Home Rule, which was portrayed as submitting to rule by the Roman Catholic Church. Some threatened armed resistance. The eventual political outcome was partition rather than a united Ireland. The General Assembly accepted this as an undesirable result, but as the lesser of two evils. A doubleminority situation was created—a Protestant minority in the south (including fiftythousand members of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland), and a Catholic minority in the north. Initially, Presbyterians in the Irish Free State faced severe harassment, associated with the Unionist label. Between 1916 and 1922, membership fell by 45 percent in the Cork Presbytery, 44 percent in the Munster Presbytery, and 16 percent in the Dublin Presbytery. Some Presbyterians moved north, others emigrated. The continued Irish Republican Army campaign of violence in the north created great instability, until in 1922 the Irish Free State government was persuaded by Ernest Blythe, the only Protestant serving in it (he was born to a Presbyterian mother in the north), to abandon its destabilization tactics in Northern Ireland. Nevertheless, decades of sectarian suspicion and hostility ensued. By 1985, there were 339,000 Presbyterians in Northern Ireland, and fourteen thousand in the Irish Republic. Throughout the “Troubles” (1960s–1998), Presbyterians predominantly backed Unionism (retaining the Union between Northern Ireland and the United Kingdom). More settled conditions in the Irish Republic allowed Presbyterians there to be comfortable being both Irish and Presbyterian. In Ulster, Presbyterians played their part in the discriminations against Catholics in education, housing, and employment. Critics protested that the Bible and the Westminster Confession appeared to be wrapped in a Union flag, whereas Catholicism often became synonymous with the Irish tricolor. More open Roman Catholic attitudes to ecumenism in the 1960s afforded increased opportunity for religious dialogue with Presbyterian leaders. This was vigorously opposed by Ian Paisley, who had formed the Free Presbyterian Church of Ulster in 1951. Paisley served as its Moderator from 1951 to 2008, and in 2017, it claimed fifteen thousand members. In 1966, the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Ireland declared itself  opposed to all “unfair religious discrimination.”23 As the Troubles deepened, Presbyterians became more conservative, and in 1980, the Irish Presbyterian Church formally withdrew from the World Council of Churches. Politically, most Presbyterians supported the Ulster Unionist Party, until in 1971, Paisley founded the Democratic Unionist Party, which he led for the next thirty-seven years. Its policies were strongly Protestant and theologically and morally conservative. It consistently opposed p ­ owersharing proposals. By 2004, it was the largest Unionist party in Northern Ireland. In 2006, against expectations, it entered into power-sharing government with Sinn Féin, a Republican party seeking a united Ireland. Paisley served as first minister of Northern Ireland in 2007–2008, and Sinn Féin’s Martin McGuinness was deputy first minister. In Scotland, Presbyterianism’s political and social influence declined after the 1960s. Before then, the Church of Scotland retained an influence on local government, and

presbyterians in britain and europe   135 local magistrates helped maintain a “Presbyterian” Sabbath, with theaters and pubs closed on Sundays and restricted licensing laws. The 1976 Licensing (Scotland) Act, opposed by the Church of Scotland, reflected changing times, and extended opening hours to Sundays. Some of Northern Ireland’s sectarian divisions were replicated in Scotland, especially in the west where many Irish migrants settled. A significant number of Presbyterians were members of the strongly Protestant Orange Order. Some Presbyterian parish ­ministers worked with Catholic priests to defuse tensions. Others, including John White in the 1920s, advocated ending Roman Catholic migration into Scotland and deporting Irish Catholic migrants who were receiving state social security payments. The reunited Church of Scotland constructed new churches in areas of urban redevelopment and in new towns. Attempts at outreach included the Forward Movement of 1931, and the Tell Scotland movement of 1952. The Iona Community of George MacLeod sought new expressions of mission, spirituality, and training. Overseas mission remained an important part of the work of the Church of Scotland, and in 1960 there were some three hundred missionaries working in eighteen different fields. Changing social attitudes were reflected among Presbyterians. Women were ordained to the ministry of Word and Sacrament in the Church of Scotland after 1969, and about a third of Church of Scotland ministers were women by 2017. In 2004, Alison Elliot became the first woman to serve as Moderator of the General Assembly. The first female Presbyterian minister in Ireland was ordained in 1976, although forty years later, only twenty-one out of 345 active ministers were women. The Presbyterian Church of Wales ordained its first female minister in 1978. The issue of sexual orientation became a major challenge for the Church of Scotland in 2009, when the Presbytery of Aberdeen upheld the call of an openly gay minister. The General Assembly approved a report in favor of same-sex marriage in 2017 after several years of debate during which a number of evangelical ministers and congregations withdrew from the denomination over the issue.

Theological Change Adherence to the Westminster Confession remained a firm principle of the Free Church of Scotland, the Free Presbyterian Church, and the Associated Presbyterian Churches. All  claimed to be the heirs to the Reformed church in Scotland in ­doctrine, worship, government and discipline. In Ireland, the successful evangelistic campaigns of W. P. Nicholson in the 1920s reflected the openness of some Presbyterians to uncompromising preaching shaped by American fundamentalism. Commitment to confessional orthodoxy left some suspicious of close links with the post-1929 Church of Scotland. The attempts of Ernest Davey, a professor at the Presbyterian College in Belfast, to restate the gospel in the thought forms of the contemporary world led to his trial for ­heresy in 1926. His acquittal provoked the formation of the Irish Evangelical Church (later the Irish Evangelical Presbyterian Church). Two years later the Irish Presbyterian Church modified its terms of subscription to the Westminster Confession of Faith.

136   ian j. shaw Despite several attempts to change it, and evidence of a growing latitude of interpretation, the Westminster Confession remained the principal subordinate theological standard of the Church of Scotland. Liberal theological influence grew, reflected in the receptivity to it demonstrated by John Tulloch, and neo-Hegelianism was promoted by Edward Caird and his brother John. The theologian John Baillie eventually sought a balance between liberal and Barthian positions. Neo-orthodoxy gained significant ground in Scottish Presbyterian circles, influenced by Thomas F. Torrance, who had studied under Barth. Both liberalism and Barthianism tended to be more conservative in Scotland than in mainland Europe. An evangelical tradition within the Church of Scotland continued through the twentieth century, although it often inclined toward liberal evangelicalism. A conservative evangelical tradition, with an emphasis on biblical expository preaching was encouraged by leaders such as William Still, who in 1971 formed the Crieff Fraternal, a brotherhood of conservative evangelicals who met for support, encouragement, and prayer.

Changing Patterns of Church Attendance Church of Scotland attendance grew in the 1950s and 1960s, officially peaking at 1.32 million in 1957. In 1978, all but fifty thousand of Scotland’s Presbyterians were members of the Church of Scotland, some 1.1 million in total. But, in 1989, a watershed was passed when the percentage of Scottish churchgoers attending the Church of Scotland was equaled by the number of non–Church of Scotland attendees. Soon Roman Catholic attendance exceeded that of the Church of Scotland. Thereafter, Church of Scotland attend­ ance declined at a rapid rate, down from 272,700 in 1980 to under 200,000 by the start of the new millennium. Formal membership tended to remain higher, but it was also declining. This was mirrored among the other Presbyterian denominations in Scotland, where attendance dropped from 27,000 to 17,900 between 1980 and 1995. In 2016, the Presbyterian Church in Ireland had some 230,000 members belonging to 545 congregations throughout Ireland, a decline in membership of some 40 percent from 1975. The office of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches was moved in the 1920s from Edinburgh to Geneva. The global geography of Presbyterianism was shifting. New Presbyterian denominations emerged in Europe in the late twentieth century, all of which remained small. In 1969, the International Presbyterian Church was founded in England. In 1996, the Evangelical Presbyterian Church in England and Wales was established. Other Presbyterian Churches in the evangelical tradition could be found in Portugal, Spain, and Ukraine.

Conclusion Late twentieth-century European Presbyterianism was certainly different from that of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, although significant points of continuity

presbyterians in britain and europe   137 remained. Many of the challenges it faced were over the degree to which change was  ­permissible, especially in the light of the intellectual pressures created by the Enlightenment’s emphasis on autonomous human reason—a challenge all confessional churches faced during this period. Presbyterians wrestled with whether their religious tradition should adapt or evolve in changing intellectual, social, and political contexts or remain fixed unshakably to the wording of seventeenth-century formularies created in very different times. The Declaratory Acts of the late nineteenth century were a pivotal moment, allowing ministers to subscribe without agreeing with the entire Confession. These enabled the majority to continue to accept the Westminster Confession as the principal subordinate rule for the church after Scripture, while permitting an element of liberty in interpretation of certain issues. Others objected that the Declaratory Acts enabled conscience and personal interpretation to be placed above the Confession and were, therefore, unconscionable. Such differences make the  task of defining what is meant by Presbyterianism more challenging. Yet the Confession’s endurance also points to the lasting achievement of its seventeenth-­century authors. Regional variations in theological trajectories have been notable—Arianism became prevalent in English Presbyterianism and to a degree in Ireland, but less so in Scotland. Only in Scotland did Presbyterianism fully become the order for the national established church. Most Presbyterians in Scotland and England were enthusiastic about ecumenism; the Northern Irish were less so. Inherent tensions within Presbyterianism have contributed to division, especially between its democratic dimension of personal and local expression and its hierarchical structure of presbytery, synod, and Assembly; between spiritual independence and commitment to a role for the magistrate in the support and maintenance of religion; and between confessionalism and liberty for ministers and members to interpret the scriptures. A cloud looming over European Presbyterianism by the early twenty-first century was the issue of declining membership and attendance, which, if continued at the rate reported by some denominations, would see them ceasing to exist within seventy-five years. Nonetheless, Presbyterianism has proved its capacity to survive during centuries of enormous political, industrial, intellectual, and, more recently, technological change. The religious and cultural influence of Presbyterianism over the centuries has undoubtedly been very significant in a number of parts of Europe. What shape that will take in the next centuries will depend on the balance maintained between continuity and change.

Notes 1. This chapter focuses on European churches that are self-designated Presbyterian. They have adopted a Presbyterian form of church government and a system of presbyteries, ­synods, and assemblies. Other churches in Europe were influenced by the Reformed ­tradition, such as the Reformed Churches in Holland, Germany, Switzerland, Hungary, and France, and enjoyed significant theological kinship, but did not overtly adopt the Presbyterian label.

138   ian j. shaw 2. “Privy kirks” were clandestine meetings for Bible study and worship. In the later ­seventeenth century, the term “conventicles” was increasingly used. 3. George D. Henderson, Presbyterianism (Aberdeen, Scotland: Aberdeen University Press, 1954), 136. 4. On the Westminster Assembly, see chapter 3 [in this Handbook]. 5. Henderson, Presbyterianism, 136. 6. Quoted in Andrew Drummond, The Kirk and the Continent (Edinburgh: Saint Andrew Press, 1956), 99. 7. John H. S. Burleigh, A Church History of Scotland (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1960), 280. 8. David Masson, Life of John Milton, 1643–1649 (London: Macmillan, 1873), 3:469. 9. Neil H. Keeble, The Restoration: England in the 1660s (Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 2002), 6. 10. Philip Henry, Diaries and Letters, ed. M. H. Lee (London: Kegan Paul, Trench, 1882), 277. 11. Quoted in Burleigh, Scotland, 295. 12. See Richard Sher, Church and University in the Scottish Enlightenment (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1985). 13. See Ian  D.  L.  Clark, “Moderatism and the Moderate Party in the Church of Scotland ­1752–1805” (PhD diss., Cambridge University, 1963). 14. See John McIntosh, Church and Theology in Enlightenment Scotland: The Popular Party, 1740–1800 (Edinburgh: Tuckwell Press, 1998). 15. Anthony T. Q. Stewart, The Narrow Ground, Aspects of Ulster, 1609–1969 (London: Faber, 1977), 98–99. 16. On Chalmers, see Stewart  J.  Brown, Thomas Chalmers and the Godly Commonwealth (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1982). 17. “The Claim of Right,” in The Principal Acts of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland, Convened at Edinburgh, May 19, 1842 (Edinburgh, 1842), 35–48. 18. John Kennedy, Hyper-Evangelism: “Another Gospel,” Though A Mighty Power (Edinburgh: Duncan Grant & Co.), 1874. 19. See Callum Brown, “To Be Aglow with Civic Ardours: The ‘Godly Commonwealth’ in Glasgow, 1843–1914,” Records of the Scottish Church History Society 26 (1996): 169–195. 20. See Columba Graham Flegg, Gathered under Apostles: A Study of the Catholic Apostolic Church (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1992). 21. See Douglas Murray, Freedom to Reform: The Articles Declaratory of the Church of Scotland, 1921 (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1993). The “Articles Declaratory” are in appendix 1. The Westminster Confession was subordinate to the Bible. 22. Quoted in R. Finlay Holmes, Our Irish Heritage (Belfast: Presbyterian Church in Ireland, 1985), 134. 23. Minutes of General Assembly of the Irish Presbyterian Church, 1966, 58, quoted in Holmes, Irish Presbyterian Heritage, 171.

Bibliography Brown, Stewart J. The National Churches of England, Ireland, and Scotland, 1801–1846. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2001. Brown, Stewart  J. Thomas Chalmers and the Godly Commonwealth. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1982.

presbyterians in britain and europe   139 Burleigh, John H. S. A Church History of Scotland. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1960. Cameron, Nigel M. de S., ed. Dictionary of Scottish Church History and Theology. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993. Drummond, Andrew. The Kirk and the Continent. Edinburgh: Saint Andrew Press, 1956. Henderson, George D. Presbyterianism. Aberdeen, Scotland: Aberdeen University Press, 1954. Holmes, Andrew. The Shaping of Ulster Presbyterian Belief and Practice, 1770–1840. Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2006. Holmes, R.  Finlay. Our Irish Presbyterian Heritage. Belfast: Presbyterian Church in Ireland, 1985. McIntosh, John. Church and Theology in Enlightenment Scotland: The Popular Party, ­1740–1800. Edinburgh: Tuckwell Press, 1998. Murray, Douglas. Freedom to Reform: The Articles Declaratory of the Church of Scotland, 1921. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1993. Williams, William. Welsh Calvinistic Methodism: A Historical Sketch of the Presbyterian Church of Wales. London: Publishing Office of the Presbyterian Church of England, 1884.

chapter 8

Pr esby ter i a ns i n A fr ica Benhardt Yemo Quarshie

Introduction It is now widely acknowledged that the center of gravity of Christianity has shifted from the northern to the southern continents, and that Africa has been a key element in this shift.1 Missiologist Andrew Walls has underscored the critical role of African Christianity in determining the future nature and course of Christianity.2 Various Christian groups, churches, and denominations in Africa, including Presbyterians, are, therefore, very significant for the future of the global church.

An Overview of the Context and of a Worldwide Family Africa: A Varied Continent Africa is a vast and varied continent containing many countries, peoples, and languages. Different political, socioeconomic, and religious conditions have prevailed and continue to hold sway on the continent. Africa is a huge continent with a very large population (over 1.28 billion) made up of thousands of tribal groups and many immigrants from Europe.3 The diverse peoples of Africa speak many different languages, including Shona, Hausa, Zulu, Swahili, Amharic, Ovambo, and Oromo.4 Some of these many African languages have not yet been reduced to writing. In addition to the many indigenous African languages, Africa has inherited other languages as a result of its colonial past, notably, English, French, and Portuguese. Many problems confront Africa today for which

142   benhardt Yemo Quarshie Africans are daily seeking answers. To make a positive impact in the African context, Christians, including Presbyterians, must respond to these problems. Socially, Africa must contend with problems generated by modernity and its allied forces, such as urbanization, secularization, and globalization, which have led to the undermining of the traditional family system and the sense of communalism.5 Many families, nuclear and extended, have been destroyed, which has produced street children, immorality, teenage pregnancy, the spread of diseases such as HIV and AIDS, the abuse of women and children, spousal murders, and other negative developments. Education is in jeopardy in many African countries, and standards keep falling. The traditional patterns of socializing children have suffered setbacks, and globalization has contributed to many people feeling uncertain about their purpose on planet Earth. Poverty levels keep rising, despite all the poverty alleviation or reduction and social safety-net programs that have been implemented all over the continent for decades.6 Meanwhile Africans are degrading the environment to enrich themselves, especially through illegal mining, or simply to survive the harsh realities of life. The problems of life, as well as greed, have also led many people, including Presbyterians, in their pursuit of materialism, to view bribery and corruption as acceptable. Socially, African countries and communities are under extreme pressure from these negative trends. The political situation of Africa is also poor. For the last two decades or so, a wind of democratic change has been blowing over Africa, but a great deal of instability remains. Democracies on the continent are still relatively young and are not yet fully entrenched. Conflicts within and between countries are occurring in virtually every subregion of the continent; civil wars and dictatorships are common. The presidents of some African nations have remained in power for decades and have manipulated elections to remain in office. Because of all these developments, many people have been displaced; some are refugees in other African countries; others are refugees in foreign lands. South Sudan, Libya, Somalia, Central African Republic, Cameroon, and the Democratic Republic of Congo have especially serious political problems. Africa’s political problems appear to be perpetual. Africa’s economic problems are also well known. Its heavy debt burden continues to weigh on Africa, and there is no relief in sight that would really make a difference. The relief being provided is in many ways more cosmetic than impactful. Most African economies continue to be driven by aid or loans, and it is doubtful that their dispensers truly want the status quo to change. Certainly, the current world economic order is not aimed at helping Africa out of its dire economic state; yet continuing this order will condemn Africa to economic hell. The vibrancy of Africa’s religious scene is palpable. That Africa has always been and remains religiously pluralistic is undisputable. Africa’s primal religions vary widely.7 African traditional religion features “several gods and several lords.” Christianity on the continent is also multifarious, and different brands of Islam also exist in Africa. Adherents of Judaism and Eastern religions, such as Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, and Baha’ism, are increasing in number.8 Christianity and Islam are undoubtedly the most popular religions on the continent, and they continue to make inroads into what had

Presbyterians in Africa   143 hitherto been the strongholds of African traditional religion. Africa’s primal religions have nevertheless remained resilient, and they still have adherents all over the continent, although some do not admit that they are involved in these religions.9 Many Africans, including some Presbyterians, live in the two worlds of Christianity and African traditional religion. In public, they profess the Christian faith, which brings them respectability, but when they are confronted with a crisis that they cannot decipher, they look to Africa’s primal religions for a remedy. Religion has, unfortunately, also been a source of problems for Africa. Religious extremism has been rife and has led to open conflict and even civil war in Central African Republic, Algeria, and other nations. Conflicts have also been generated between different religious communities, resulting in the deaths of many people. A tragic example was the Nigerian civil war of the mid 1960s in which animosity between Christians and Muslims was a major factor. Moreover, religion has caused problems in numerous homes as people have neglected their family responsibilities to pursue various religious activities. Religion has also had a negative impact on productivity in many African countries because many people unlawfully take time off from their jobs, especially ones in the public sector, during working hours to participate in religious programs. Sadly, some have made religion into a business that exploits others to enrich themselves, as well as to pursue immoral sexual activities.10 This portrayal of Africa briefly underscores the depressing elements of the African context in which its Presbyterians live and function. These negative elements ultimately call the self-identity of Africans into question, which undermines their self-understanding as people created in the image of God and therefore of equal worth to him, as are other members of the human race. These problems make many Africans feel so backward and underdeveloped that they do not want to be Africans. Many Africans seek to take on other peoples’ values and sense of identity to pursue progress and development as defined by non-Africans. These negative elements and their implications for Africans’ self-worth pose a great challenge to Presbyterians in Africa. In these dire conditions, Presbyterians in Africa must wrestle with the Bible so that its message, centered on “Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Cor. 2:2), becomes good news for people facing these problems.

Presbyterians: A Global Family Presbyterians live all over the world, and they trace their origins to the Reformation, especially to John Calvin and John Knox. Presbyterians worldwide, including Presbyterians in Africa, are known for certain beliefs, values, and practices. Nevertheless, the African context leads Presbyterians to understand and experience life and express their convictions and traits in unique ways. Despite its variegated nature, certain features of the Reformation cut across its many different expressions. Its two key features are that salvation comes only through faith in

144   benhardt Yemo Quarshie Jesus Christ and is by the grace of God alone, and that Scripture is the sole authority for Christian belief and practice. These basic characteristics of the Reformed tradition have led to the preeminence of four phrases in Reformed thought and action: “Christ alone” (solus Christus), “faith alone” (sola fide), “grace alone” (sola gratia), and “Scripture alone” (sola scriptura). These basic identity markers are, however, intertwined with other critical aspects of Reformed tradition, and faith, grace, and Scripture ultimately all focus on Christ. These beliefs and ideas continue to inform the life and ministry of Presbyterians today, including those in Africa. Presbyterianism is thus very well represented on the continent of Africa, though with its own unique nuances. But how did Presbyterianism arrive in and spread throughout Africa?

Presbyterians and Africa The Reformation essentially came to Africa as part of the missionary enterprise. The Reformation in Europe initially did not demonstrate keen interest in missionary work. The predominant view was that God in his sovereignty would convert people as he saw fit. Those he had predestined for salvation, he would bring into his kingdom in his own time and without human assistance.11 Subsequently, however, as various branches of the church engaged in mission work and established missionary bodies, Reformed denominations got involved. The activities of English and Dutch missionary societies, including the Baptist Missionary Society, founded in 1792; the London Missionary Society, established in 1795; the Netherlands Missionary Society, formed in 1797; and the Church Missionary Society, created in 1799, were exemplary. The work of these missionary societies and the denominations that birthed them inspired the creation of other mission bodies whose work later introduced Presbyterianism into Africa.

The Arrival and Spread of Presbyterianism: Some Country Stories Most of the countries in Africa have some type of Presbyterian presence. Some denominations do not bear the name Presbyterian, but their governance systems are Presbyterian. To highlight the Presbyterian presence on the continent, here is a brief chronological recounting of the stories of a few countries.

Gold Coast/Ghana The Evangelical Missionary Society of Basel, popularly known as the Basel Mission, was formed in 1815 by people from various backgrounds living in a Swiss city full of philanthropic organizations. These pietists were international and nondenominational in

Presbyterians in Africa   145 scope and came from different countries, including Switzerland, Germany, and France. The key institution that served as the base for their missionary work, the Basel Missionary College, trained people from numerous countries and for many other missionary bodies, such as the Bremen Mission and the Church Missionary Society. One of the areas that the Basel Mission saw as ripe for service was West Africa. The mission sent missionaries to Sierra Leone in January 1823 and to Liberia in 1828. When these undertakings were unsuccessful, the mission turned its attention to the Gold Coast.12 The first four missionaries of the Basel Mission arrived in the Gold Coast in 1828 at Osu (Christiansborg). Within months, three of them had died, and the fourth one died in 1831. In 1832, a second batch of three missionaries, two Danes and a German, was sent. Only Andreas Riis survived, and he relocated from the coast to Akropong on the Akuapem Ridge, where the weather was more favorable. Success was still hard to achieve, and so in 1843, the Basel Mission changed its strategy and recruited former slaves from the West Indies to do missionary work in the Gold Coast. A group of six families and three bachelors, all but one from Jamaica, constituted the first Christian community in Akropong. Out of this community developed the Basel Mission Church, which later became the Presbyterian Church of the Gold Coast/Ghana. After people were converted, they supported the mission work by serving as interpreters, Bible translators, itinerant preachers and evangelists, teachers, catechists, and ordained ministers. Through the support and work of these local people, the Basel Mission church spread all over, especially to the southern part of the Gold Coast. Later, the northern part was also evangelized, so today the Presbyterian Church of Ghana has congregations all over the country. The spread of the Basel Mission church was, however, also aided by nonconverts. Chiefs or traditional leaders often supported the missionaries; they readily welcomed them because they quickly identified them with development and progress and therefore gave them land for their missionary endeavors. This in no small measure facilitated the mission’s work, especially because the local people often took cues from their rulers about what was or was not acceptable. This story of the Basel Mission in the Gold Coast/ Ghana is similar to what happened in other parts of the continent. Meanwhile, as the Basel Mission pursued its efforts, the Bremen Mission (a North German Mission Society) started working in the Ewe-speaking area in the eastern part of the Gold Coast. The Bremen Mission was established in 1836 by Lutheran and Reformed Christian mission associations in Hamburg. In 1847, missionaries arrived at Peki and thereafter focused on the Ewe people living in modern Ghana and in Togo. This led to the birth of Presbyterian denominations in Ghana (Ewe, later Evangelical, Presbyterian Church, Ghana) and in Togo (Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Togo). These denominations remain close and often hold joint meetings. In 1903, the Basel Mission, which had been active among the Ewe, decided to turn over its stations among the Ewe to the Bremen Mission. The Evangelical Presbyterian Church, Ghana, however, extended its mission work among the Ewe who had spread to other parts of Ghana, especially after the British Trans-Volta Togoland became part of independent Ghana in

146   benhardt Yemo Quarshie 1957. Ghana, therefore, has two major Presbyterian churches simply because of the work of different missionary bodies. Moreover, a split occurred in the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, Ghana, when some charismatic members left to form what was initially the Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Ghana but later became the Global Evangelical Church. It is thus not uncommon for African countries to have more than one Presbyterian denomination; other examples are Cameroon and Malawi.

Nigeria Presbyterianism in Nigeria began in 1846 through the work of Scottish missionaries and the traditional leaders of Calabar. The church began as the Presbytery of Biafra, after devising a constitution in 1858; it then became Synod of Biafra in 1921. In 1945, a new constitution turned it into the Presbyterian Church of Biafra, and in 1952, the name was changed to Presbyterian Church of Eastern Nigeria. When Nigeria obtained independence in 1960, it became the Presbyterian Church of Nigeria (PCN). The PCN, which has over four thousand congregations and over 5.8 million members, is active in the neighboring nations of Benin and Togo, as well as in Mali and Burkina Faso.

Egypt The Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Egypt was founded in 1854 by American Presbyterian missionaries and became autonomous in 1926. It operates in a predominantly Muslim country but has managed to relate in a healthy manner with all segments of Egyptian society. It runs many social-intervention programs through, hospitals, orphanages, and youth centers. They handle such issues as illiteracy, women’s rights, sexual education, and tolerance. The church also pursues ecumenical and interfaith interests that involve hosting an interdenominational dialogue with Episcopalians and Lutherans and creating programs for Christian-Muslim dialogue.

Malawi Presbyterianism arrived in Malawi through the work of Scottish missionaries, but it soon became an amalgamation of the efforts of three entities. The Free Church of Scotland in 1875 established itself in northern Malawi with headquarters at Livingstonia; in 1876, the Church of Scotland established a mission in Blantyre; and in 1889, the Cape Synod of the Dutch Reformed Church in South Africa began work in central Malawi, starting out at Mvera and then relocating to Nkhoma. These three missions joined together as the three Church of Central Africa Presbyterian (CCAP) synods in Malawi in 1924. In 1965 the Harare Synod joined, and the Lundazi Synod (currently called the Zambia Synod) came on board in 1984. The Malawi scenario is a case of different religious bodies uniting to constitute a single denomination. At the same time, however, Malawi also provides an example of how Presbyterian churches become divided. In 1998, some charismatic members left the CCAP to form a new denomination, the Presbyterian Church of Malawi. Consequently, Presbyterians in Malawi have known both unity and division. The division that occurred within CCAP was, however, not the first in Presbyterianism in Malawi.

Presbyterians in Africa   147 The Presbyterian Church of Africa (PCA) was founded in 1898 by the Reverend James Phambani Mzimba. He broke away from the Free Church of Scotland because of a misunderstanding between black and white clergy. This church is one of the oldest independent churches in Southern Africa and has survived on its own without any external assistance. In so doing, it has popularized the tent-making ministry, whereby ministers do other jobs alongside their pastoral work. Like the CCAP, the PCA also operates in Zambia and Zimbabwe. Malawi, therefore, also highlights the transnational character of some African Presbyterian denominations.

Cameroon The Basel missionaries brought Presbyterianism to Cameroon. Three of them arrived on the coast of Cameroon in 1886. One missionary died four days later, but the remaining two continued the mission work. The two world wars interrupted the mission work in Cameroon but did not destroy it. Local leaders helped the church endure through those challenging times. By 1957 both the Basel Mission and the local leaders concluded that the church was ready for independence. In November 1957, the Presbyterian Church in Cameroon was born, when it unanimously adopted the final draft constitution at Ntanfoang-Bali. Today, the Presbyterian Church in Cameroon operates in all ten regions of the country. It is not, however, the only Presbyterian denomination in Cameroon. Eglise Presbyterienne Camerounaise (EPC) was born out of the missionary work in the nineteenth century done by the American Presbyterian Mission (sponsored by the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America) and by the Basel Mission beginning in 1920. In 1957, the denomination became autonomous, and it retains a national character even though it exists mainly in the French-speaking part of Cameroon. It is also active in neighboring Gabon.

Kenya The initial missionary work that gave birth to Presbyterianism in Kenya in East Africa and to the Presbyterian Church of East Africa was undertaken by the Scottish Mission of the Church of Scotland.13 The church’s first missionaries arrived in 1891 and settled at Kibwezi. A decision was later made to pursue further work in Thogoto, and from there, the Presbyterian Church spread out, leading to the baptism of the first Kikuyu convert in 1907. Success in the mission work was, however, slow in coming, and by 1929, disagreements over female circumcision led to a division in the church. Some contended that the practice of female circumcision was medically harmful and that the church should therefore discourage it. Others argued that female circumcision had nothing to do with the church, and they broke away to establish their own schools and churches. Meanwhile, beginning in 1908, the Church of Scotland took a greater interest in the many Scots who were living in Kenya as settlers and government officials. For a long time, the two wings, European and African, constituted one denomination, but they separated in 1936 when the Church of Scotland created its overseas Presbytery of Kenya. In 1946, the church born out of the work of the Gospel Missionary Society (GMS), of

148   benhardt Yemo Quarshie American origin, merged with the overseas Presbytery of Kenya, and then in 1956, the overseas Presbytery of Kenya and the Synod of the Presbyterian Church of East Africa reunited and met as one general assembly.

Sierra Leone The story of Presbyterians in Sierra Leone exemplifies both the continuing participation of non-Africans in the preaching of the gospel on the continent and the efforts African Presbyterians are making to assist sister churches in other countries. The Presbyterian Church of Sierra Leone, now called the Presbyterian Convention of Sierra Leone (PCSL), began in 1988, when the Korean Presbyterian Church Mission (KPCM) sent the first missionary family, Reverend and Mrs. Dae Won Shin, to Sierra Leone. Since its early years, however, the greatest support for the denomination has come from the Presbyterian Church of Ghana, whose ministers have provided leadership. Presbyterian missionaries continue to arrive in Africa even though the circumstances under which they come have changed. These days, they are known as ecumenical ­co-workers, and the movement of co-workers is no longer a one-way street. Now such workers are as likely to be moving in the opposite direction as well. Many African Presbyterian denominations have established congregations abroad. They exist all over the world, including in many Western countries. Some argue that the African presence in countries outside the continent primarily involves chaplaincy services among African and other migrants and is not the same as missionary work targeted at original citizens of those countries. The initial challenges faced by most Presbyterian missionaries eventually led to the spread of Presbyterianism in many countries on the continent.

The Arrival and Spread of Presbyterianism: Some Trends The stories of how Presbyterianism arrived and spread in African nations vary. Through the missionary enterprise of the nineteenth century, the introduction of Presbyterianism took place at different times in different countries. There are, nevertheless, discernible trends in the developments throughout the continent. First, the staunch commitment to spreading the gospel by the missionary bodies and missionaries is beyond doubt. In many countries, including Ghana and Cameroon, virtually all the initial missionaries died not long after their arrival. The west coast of Africa was aptly called the “white man’s grave.” It is thus significant that the missionaries never gave up, and eventually, their efforts were successful. Second, Africans had experienced God, the Supreme Being, long before the missionaries brought the gospel of Jesus Christ. Africans had names for God that the missionaries adopted, which may have facilitated Africans’ reception of the gospel. After Africans accepted the gospel and joined Presbyterian churches, they also became propagators of the gospel. Although missionaries introduced Presbyterianism to the continent, it spread all over Africa through the instrumentality of Africans, who served as elders, teachers, evangelists, teacher-catechists, and ordained ministers. When the First World War led to the deportation of German missionaries in Cameroon, Ghana, and other

Presbyterians in Africa   149 countries, indigenous leaders easily stepped in to keep the churches afloat. Without the indigenous human capital that missionaries helped develop, the churches may well not have survived. Third, the acceptance of Presbyterianism often took place among major ethnic groups before spreading to other parts of a country. For instance, the Presbyterian Church was dominant in Kenya among the Kikuyu; in Nigeria, among the Igbo; and in Ghana, among the Ga Adangme, the Akuapem, and the Ewe. Fourth, the focus on major ethnic groups led to developing their languages into writing. This was the forte of the Basel and Bremen Missions with such languages as Ga, Akuapem Twi, and Ewe in Ghana. After they were reduced to writing, the Bible was translated into these languages and primers and other books were published to aid the educational efforts of the missionaries. Finally, all the mission bodies that sowed Presbyterianism in Africa provided various social services. Every mission station had a school, not just church building. Education was high on the agenda of the missionary agencies that introduced Presbyterianism into Africa. Presbyterians in Africa, including Egypt, Nigeria, and Ghana, have continued to promote education, and today many Presbyterian communions sponsor educational institutions from the elementary to university level. Presbyterian denominations have also been instrumental in educating girls, the blind, and the deaf. Healthcare is another important area of social ministry. In many countries, the first hospitals were established by Presbyterians, and virtually all Presbyterian denominations, most notably in Kenya, Egypt, Cameroon, Nigeria, and Ghana, today operate hospitals and clinics. Missionaries also helped Africans improve their agricultural methods and increase food production. The Basel missionaries especially introduced many different fruit trees and cash crops that enhanced the economic well-being of both the church members and the countries in which they worked. For instance, the Basel Mission introduced cocoa into Ghana, even though that effort was not successful. Nevertheless, a Basel Mission graduate developed the cocoa that has become an economic mainstay for the country. The missionaries also improved agricultural methods through their use of compost and good land management and planting techniques. They also promoted sanitation, thereby helping to take good care of the environment.

Beliefs, Values, and Practices Beliefs The African Presbyterian acknowledgment of the centrality of the Word of God must be seen in terms of the indigenous languages of the continent. African Christians believe and feel at home reading the Bible, especially in their mother tongues, which leads them to accept its worldview. Sola Scriptura is thus meaningful in theory and in practice to Africans. Africans’ belief in the power of God’s Word often informs how they use the

150   benhardt Yemo Quarshie Bible. Some regard it as being powerful enough to literally protect them. They therefore handle the Bible with great care and do not see it as an ordinary book. Reading the Bible in the mother tongue enables readers to easily identify with its contents and the worldview its espouses; for most Africans, the physical and spiritual dimensions of life are closely connected, not dichotomized. Most Africans believe in the existence of malevolent powers. They greatly fear witches, wizards, and demons and seek protection against them. Faith that a sovereign God will keep them safe is critical. African Presbyterians’ faith in God and in Jesus as Christus Victor (that through his atonement, Jesus defeated the powers of evil) is very important. This belief, which Presbyterians everywhere acknowledge has a special meaning for African Presbyterians, given their primal religious consciousness, infuses their worldview. The Presbyterian emphasis on grace also has its own nuances for African Presbyterians. Salvation is supposed to bring the fullness of life, and it starts in this life. In the traditional African belief system, becoming an ancestor after death requires living a full life here and now. Their ancestors are very involved in people’s earthly lives, which helps African Presbyterians appreciate that Jesus Christ offers those who believe in him the ability to defeat death, which is much more valuable than what human ancestors offer. Thus, the strong belief in Africa in the afterlife and the work of the ancestors offers a solid basis for appreciating the risen Lord and his continuing role in the life of Christians through the Holy Spirit.14

Values Discipline, hard work, integrity, and honesty are Presbyterian values with which African Presbyterians identify. Graduates of Basel Mission schools have epitomized these ­values. These traits are highly valued in African culture and are supposed to be displayed in the context of another key African value—the sense of community. The pressures of modernity have deeply shaken the foundations of the African sense of community. Nevertheless, a deep sense of community, we-feeling, still exists among Africans. Thus the kind of communion that should characterize the church as the body of Christ has strong roots in the traditional African sense of community. This sense of community can further propel African Presbyterians to live out the values that have long been associated with Presbyterianism.

Practices The African church today, including Presbyterian denominations, hold many “deliverance services” because of the primal worldview and consciousness that pervades the continent. Influenced by traditional contexts, many Africans feel deeply dependent on superior spirit beings and consistently pray (pour out libation) to them for protection and

Presbyterians in Africa   151 well-being. This leads many African Christians to pray to arrest the challenges ­emanating from the spirit realm. Presbyterians have developed liturgies to deal with some of these matters, including anointing services for healing and widowhood rites—rites performed to formally and symbolically break the relationship between a widow and her departed husband.

Challenges Presbyterians in Africa face many challenges. These emanate from a variety of sources, and some of them are constantly in view. African Presbyterians must not run away from these challenges. A few of these are worth exploring.

Some Worldview-based Challenges A worldview is a person’s map of the universe. It helps people understand how the ­universe works and how they feature in it.15 Understanding a group’s view of the universe facilitates how other people view and relate to them. Changes do occur in people’s worldviews so that aspects of them are redrawn or reduced, but they are never eliminated.16 Without an appreciation of a people’s worldview, meaningful interaction and communication is impossible. The church exists to expand by effectively communicating the gospel. The engagement of the gospel with any culture involves cross-cultural elements, and hence any importation into Africa of the Enlightenment-informed Western map of the universe that dichotomizes the sacred and the secular, the spiritual and physical, will undermine the spread of the gospel. The Western rejection of the involvement of the spiritual in daily life and the contention that the real is only what can be seen and touched—the object of scientific inquiry—is alien to Africans. They reject dividing life into two parts, the spiritual and physical, that are held in different and separate compartments, with minimal contact between them. The African worldview remains predominantly primal.17 Life is a complete whole. The spiritual and the physical constantly interpenetrate. Everything that happens in the physical world has spiritual undertones. For Africans, reality is spiritual, despite modernity’s assault on this belief. In their evangelism and discipleship, Africans must, therefore, take seriously the primal religions and the primal religious consciousness that still dominates Africa. This primal worldview is reflected in the Bible, so that, as J. S. Mbiti argued, “The man of Africa will not have very far to go before he begins to walk on familiar ground.”18 Life is an integrated whole, just as human beings are. Other Presbyterians should take this primal consciousness more seriously, because as Andrew Walls contends, everybody is a primalist at heart,19 meaning that everybody ultimately believes in the spirit world and its continuing impact on the physical world.

152   benhardt Yemo Quarshie Because culture is intertwined with (primal) religion in Africa, Presbyterians must contend daily with challenging choices, including dilemmas about how to handle various rites of passage, institutions such as chieftaincy, and celebrations such as annual festivals. Missionary Christianity, which, in many parts of the continent, gave birth to Presbyterian churches, did not usually engage with African culture and its primal roots. It was easier to declare African culture demonic and simply attempt to discard it. Theological institutions, including Presbyterian-controlled and Presbyterian-related ones, have generally not been quick to try to correct this approach. On the contrary, many of them continue to parrot the Western theological academy, in curriculum, method, and orientation, to the detriment of the church in Africa. Since theology involves seeking answers to culturally rooted questions, the challenges generated by the gospel’s engagement with African culture remain for Presbyterians and for other Christians. Presbyterians, like other Christians, do not know whether to participate in traditional naming ceremonies, puberty rites, burial rites, and community festivals. Traditional marriage rites appear to be acceptable and are recognized by Presbyterian churches. Another major area of continuing challenge is whether Christians should serve as traditional leaders, that is, chiefs. Today, many have accepted such positions, but they are not regarded by their Presbyterian churches as full members because such positions allegedly involve performing rites related to people’s ancestors that are deemed un-Christian. Other churches have adopted a more open approach in which they pastorally accompany their members who take up such traditional leadership positions. Clearly, many challenges related to gospel and culture engagement remain unresolved.

Some Globalization-based Challenges Globalization has powerfully affected the twenty-first century. Unfortunately, in many ways it negatively impacts most of the world, especially Africa. Western cultural values have become or are becoming in many ways the norm as they are transmitted and imbibed through the Internet, social media, and satellite television. There is increasing sexual immorality because pornographic materials have become easily accessible to young people, and the values that permit and endorse free sexual activity of all kinds thus become surreptitiously acceptable. Presbyterians have not been insulated from these developments. An example of the challenges that have arisen in this area is the decision by the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) to accept same-sex relationships and marriages, which led at least one African Presbyterian denomination, the Presbyterian Church of Ghana, to sever relations with the PC(USA) in 2011. The campaign to promote same-sex relations on the African continent as a human rights issue continues to generate vehement reactions based on the view that such relations are at variance with not only the Bible but also traditional African values. Many Presbyterian churches in Africa remain in the forefront of the opposition to same-sex relations, as either individual denominations or as part of various ecumenical bodies.

Presbyterians in Africa   153

Some Religious Pluralism-based Challenges Primal religions existed in Africa before the coming of Christianity and Islam to the continent. Africa therefore has been and remains a multireligious context. This scenario poses many challenges to Christians, including Presbyterians. In many countries, especially Nigeria, the Central African Republic, Egypt, Mali, and Somalia, religious diversity is a major source of open and often violent conflict. Such conflicts strongly impact all citizens, including Presbyterians, but religious diversity affects the Presbyterian churches in a more direct way. As noted, Presbyterians have always been in the forefront of education. Presbyterian missionaries established churches and schools at the same time, and in many African countries, such schools have for generations formed the bedrock of education for the whole country. With independence and the government takeover of the mission schools, the churches’ control over the schools they founded has diminished, creating a situation in which non-Christian students claim the right to import their religious practices into the schools and to not participate in the religious practices of the churches. This issue has sometimes led to conflicts. These developments have prevented Presbyterians from using their schools to train and shape potential members and their members’ children. In some countries, such as Ghana, the government is considering returning mission-founded schools to their original owners.

Some Denominationally-based Challenges Presbyterians in Africa have faced some challenges generated by the existence of various denominations on the continent. These denominations were imported by the different mission agencies that brought Christianity to the continent. In some areas, these missionary bodies were able to share the areas of engagement among them, thereby minimizing competition. Thus certain areas and ethnic groups are associated with particular denominations. In Kenya, for instance, the Kikuyu are generally Presbyterians because it was among them that the first Presbyterian missionaries worked. In Ghana, the Basel Mission worked among the Ga on the coast and then among the Akuapem on the Akuapem Ridge, while the Bremen Mission worked in the eastern part of the Volta River valley and established the Ewe Presbyterian Church that later changed its name to Evangelical Presbyterian Church. In Malawi, the Chewa are predominantly Presbyterian for the same reasons, as are the Igbo in Nigeria. The Scottish Mission planted Presbyterian congregations in both Malawi and Nigeria. Presbyterians have, however, been ecumenical in outlook and have always participated in ecumenical pursuits. In 1929, the two Presbyterian denominations joined with other religious bodies to form the Christian Council of the Gold Coast (today Ghana). In 1942 the two denominations again partnered with other religious communions to start a theological college to train ministers.

154   benhardt Yemo Quarshie The Presbyterian Church of East Africa has also been training its ministers together with Methodists and Anglicans in St. Paul’s United Theological College (now St. Paul’s University), an ecumenical institution. Most Presbyterian churches in Africa are members of international ecumenical bodies such the World Council of Churches, but they also belong to such Reformed bodies as World Communion of Reformed Churches, World Reformed Fellowship, and International Conference of Reformed Churches. Despite the challenges that highlight denominational differences, as well as alliances and cooperation, there is a distinct development on the continent that is worthy of note. As the church becomes more and more African, and the gospel better grounded in African soil, the denominational barriers and differences seem to fade. This is especially pronounced when it comes to worship. Worship in all churches, irrespective of denomination, is characterized by singing, drumming, clapping, and dancing. Worship is very much a celebration.

Some Ethnicity-based Challenges Some challenges that Presbyterian churches face in Africa are ethnically based. Every country on the continent has many ethnic groups. Some ethnic groups, because of arbitrary colonial boundaries, are spread over more than one country. The Ewe, for example, live in Ghana, Togo, and Benin, and the Birifor live in Ghana, Burkina Faso, and Ivory Coast, and the Chewa live in Malawi and Zambia. Multiethnicity is, therefore, a reality that Presbyterians in Africa must deal with daily. One potentially contentious issue is what language should be used for worship in a multiethnic congregation. Disagreements over this issue can sometimes lead to alienation and conflict. It is true that language involves grammar, morphology, and syntax and is required for communication. The importance of language, however, lies beyond being a mere avenue for social interaction and various theories of communication. Language is also the major tool for transmitting culture and a critical determiner of people’s self-identity. Language is a prime dynamic in socialization and a conveyor belt for transmitting cultural values and other markers of self-identity from one generation to another. Any loss of language by any people group is thus a loss of a prime element that defines them. Language also makes possible a people’s apprehension and experience of reality. According to Aloysius Pieris, “Language is the ‘experience’ of reality, religion is its expression.”20 It is through language that any people experience reality, and for the Christian, the ultimate reality is God himself. Any people’s language, therefore, is a critical factor in their grasp and experience of the transcendent. Language is, finally, a means for the articulation and expression of what a people group have understood and experienced of the transcendent. More than any other language, a person’s mother tongue affords her the greatest opportunity and freedom for the true expression of experiences (of the transcendent) that others may not readily appreciate or understand. This means that one’s mother tongue makes communication possible at the deepest level.

Presbyterians in Africa   155 Today many people in Africa insist that to participate in the global village demands the use of international languages to the detriment of local language use. The international languages, such as English, French, and Portuguese, were introduced into Africa by missionaries, traders, and colonialists. They remain important on the continent. Theological education is carried out in these international languages, in most cases to the total neglect of local languages. It is, however, significant that missionaries, though critically assisted by native people, led efforts to reduce into writing many African indigenous languages.21 Unfortunately, those efforts have not always been sustained, and in some cases have been truncated. Much of the theologizing in Africa takes place in foreign languages, which, as acknowledged by J. S. Pobee, enables it to gain a wider audience. Articulating theology in foreign languages, however, is second best to doing it in indigenous languages.22 In Africa, the languages used by most people, especially those on whom Christian mission efforts focus, are mother-tongue languages. The majority of Christians, including Presbyterians, experience and articulate their faith in the mother tongue. Hence as agents of mission, Christians are best equipped for service when they are trained in the use of the mother tongue to do mission work. This necessitates the continued translation of the Bible into African languages. The translation of the Scriptures into African languages is a major factor in the phenomenal growth of Christianity in Africa.23 The use of African languages is crucial in planting the Christian faith in African soil and enabling Christians to unearth and share true African theological insights with the global church. Presbyterians must take the lead in this enterprise. Ethnicity and language also play a role in church polity. Presbyterians elect their leaders—elders and officers at various levels, including the moderator and clerk of the General Assembly. Sometimes the best candidates, because they belong to minority ethnic groups, do not get elected, to the detriment of the church. This prevents the church from denouncing a similar exploitation of ethnicity in national elections and undermines the church’s prophetic role in society. Ethnic issues lead some church leaders to align themselves with politicians, thereby creating problems for the whole African church.

Conclusion As part of the undisputed phenomenon of the shift in the center of gravity of Christianity to the African continent, Presbyterians have a grave responsibility to so shape Christianity that it is faithful to the Scriptures and can therefore serve as the legitimate face of Christianity in future. Today an obvious gap between faith and practice needs to be bridged. That can happen only if Presbyterians in Africa truly respond to the culturally rooted questions that Africans are asking. A key is for individuals to be both Presbyterians and Africans without experiencing any crisis over self-identity. Only then will they know what is authentic in their African Presbyterianism that is worth sharing with the rest of the global Presbyterian family.

156   benhardt Yemo Quarshie

Notes 1. First hinted at by Andrew Walls more than forty years ago, it is now an accepted ­demographic reality. See Andrew Walls, “Towards Understanding Africa’s Place in Christian History,” in Religion in a Pluralistic Society, ed. John S. Pobee (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 1976), 180–189. 2. Andrew F. Walls, “Christian Scholarship in Africa in the Twenty-First Century,” Journal of African Christian Thought 4 (2001): 44–52. 3. John S. Mbiti argues that Africa has 3,200 groups of people (“tribes”). See John S. Mbiti, “The Bible in African Culture,” in Paths of African Theology, ed. Rosino Gibellini (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1994), 36. See also http://www.worldometers.info/world-population/africapopulation/accessed http://www.worldometers.info/world-population/africa-population/ on 25 April 2018. For the description of the African context, see also B. Y. Quarshie, “Doing Biblical Studies in the African Context: The Challenge of Mother-Tongue Scriptures,” Journal of African Christian Thought 5 (2002): 4–14. 4. Mbiti, “Bible in African Culture,” 36. See also John  S.  Mbiti, Concepts of God in Africa (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1970), 326–336. 5. See  G.  K.  Nukunya, Tradition and Change: The Case of the Family (Accra: Ghana Universities Press, 1992). 6. Many of these programs accompanied the economic policies sold to African countries, including Ghana, decades ago by the World Bank and the International Monetary Fund. 7. For the meaning of the term primal and how it persists in Africa and elsewhere, see Andrew Finlay Walls, The Missionary Movement in Christian History: Studies in the Transmission of Faith (New York: Orbis, 1996), 120–121. See also Kwame Bediako, Christianity in Africa: The Renewal of a Non-Western Religion (Akropong, Ghana: Regnum Africa, 2014), 91–108; and Andrew Walls, “Introduction: African Christianity in the History of Religion,” in Christianity in Africa in the 1990s, ed. Christopher Fyfe and Andrews F. Walls (Edinburgh: Centre of African Studies, 1996), 1–16. 8. See John S. Mbiti, “ ‘Hearts Cannot Be Lent!’: In Search of Peace and Reconciliation in African Traditional Society,” Princeton Seminary Bulletin 20 (1999): 2. Mbiti asserts, “Religion plays a prominent role in Africa. Virtually the entire population is attached to one or more of the three main religious traditions—African religion, Christianity, and Islam” or one of “the statistically smaller religions” (2). 9. Mbiti gives the following figures for the major religions: Christianity, 48 percent; Islam, 41 percent; and African religions, 10 percent. See Mbiti, “ ‘Hearts Cannot be Lent!,’ ” fn. 2. 10. Stories of such practices abound in the popular press. 11. See Andrew  F.  Walls, The Cross-Cultural Process in Christian History (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 2002), 211–214, 220–221, for the complex link between the Reformation and the modern missionary movement. See also B. Y. Quarshie, “Strengthening the Legacy of the Reformation in Africa: A Case Study of the Presbyterian Church of Ghana,” Journal of African Christian Thought 20 (2017): 5–12. 12. See Hans W. Debrunner, A History of Christianity in Ghana (Accra, Ghana: Waterville, 1967); S. K. Odamtten, The Missionary Factor in Ghana’s Development, 1820–1880 (Accra, Ghana: Waterville, 1978); Noel Smith, The Presbyterian Church of Ghana, 1835–1960: A  Younger Church in a Changing Society (Accra: Ghana Universities Press, 1966); and Peter K. Schweizer, Survivors on the Gold Coast: The Basel Missionaries in Colonial Ghana (Accra, Ghana: Smartline, 2000).

Presbyterians in Africa   157 13. See “Presbyterian Church of East Africa,” “Member Churches,” World Council of Churches, 2018, accessed January 25, 2018, https://www.oikoumene.org/en/memberchurches/presbyterian-church-of-east-africa. See also “The Historical Chronology,” Presbyterian Church of East Africa, 2018, accessed May 21, 2018, http://www.pcea.or.ke/ index.php/the-historical-chronology. 14. Compare, for example, Bediako, Christianity in Africa, 210–233. See also Kwame Bediako, Jesus in African Culture (a Ghanaian Perspective) (Accra, Ghana: Asempa, 1990); and Bediako, “Biblical Christologies in the Context of African Traditional Religions,” in Sharing Jesus in the Two-Thirds World, ed. Vinay Samuel and Christopher Sugden (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1984), 35–42. 15. See, for example, Walls, “Introduction: African Christianity,” 1–16. 16. Walls, 6–11. 17. See Walls, Missionary Movement, 120–121. See also Bediako, Christianity in Africa, 91–108; and Walls, “Introduction: African Christianity,” 6–11. 18. John  S.  Mbiti, “Christianity and East African Culture and Religion,” Dini na Mila 3, no. 1 (1968): 4. 19. Walls, Missionary Movement, 121. 2 0. Aloysius Pieris, An Asian Theology of Liberation (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1988), 70. See also Bediako, Christianity in Africa, 175. 21. In Ghana, for instance, the Basel missionaries were critical in the development of local languages. Johannes Zimmermann and Johannes Christaller, with assistance from natives, translated the Bible into Ga and Twi respectively in the nineteenth century. 22. John S. Pobee, Toward an African Theology (Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1979). 23. Bediako, Christianity in Africa, 62. See also Ype Schaaf, On Their Way Rejoicing: The History and Role of the Bible in Africa (Akropong, Ghana: Regnum Africa, 2002); and Lamin Sanneh, Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture (New York: Orbis, 1989).

Bibliography Bediako, Kwame. Christianity in Africa: The Renewal of a Non-Western Religion. Akropong, Ghana: Regnum Africa, 2014. Fyfe, Christopher, and Andrew Walls, eds. Christianity in Africa in the 1990s. Edinburgh: Centre of African Studies, 1996. Pobee, John S. Toward an African Theology. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press, 1979. Quarshie, B. Y. “Strengthening the Legacy of the Reformation in Africa: A Case Study of the Presbyterian Church of Ghana.” Journal of Africa Christian Thought 20 (2017): 5–12. Schaaf, Ype. On Their Way Rejoicing: The History and Role of the Bible in Africa. Akropong, Ghana: Regnum Africa, 2002. Smith, Noel. The Presbyterian Church of Ghana, 1835–1960: A Younger Church in a Changing Society. Accra: Ghana Universities Press, 1966. Walls, Andrew. “Christian Scholarship in Africa in the Twenty-First Century.” Journal of African Christian Thought 4 (2001): 44–52.

chapter 9

Pr esby ter i a ns i n Asi a Scott W. Sunquist and Peter Lim

Introduction Presbyterianism was introduced to Asia beginning in the seventeenth century by a number of imperialist countries, especially the Netherlands, Great Britain, and the United States, as well as by Canadians. The Dutch brought Presbyterianism to Asia through its trading company, the United East India Company, as they expanded and sought new colonies. The Dutch Reformed Church was established almost inadvertently in Ceylon (present-day Sri Lanka) in 1642. At about the same time, the first Reformed churches were being established for European expatriates in the East Indies (1619). The Dutch soon took over the Island of Formosa (now Taiwan, in 1627) and the Malaya Peninsula (now West Malaysia, in 1641). British Presbyterians arrived in India in 1812 as part of the merchants and military regiments serving with the East India Company. The first Presbyterian churches were not established in India until the nineteenth century. Alexander Duff, a Scots educator, arrived in Calcutta in 1830 as the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists were beginning their missionary work. These Welsh churches were the foundation of the Presbyterian Church in India (1840). In 1847, British Presbyterians congregations were planted China, and in 1851, they were established in East Malaya (presently Malaysia and Singapore). American Presbyterians joined the efforts of their Reformed peers and sent missionaries to India, Thailand, China, Japan, and Korea beginning in the 1830s. Some Presbyterian missionaries were also sent to Asia in the early nineteenth century through the London Missionary Society (present-day Council for World Mission), China Inland Mission (present-day Overseas Missionary Fellowship), and the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. American Presbyterian missionaries started working in the Philippines in 1899, the year after the United States won the Battle of Manila Bay in the Spanish American War. Australian Presbyterian missionaries arrived in Korea in the early 1900s, and Presbyterians from New Zealand began their work in China, Malaya, and Indonesia around the same time.

160   scott w. sunquist and peter lim

Pakistan The year after the British took over Punjab in 1849, US Presbyterian Charles W. Forman moved to its capital, Lahore, with fellow missionaries John and Elizabeth Newton, and started a mission school.1 It was named Rang Mahal School the following year, and a college section was added in 1864.2 The college was originally known as Lahore Mission College but changed its name to Forman Christian College after Forman’s death in 1894.3 Forman’s work at the school was praised by the lieutenant governor of Punjab, Sir Robert Egerton, in 1881.4 He was also heralded as “a prolific publisher of Urdu tracts on doctrinal themes.”5 Andrew Gordon began his work in Sialkot in 1855 and led an outcast Chuhra to Christ in 1857, which resulted in the Chuhra movement. The first presbytery was organized in 1859, and the Synod of Punjab was formed in 1893.6 The synod became autonomous and was renamed the United Presbyterian Church of Pakistan in 1961. The church merged with the Lahore Christian Council to become the Presbyterian Church of Pakistan, in 1992.7 After schools were nationalized, in 1972, the church established new schools for students of all ages. The church also founded a seminary and two hospitals.8 The Presbyterian Church of Pakistan has been campaigning against human rights violations since 2010.9

India Presbyterian clergy from the Church of Scotland, some serving as chaplains ministering to Scottish soldiers in the regiments of the King George III’s troop in India, founded churches in Bombay (present-day Mumbai) in 1814, Madras (present-day Chennai) in 1815, and Calcutta (present-day Kolkata) in 1818.10 Although these congregations served mainly the Scottish expatriate communities in their early years, James Bryce, the first Scottish chaplain to India, “laid the foundation for wider involvement among soldiers and traders and mission among Hindus.”11 After his arrival in 1830 as the Church of Scotland’s first official missionary in India, Alexander Duff introduced the idea of “evangelism via education.” Duff ’s idea that “education and evangelism must go together” was eventually adopted by the majority of the missionary societies in India and greatly impacted the colonial government’s education policy.12 Duff left with the established Church of Scotland during the Great Disruption and served as a missionary with the Free Church of Scotland in 1843, but he was not willing to grant the young church in India decision-making power and argued that “self-support be a prerequisite to transfer of authority” to indigenous congregations.13 American Presbyterians, William Reed and John C. Lowrie, started a mission station in Ludhiana, northern India, in 1834. Other new stations in Saharanpur, Sabathu, and Allahabad were started two years later in the same region. In 1840 Americans divided their India Mission further into the Punjab Mission and the North India Mission, also

presbyterians in asia   161 known as the Farukhabad Mission. The four original mission stations were placed under the Punjab Mission. The two missions continued to expand, and a third mission, known as the West India Mission, was added in 1870 taking on the work in Maharashtra transferred from American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions. Between 1908 and 1913 the Punjab Mission opened four more mission stations, and the Farukabad Mission established fourteen of them between 1843 and 1924. The West India Mission was also expanded from its original station at Kolhapur, which Presbyterians inherited from the American Board by adding seven new stations between 1873 and 1910.14 The churches in northern India were organized in 1904 as the Presbyterian Church in India. Several decades later, this denomination joined with the Congregational Church in West India to form the United Church of Northern India (UCNI). Some congregations in the newly united church left in 1970 to join six other denominations in forming the Church of North India. Presbyterian churches in the south became part of the South India United Church, which eventually joined other communions, in 1947, to form the Church of South India. In 1968, the Presbyterian Church of Assam in the northeastern part of India changed its name to the Presbyterian Church in North-East India and in 1992 adopted the name the Presbyterian Church of India. It currently has over 3,200 congregations, two theological institutions, and four hospitals.15

Bangladesh The first English-speaking Presbyterian minister to arrive in Bengal was also the first missionary of the London Missionary Society to serve in India. Nathaniel Forsyth was ordained in the Scots Presbytery in London after graduating from the University of Glasgow.16 He arrived in Bengal in 1798, five years after renowned British missionary William Carey established his work in the same region. Forsyth died in 1816 after eighteen years of ministry in Bengal.17 Both Forsyth and Carey were ministering in Dutch colonies and received protection from the Dutch.18 The Free Church of Scotland’s first missionary arrived in Bengal in 1862, and the Presbyterian Church of England’s initial missionary came in 1878.19 The Presbyterian denominations eventually joined the Anglican Church in East Pakistan to form the Church of Bangladesh after the nation became independent in 1971.

Sri Lanka The British occupied Ceylon (present-day Sri Lanka) in 1796. The Church of Scotland began its mission work in 1830 and formed the Presbytery of Ceylon in 1845. The Dutch Reformed Church joined the Presbytery of Ceylon in 1882. A split within the Dutch

162   scott w. sunquist and peter lim Reformed Church in 1952 gave birth to the Presbyterian Church of Colombo and broke up the presbytery.20 The membership of the Dutch Reformed Church has since been in decline due to emigration.21 The Presbyterian Church of Colombo joined with the Scottish in 1954 to form the Presbytery of Lanka. The Scottish congregation in Colombo continues to function under the International Presbytery, the new name the Church of Scotland gave to its Presbytery of Europe in 2014.

Myanmar The migration of the Mizo people from northeast India to Myanmar from 1914 to 1950 contributed to spreading Presbyterianism within the country. Some of these migrants became Presbyterians during the revival in their region in the 1930s organized by Welsh Presbyterian missionaries.22 The Presbyterian congregations in Myanmar were under the care of by Mizo Presbyterian Church in India for several years until the founding of the Presbyterian Church of Myanmar in 1962.23

Thailand William  P.  Buell and his wife Signoria, the first American Presbyterian missionaries in  Thailand, were stationed in Bangkok in 1840. The mission station in Chiangmai, northern Thailand, was opened by a Princeton Theological Seminary graduate, Daniel McGilvary, in 1867. The work in Chiangmai was very fruitful. “In just a little over two years, the Chiangmai mission accomplished far more than the Siam Mission in Bangkok achieved in twenty long years.”24 McGilvary was also lauded for appealing to the King Chulalongkorn of Siam for religious tolerance after the martyrdom of a few local believers in 1869, resulting in the king’s “Proclamation of Religious Liberty” in 1878.25 The Presbyterian Church experienced numerical growth in Siam during a smallpox epidemic from 1912 to 1914, but growth slowed down between 1914 and 1937. Alex G. Smith of the Overseas Missionary Fellowship asserted that missionaries’ preoccupation with educational work “seriously diminished church growth.”26 The idea of organizing a national church was proposed as early as 1902, the desire for the nationals to take over leadership from the missionaries was openly expressed in 1925, and the national church, the Church of Christ in Siam (CCS), was created in 1934. However, missionaries from the American Presbyterian Mission (APM) continued to exercise complete control over the CCS’s finance and administration prior to World War II.27 In 1939 the CCS invited John Sung, an itinerant evangelist, from China to conduct a series of revival meetings at “all the main churches of the mission stations of the APM.”28 The invitation was a result of Sung’s ministry in Thailand in 1938, which earned him

presbyterians in asia   163 the trust of both the leaders of the national church and the American Presbyterian missionaries. Seung Ho Son argues that “Sung’s revival ministry won the largest number of converts and was the most effective in Thai church history.”29 With the government’s 1939 decision to use “Thailand” to replace “Siam,” the Church of Christ in Siam changed its name to the Church of Christ in Thailand (CCT) in 1940. The nationals were able to exercise leadership in their denomination for four years during the Japanese invasion that began on December 8, 1941, which led to the exodus of all missionaries. During this period of trial and tribulation, numerous Christians abandoned their faith. However, Seung observed that “others still stood firm in the faith, and these are the ones who affirmed that they had benefited from Dr. Sung’s revival preaching.”30 Missionaries from other Protestant denominations began to work in Thailand after the war, but not all of them were affiliated with the CCT. The CCT became fully self-­ governing in 1976, and now includes about thirty elementary/secondary schools, two universities, two seminaries, and a Student Christian Centre. The CCT also has seven hospitals and a rehabilitation institute and plays an active role in aiding refugees.31

Malaysia The Dutch controlled Melaka (present-day Malacca) for almost two centuries (1641–1825) and brought the Reformed faith into the region. The pastoral needs of the Scottish community in Malaya were initially met by London Missionary Society missionaries with a Presbyterian background. With the signing of the Treaty of Nanjing that ended the First Opium War (1839–1842), however, the LMS started to relocate its missionaries to China.32 The 1842 treaty forced China to establish five treaty ports for trading and to permit religious proselytizing, giving Western missions more opportunities for expansion. As a result, the expatriate communities in Penang, Kuala Lumpur, and Ipoh began looking for their pastors from their home nations. In 1851, Charles Moir was called to minister to the Scottish expatriates in Penang. He served for several years there as pastor to the Scots and as a missionary to the Malays, at the same time, assisting “in the pre-existing Chinese mission work in Province Wellesley” (present-day Seberang Perai).33 After Moir resigned in 1857, the congregation sometimes experienced long periods without a minister but continued to function. English Presbyterian missionaries expelled from China began to join the Synod of Malaya, the colony’s national Presbyterian body, in the late 1940s and early 1950s. These missionaries helped the English-speaking expatriates become aware of Chinese ministries.34 The synod was divided in 1975 into the Presbyterian Church of Malaysia and the Presbyterian Church in Singapore following the separation of Singapore from the Federation of Malaysia. The first English-speaking presbytery was formed in 1990. The Presbyterian Church of Malaysia also planted the first Presbyterian church in Sabah,

164   scott w. sunquist and peter lim East Malaysia, in 1998, thus ending the perception that Presbyterianism was “found only in the Peninsula.”35

Singapore It is a little artificial to separate the Presbyterian history of Singapore from Malaysia since their discrete histories only began in 1975. In 1856 Thomas McKenzie Fraser, a missionminded minister, was called to serve in the British colony in Singapore by the Scottish Presbyterian Church at Orchard Road. Fraser enlisted a Chinese assistant, Tan See Boo, to help him reach immigrants from China, while he also ministered to the Scottish community. In 1882, John Angus Bethune Cook, an ordained missionary from the Presbyterian Church of England, came to work with the Chinese immigrants in Singapore.36 Cook established the Singapore Presbyterian Synod in 1901. His colleague Tay Sek Tin was a pastor who was called from China in 1897. Since Cook had learned to speak the Teochew (or Chaozhou) dialect during the time he spent in Swatow (present-day Shantou), Tay was asked to work with the Hokkien- (or Fujian-)dialect-speaking Chinese. Cook retired in 1925 and was replaced by T. C. Gibson and A. S. M. Anderson, both long-time missionaries in southern China. In 1975, the synod separated into the Presbyterian Church in Singapore and the Presbyterian Church of Malaysia. Owing to the increasing number of English-speaking congregations, the Singapore Church divided into the Chinese and English presbyteries in 1993. The PCS continues to be one of the governing denominations of Trinity Theological College. Presbyterians helped found this institution (the first seminary in Singapore) in 1948 to train ministers.

Indonesia The Dutch occupied Indonesia in 1605 after defeating the Portuguese. The Dutch forbade the practice of Roman Catholicism and recognized only the Dutch Reformed Church in the areas they controlled. The Bible was available in Indonesian by 1733. By the end of the eighteenth century, the number of Reformed Christians in the Indonesian archipelago was about fifty-five thousand. The Dutch government renamed Indonesia the Dutch East Indies in 1799. Freedom of religion was proclaimed in 1807, a year after the French had taken control of the Dutch East Indies. Numerous missionaries arrived during the British Rule of the Dutch East Indies (1811–1815) and continued their work even after the Dutch regained control in 1815. The Dutch organized the Protestant Church of the Netherland Indies in 1817, to include all Protestant denominations that had been founded in East Indies.

presbyterians in asia   165 In 1936 some congregations with a Reformed theology and polity formed the General Synod of the Protestant Church, Gereja Protestan Indonesia (GPI).37 After the Japanese occupied Indonesia in 1942, almost all foreign missionaries were interned. Congregations were forced to join regional councils of churches, but Indonesian Christians governed themselves during the war years. Most churches left this association when national independence was proclaimed in 1945. Since 1945 many Presbyterian denominations have been started; eighteen of these have a membership exceeding a hundred thousand.38 The Reformed Family Worldwide identifies four types of Reformed Christianity in Indonesia, with a combined membership of over eight million; it is estimated that at least one-third of Asian Presbyterians live in Indonesia today.39

The Philippines On May 1, 1898, the US Navy, under the command of Commodore George Dewey, defeated the Spanish Navy at the Battle of Manila Bay. The victory enabled the United States to occupy Manila three months later and compelled Spain to transfer the control of the Philippines to the United States. Presbyterian, Methodist, and Baptist leaders met in New York after the battle to divide the Philippines for church planting purposes. The Presbyterians were assigned Southern Luzon and Western Visayas. The first American Presbyterian, James Rodgers, arrived in the Philippines in 1899, and a church was founded the following year. In 1901, leaders of various denominational missions met in Manila and formed the Evangelical Union of the Philippine Islands. The Union was reconstituted as the National Christian Council in 1929.40 That same year, Presbyterians joined with a few other denominations to form the United Evangelical Church in the Philippines. It united with the Philippine Methodist Church and the Evangelical Church in the Philippines in 1948 to establish the United Church of Christ in the Philippines.

China As noted, the First Opium War ended in 1842 with the signing of the Treaty of Nanjing. The British demand for the Chinese to open four more cities for commerce was seen by many missionaries, including Presbyterian ones, as an opportunity to further evangelize China. The English Presbyterian Mission (EPM) was established a year after the war ended. Its first missionary, William Burns, was sent to Hong Kong in 1847 and moved to Xiamen in 1850. The EPM in 1858 sent George Smith to Shantou, who began one of the most successful missions to China, which would soon establish hospitals, schools, and churches in Shantou as well as Xiamen (Amoy).41 The United Presbyterian Church of Scotland

166   scott w. sunquist and peter lim sent John Ross to Manchuria in 1869, and the Irish Presbyterian Mission dispatched his colleague John MacIntyre there too. The Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) organized its first of eight missions in Hong Kong in 1845; the United Presbyterian Church of North America established a mission in 1860 in Guangzhou; the Presbyterian Church in the United States started working in Hangzhou in 1867; and Cumberland Presbyterian Church commenced its work in Changde, Hunan, in 1897.42 In 1906, a synod was organized, which became the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in China in 1918. This church united with other denominations in 1927 to become the Church of Christ in China. A full-scale war between China and Japan started on July 7, 1937, after the Marco Polo Bridge Incident forced the Chinese government to launch resistance against the Japanese invasion of its territory, which had begun with the Mukden Incident in 1931. The Japanese invaded Nanjing, the capital city of the Republic of China, on December 10, 1937, and committed atrocities there for nearly two months. George Ashmore Fitch, a PCUSA pastor serving with Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) in Nanjing during the invasion, “took and collected still and moving pictures depicting the Japanese atrocities . . . [and] smuggled these images back to the United States” to expose the war crimes the Japanese military committed in Nanjing.43 Another PCUSA missionary, Wilson Plummer Mills, borrowed the idea of a safety zone from a French priest who had created one in Shanghai and presented it to expatriate leaders in Nanjing. A group of Americans and Europeans formed a committee known as the International Committee for the Nanking Safety Zone, in November 1937 and made Jinling College the center of the safety zone to create a haven for the Chinese civilians. It is estimated that between two hundred and three hundred thousand Chinese took refuge in the safety zone during the Japanese invasion.44 The Church of Christ in China established a Border Service Department in 1939 (which lasted until 1955) to aid community-development work in southwest China, as the government retreated to the area to reorganize its resistance forces. Over two million people, belonging to several minority ethnic groups, benefited from the department’s programs, especially its medical services and agricultural training. The denomination founded ten hospitals, thirteen primary schools, and numerous libraries and community institutions during these sixteen years.45 The establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, at the end of a fouryear civil war, prompted forty leaders from the Church of Christ in China, the YMCA, and the Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), along with faculty and administrators from Yanjing University, to issue a Christian manifesto titled “Direction of Endeavor for Chinese Christianity in the Construction of New China” in 1950. It was well received both by many Christians and state officials. Nevertheless, Christians, along with other religious believers, suffered discrimination and the loss of buildings and religious art and relics during the Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976. Religious communities were able to operate openly again after the Cultural Revolution had run its course.

presbyterians in asia   167 Protestant churches in China today are served by the China Christian Council. The Council continues to uphold the self-propagating, self-governing, and self-supporting principle advocated by John Livingston Nevius. He established an out-station near Ningbo in 1857 and made it “fully self-governing, self-propagating, and self-supporting after only two and a half years.”46 Many other Presbyterians wholeheartedly embraced this principle and faithfully instructed Chinese Christians to espouse it. The Council also seeks to promote the adaption of the Christian faith to the Chinese political and cultural context.

Taiwan The Dutch East India Company colonized Formosa (present-day Taiwan) in 1624. A Dutch Reformed minister, Robertus Junius, who served in Formosa from 1629 to 1643, converted many Formosans and established several Christian schools.47 Junius also translated the Dutch Reformed catechism into “a Formosan language known as Sirayan.”48 James Laidlaw Maxwell, a Scottish medical missionary, was sent to southern Taiwan by the Presbyterian Church of England in 1865 and founded the Presbyterian Church of Taiwan (PCT). Maxwell also started a church with a clinic in the city of Tainan. The clinic later became the Sin-Lau Christian Hospital, a regional teaching hospital the PCT manages today.49 The Canadian Presbyterian Mission sent George Leslie MacKay to Tamsui, in northern Taiwan, in 1871. In 1878 Mackay married Tiu Chhang Mia, a Taiwanese woman, who was a great help to Mackay in his ministry. He established more than sixty churches, a hospital, a school for girls, and a training institution for native preachers before his death in 1901. Throughout his lifetime, he helped “carve out for the native Christians a degree of autonomy and freedom perhaps unparalleled among China missions of his day.”50 Thomas Barclay, another Scottish missionary who was sent in 1875 to work with Maxwell, founded the Tainan Theological Seminary in 1876.51 He also started the Taiwan Church News, the first printed periodical in Taiwan, and “oversaw the arrival of Taiwan’s first printing press.”52 The PCT experienced autonomy in the 1930s when the Japanese colonial government expelled missionaries from the island. When Taiwan came under the control of the Kuomintang led by Chiang Kai-shek after the Japanese surrender in 1945, and had martial law imposed in 1949, the PCT stood firmly against this injustice and was greatly distrusted by the authorities. The denomination continues the legacy of both English and Canadian missions by emphasizing both evangelism and social concern. The PCT has founded three seminaries and a Bible college to train leaders, as well as three hospitals, one nursing school, two universities, and three high schools to help meet the needs of the society.53

168   scott w. sunquist and peter lim

Japan A fleet of four black gunships under the command of Commodore Matthew Perry sailed into Tokyo Bay in 1853, a show of force to deliver the US government’s demand that Japan open its ports to American trade. The Japanese signed the Perry Convention in 1854 to allow the use of the ports of Shimoda and Hakodate by US ships and to accept the presence of a US consul in Shimoda. In 1858, Townsend Harris, the first US consul to Japan, negotiated a treaty to open Kanagawa and four other cities for US trade and to allow US citizens permanent residency at the trading ports. It also exempted these US citizens from Japanese jurisdiction and guaranteed their religious freedom.54 As a result, Presbyterian missionaries began to arrive. Physician James Curtis Hepburn and his wife Clara were sent to Kanagawa in 1859 by the PCUSA. Hepburn opened a clinic and then the Hepburn School, which later became the Meiji Gakuin University. He also helped translate the Bible into Japanese and produced the first Japanese-English dictionary in 1867. After a fruitful ministry, the couple returned to the United States in 1892.55 In 1876, the Cumberland Presbyterian Church sent John Baxter Hail and his wife, Mary, to Osaka. Hail’s brother, Alexander Durham Hail, and his wife, Rachel, joined them the following year and later founded the Wilmina Women’s College, which subsequently became Osaka Women’s College. The Hail brothers planted a couple churches and translated Christian literature into Japanese.56 The Reformed and Presbyterian groups joined together in 1877 to form the Nihon Kirisuto Ichi Kyokai. The Presbyterian Church in the United States sent Randolph Bryan Grinnan and Robert Eugenius McAlpine to Japan in 1885. They settled in Kochi, on the island of Shikoku in southern Japan, in 1886. McAlpine moved with his wife in 1887 to Nagoya in central Japan to open a second mission station. They founded a school for girls in Nagoya the following year, which later became Kinjo Gakuin University.57 The Presbyterian bodies joined with forty other denominations in 1941 to form Nihon Kirisuto Kyodan to comply with the 1939 religious-organization law promulgated by the Ministry of Education. The law was abolished at the end of the war, in 1945. Some congregations that originated from the pre-1941 Nihon Kirisuto Kyokai and Nihon Choro Kyokai, the Japan Presbyterian Church, withdrew from the Kyodan in 1946 to establish Nihon Kirisuto Kaikakuha Kyokai—the Reformed Church of Japan.

Korea John Ross of the Scottish United Presbyterian Mission in Mukden (present-day Shenyang), together with his colleague John MacIntyre and a team of Koreans ministering in Manchuria (present-day northeast China), were the first to work on translating the Scriptures into Korean. The National Bible Society of Scotland funded the publishing of

presbyterians in asia   169 the Gospels of John and Luke in 1882. The gospels were distributed throughout the Korean community in northeast China at that time, and some were smuggled into Korea before the arrival of the first Protestant missionaries in 1884.58 The first American Presbyterian missionary, Horace N. Allen, was assigned as the physician to the US Legation in September 1884. Allen was later appointed Court Physician after tending to Prince Min, who was injured on December 4, 1884, and “gained social capital with King Kojong of Korea.”59 Later, as a diplomat, Allen helped strengthen the relationship between Korea and the United States. Horace G. Underwood, a Dutch Reformed minister appointed by the Board of Foreign Missions of PCUSA, arrived in Korea in 1885. The next year, he founded an orphanage in Seoul.60 In 1887, Underwood established a church in his house with fourteen local believers as members. This church, the first organized church in Korea, is today known as the Saemoonan Presbyterian Church. All except one of the members were disciples of Suh Sang-ryun and Baek Hong-jun, who were both baptized by Ross in northeast China.61 Seven Presbyterian missionaries were serving in Korea by 1890. That year, they invited John  L.  Nevius, an American Presbyterian missionary in Shandong, China, to share with them his method of planting self-propagating, self-governing, and self-supporting churches. The seven decided to adopt the “Nevius Method” as their mission plan.62 Among the seven was Samuel A. Moffet, who had arrived the same year of Nevius’s visit and founded the Presbyterian Theological Seminary in Pyongyang in 1901. In 1893, the Council for Mission of Presbyterian Churches was formed. Its newer members included the Presbyterian Church of Victoria in Australia that had begun in Korea in 1889 and the Presbyterian Church in the United States, started in 1892. The Presbyterian Church of Canada joined the work in Korea in 1898.63 The council, which coordinated Presbyterian missions, was dissolved in 1907 after the establishment of the Daehan Presbytery (Presbytery of All Korea). Daehan Presbytery included thirty-eight foreign missionaries and forty Korean elders; Moffet, the first resident Protestant missionary in Pyongyang, served as its general secretary. The presbytery ordained the first seven graduates of the seminary and established a Board of Foreign Missions to send its first missionary to the nearby Cheju Island.64 The General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Chosun met in 1912, after the annexation of Korea by Japan in 1910. Most of the mission boards officially welcomed the annexation (Korea had long been under foreign control, and most Westerners assumed that colonialism had a generally positive impact in Asia and Africa) because their countries recognized the influence of the Japanese in the region. Japanese authorities tried to win over the missionaries and Korean pastors in the early years of the occupation but also encouraged the churches the Japanese had established to assimilate Korean churches into the Japanese culture. Many Japanese denominations supported the measure, but the Presbyterian Church of Japan “kept its distance and was even critical of colonial policies.”65 Korean resentment of these policies resulted in a large nationwide demonstration on March 1, 1919. It was violently put down by the Japanese but produced a movement known as Samil Undong (March First Independence Movement).66 “Christians were among the main instigators” of the movement; one half of the people

170   scott w. sunquist and peter lim involved in the planning the demonstration were Christians, and 22 percent of those imprisoned were Christians.67 After the surrender of the Japanese to the Allied Forces in September 1945, Korea was occupied by the Soviet Union north of the 38th parallel and by the United States south of the parallel, under a trusteeship arrangement agreed on by the Allies three months later. Christians in the north actively worked to reconstruct the country after its liberation from Japan. Their efforts caused the Soviets concern. The churches clashed with the Soviets in 1946 over the Samil Undong celebration, which the Soviets considered a threat, resulting in the arrest of some church leaders.68 The Presbyterian Church was reconstituted in the south the same year and adopted the name the Presbyterian Church of Korea in 1949. A major disagreement over whether this church should join World Council of Churches in 1959 resulted in the creation of the Presbyterian Church in Korea (HapDong) and the Presbyterian Church of Korea (TongHap).69 Korea today has more than a hundred Presbyterian denominations, twenty thousand congregations, and almost nine million members (about 15 percent of the country’s population), and these numbers continue to grow.70

The Future of Presbyterianism in Asia The colonial experience deeply affected Presbyterianism in Asia until decolonization occurred in the 1940s and 1950s. Asian Presbyterian leaders were soon under the influence of Asian governments and the ecumenical movement, leaders of united churches. Presbyterians in many Asian countries are now members of such denominations as the United Church of Christ of the Philippines, the Church of South India, the Church of Bangladesh, or the China Christian Council. Many of these union churches have continued the strong tradition of social engagement, but most of them have not kept pace numerically with the faster growing churches that are part of newer indigenous Christian movements or newer Presbyterian denominations planted by Asians. Most of these united churches maintain relations with Presbyterian Churches in the West through conferences, funding, and joint initiatives. Asian Presbyterians from Korea, Singapore, Malaysia, Myanmar, Taiwan, or Hong Kong (Cumberland Presbyterian Church) have founded new Presbyterian communions in their areas. The United Presbyterian Church of Vietnam, for example, was founded by the initiative of Vietnamese with the support and encouragement of the PC(USA). Connections with this Presbyterian body (and another smaller Presbyterian denomination) are maintained through other East Asian Presbyterian communions, as well as through one in Korea. In all cases, these more recent Presbyterian churches in Cambodia, Vietnam, and Laos are growing, but are smaller than the congregations founded earlier by the Christian Missionary and Alliance Church. In Myanmar, the Presbyterian Church, which started mostly among the Mizo from India, continues to grow and spread through migration. Many of the Presbyterians,

presbyterians in asia   171 because of their education, have moved to larger cities (especially Yangon) and founded churches that reach out to other ethnic groups in the country. Connections with the Presbyterians from Myanmar and others who migrate throughout Asia and to the West have led to the spread of Presbyterian congregations and will undoubtedly continue to do so in the coming decades. The distinctive Presbyterian denominations that have continued in Asia are now sending missionaries to the harder-to-reach areas of Asia. In the past thirty years, a growing movement of Presbyterians from Korea, Taiwan, Malaysia, Singapore, Northeast India, and Indonesia are evangelizing and planting congregations in Indochina, China, Japan, Nepal, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and the Middle East. Although Korean Presbyterians have been the largest missionary force in Asia since the 1970s, Protestant Christianity, including Presbyterianism, is now declining in South Korea. Nevertheless, Korean Presbyterians lead in Asian missionary outreach, not only in Asia, but globally. Unfortunately, in every country in Asia where Presbyterian churches operate, Christians are either tolerated or restricted in their activities. In some countries, such as India, social and political pressure against Christianity is very strong. It is unlikely that future unions of Presbyterians will occur because the ecumenical movement was more of a Western church initiative, but the interreligious and political context of all Presbyterian denominations will continue to be important factors in how they develop in partnership with other Presbyterian communions.

Notes 1. Charles W. Forman, “The Legacy of Charles W. Forman,” International Bulletin of Missionary Research 38 (2014): 203. 2. Forman, 204. 3. “About,” Forman Christian College, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.fccollege.edu.pk/ about/. 4. “The Lahore Mission School Rightly Valued,” in The Presbyterian Monthly Record of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, vol. 32 (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1881), 201–202. 5. Avril  A.  Powell, “’Pillar of a New Faith’: Christianity in Late-Nineteen-Century Punjab from the Perspective of a Convert from Islam,” in Christians and Missionaries in India: Cross-Cultural Communication since 1500, ed. Robert Eric Frykenberg and Alaine Low (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2003), 237. 6. Arthur James, “Gordon, Andrew,” in Dictionary of Christianity in Asia, ed. Scott Sunquist, David Wu Chu Sing, and John Chew Hiang Chea (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2000), 312. 7. “Guide to the India-Pakistan Mission Records,” Presbyterian Historical Society, accessed March 7, 2017, https://www.history.pcusa.org/collections/research-tools/guides-archivalcollections/rg-500 8. “Presbyterian Church of Pakistan,” World Council of Churches, accessed March 7, 2017, https://web.archive.org/web/20161026095348/http:/presbyterianchurchpk.org/human_ rights.php

172   scott w. sunquist and peter lim 9. “Human Rights,” Presbyterian Church of Pakistan, accessed July 7, 2017, http://presbyterianchurchpk.org/human_rights.php. 10. Easther Breitenbach, “Scots Churches and Missions,” in Scotland and the British Empire, ed. John MacDonald MacKenzie and T. M. Devine (New York: Oxford University Press, 2016), 197–198; and Walter Steuart, A Compendium of the Laws of the Church of Scotland (Edinburgh, 1830), 459, quoted in Breitenbach, “Scots Churches and Missions,” 198. 11. John Roxborogh, “Presbyterians and Reformed Churches,” in Dictionary of Christianity in Asia, ed. Scott Sunquist, David Wu Chu Sing, and John Chew Hiang Chea (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2000), 773. 12. Lyle L. Vander Werff, Christian Mission to Muslims, The Record: Anglican and Reformed Approaches in India and the Near East, 1800–1938 (Pasadena, CA: William Carey Library, 1977), 62–66. 13. Vander Werff, Christian Mission to Muslims, 65. 14. “Guide to the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A.  Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations Secretaries’ Files: India Mission,” Presbyterian Historical Society, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.history.pcusa.org/collections/research-tools/guidesarchival-collections/rg-83 15. “Statistics of the PCI,” Presbyterian Church of India (PCI) General Assembly, accessed December 28, 2018, http://www.pcishillong.org/statistics.php. 16. Kenneth MacLeod Black, The Scots Churches in England (Edinburgh: William Blackwood & Sons, 1906), 179. 17. Richard Lovett, The History of the London Missionary Society, 1795–1895, vol. 2 (London: Oxford University Press, 1899), 15. 18. Anna Johnston, Missionary Writing and Empire, 1800–1860 (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 65. 19. “Presbyterian Church of England Foreign Missions Committee,” Archives Hub, accessed March 7, 2017, https://archiveshub.jisc.ac.uk/search/archives/5a12d8aa-88d1-39b9-9a5f9f135e799f81?terms=Bengal. 20. Reformed Online, s.v. “Sri Lanka – (Asia),” accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.reformiertonline.net/weltweit/126_eng.php. 21. Russell R. Ross and Andrea Matles Savada, “Sri Lanka: A Country Study,” in Sri Lanka: Current Issues and Historical Background, ed. Walter Nubin (New York: Nova Science, 2002), 165. 22. Sajal Nag, “ ‘God’s Strange Means’: Missionaries, Calamity and Philanthropy among the Lushais,” in Christianity and Change in Northeast India, ed. T. B. Subba, Joseph Puthenpurakal, and Shaji Joseph Puykunnel (New Delhi: Concept Publishing, 2009), 298. 23. Reformed Online, s.v. “Kawlram Presb Kohhran,” accessed March 7, 2017, http://www. reformiert-online.net/weltweit/land.php?id=95&lg=eng. 24. Herbert R. Swanson, Khrischak Muang Nua: A Study in Northern Thai Church History (Bangkok, Thailand: Chuan Printing Press, 1984), 12, quoted in Seung Ho Son, “Christian Revival in the Presbyterian Church of Thailand between 1900 and 1941: An Ecclesiological Analysis and Evaluation” (PhD diss., University of Stellenbosch, 2003), 21. 25. Son, “Christian Revival,” 21. 26. Alex G. Smith, Siamese Gold: A History of Church Growth in Thailand: An Interpretative Analysis 1816–1982 (Bangkok: Kanok Bannasan, 1982), 163, quoted in Son, “Christian Revival,” 23.

presbyterians in asia   173 27. P.  Pongudom, The History of the Church of Christ in Thailand (Bangkok: Chuanphim, 1984), 75, quoted in Son, “Christian Revival,” 169. 28. Son, “Christian Revival,” 148. 29. Son, 162. 30. Son, 184. 31. “Church of Christ in Thailand,” World Council of Churches, accessed March 7, 2017, https://www.oikoumene.org/en/member-churches/church-of-christ-in-thailand. 32. Daniel  S.  H.  Ahn, “Changing Profiles: The Historical Development of Christianity in Singapore,” in Religious Transformation in Modern Asia: A Transnational Movement, ed. David W. Kim (Leiden: Brill, 2015), 256. 33. Greg Livingstone, “A Synopsis of the Earliest History of Presbyterian-Reformed Churches in Mission to the Muslim World,” Evangelical Presbyterian Church, accessed August 12, 2015, https://web.archive.org/web/20150812060509/http:/www.epc.org/file/main-menu/ ministries/world-outreach/other-documents/Presbyterian-Reformed-Churches-in-theMuslim-World.pdf. 34. Livingstone, “Synopsis of the Earliest History,” 97. 35. Livingstone, 75. 36. “Presbyterian Church of England Foreign Missions Committee,” Archives Hub, accessed March 7, 2017, https://archiveshub.jisc.ac.uk/search/archives/5a12d8aa-88d1-39b9-9a5f9f135e799f81?terms=Singapore. 37. Reformed Online, s.v. “Indonesia – (Asia),” accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.reformiert-online.net/weltweit/64_eng.php. 38. Joachim Guhrt, “Reformed and Presbyterian Churches,” in The Encyclopedia of Christianity, ed. Erwin Fahlbusch et al. (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2005), 538. 39. James  C.  Spalding and John Colin Stillwell, “Reformed and Presbyterian Churches,” Encyclopedia Britannica, last modified September 6, 2011, accessed March 7, 2017, https://www.britannica.com/topic/Presbyterian-churches. 40. “Guide to the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A.  Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations Secretaries’ Files: Philippine Mission,” Presbyterian Historical Society, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.history.pcusa.org/collections/research-tools/ guides-archival-collections/rg-85. 41. “Presbyterian Church of England Foreign Missions Committee,” Archives Hub, accessed March 7, 2017, https://archiveshub.jisc.ac.uk/search/archives/5a12d8aa-88d1-39b9-9a5f9f135e799f81?terms=China. 42. “Guide to the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. Board of Foreign Missions Secretaries’ Files: China Missions,” Presbyterian Historical Society, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www. history.pcusa.org/collections/research-tools/guides-archival-collections/rg-82. 43. “Hell on Earth: George Fitch,” Facing History and Ourselves, accessed March 7, 2017, https://www.facinghistory.org/nanjing-atrocities/atrocities/hell-earth-george-fitch. 44. “Nanking and the Presbyterian Helpers,” Presbyterian Historical Society, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.history.pcusa.org/blog/nanking-and-presbyterian-helpers. 45. Wang Hong-liang, “Effectiveness Considerations and Reason Analysis on the Border Service of the Church of Christ in China” [in Chinese], Journal of the Sichuan Normal University (Social Sciences Edition) 38, no. 2 (2011): 5. 46. Scott  W.  Sunquist, Explorations in Asian Christianity: History, Theology, and Mission (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2017), 209.

174   scott w. sunquist and peter lim 47. Leonard Blussé, “Retribution and Remorse: The Interaction between the Administration and the Protestant Mission in Early Colonial Formosa,” in After Colonialism: Imperial Histories and Postcolonial Displacements, ed. Gyan Prakash (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995), 153; and James  W.  Davidson, The Island of Formosa: Historical View from 1430 to 1900 (London: Macmillan, 1903), 25. 48. Donald F. Lach and Edwin J. Van Kley, Asia in the Making of Europe, vol. 3: A Century of Advance (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993), bk. 4, p. 1800. 49. “History,” Sin-Lau Medical Foundation of the Presbyterian Church in Taiwan, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.sinlau.org.tw/en/mode02.asp?m=201112291115241&t=sub. 50. James  R.  Rohrer, “The Legacy of George Leslie MacKay,” International Bulletin of Missionary Research 34 (2010): 226. 51. “Presbyterian Church of England Foreign Missions Committee,” Archives Hub, accessed March 7, 2017, https://archiveshub.jisc.ac.uk/search/archives/5a12d8aa-88d1-39b9-9a5f9f135e799f81?terms=Taiwan. 52. “Presbyterian Legacy in Tainan,” Tainan City Guide, accessed March 7, 2017, https:// tainancity.wordpress.com/2010/09/17/presbyterian-legacy-in-tainan/. 53. “Presbyterian Church in Taiwan,” World Council of Churches, accessed March 7, 2017, https://www.oikoumene.org/en/member-churches/presbyterian-church-in-taiwan. 54. Encyclopedia Britannica, s.v. “Harris Treaty,” accessed March 7, 2017, https://www.britannica. com/event/Harris-Treaty. 55. “Biography: Dr. James Curtis Hepburn and Clara Hepburn,” Presbyterian Heritage Center, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.phcmontreat.org/bios/Hepburn-JamesCurtisClara.htm. 56. B. W. McDonnald, History of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (Nashville, TN: Board of Publication of Cumberland Presbyterian Church, 1899), 482–490. 57. “Guide to the Presbyterian Church in the U.S. Japan Mission Records,” Presbyterian Historical Society, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.history.pcusa.org/collections/research-tools/ guides-archival-collections/rg-491. 58. Sebastian  C.  H.  Kim and Kirsteen Kim, A History of Korean Christianity (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015), 56. 59. Henry Hyunsuk Kim, “Horace N. Allen: Missions, Expansionism, Structural Holes, and Social Capital,” Journal for the Sociological Integration of Religion and Society 3, no. 1 (2013): 3. 60. Randy  G.  Haney, “Underwood, Horace Grant,” in Encyclopedia of Christianity in the United States, ed. George Thomas Kurian and Mark A. Lamport, 5 vols. (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2016), 5:2352. 61. Kim and Kim, History of Korean Christianity, 66. 62. Han Soo Park, “A Study of Missional Structures for the Korean Church for Its Postmodern Context” (PhD diss., Fuller Theological Seminary, 2008), 11. 63. Reformed Online, s,v. “Korea, Republic of – (Asia),” accessed March 7, 2017, http://www. reformiert-online.net/weltweit/75_eng.php. 64. David Koch, “Presbyterianism in the Hermit Kingdom: Presbyterian Church of Korea at 110,” Presbyterian Historical Society, March 1, 2017, accessed March 7, 2017, http://www. history.pcusa.org/blog/2017/03/presbyterianism-hermit-kingdom-presbyterianchurch-korea-110. 65. Kim and Kim, History of Korean Christianity, 110–111. 66. Kim and Kim, 119.

presbyterians in asia   175 67. Kim and Kim, 123. 68. Reformed Online, s.v. “Korea, Democratic People’s Republic of – (Asia),” accessed March 7, 2017, http://www.reformiert-online.net/weltweit/76_eng.php. 69. John Gordon Melton, “Presbyterian Church of Korea (HapDong),” in Religions of the World: A Comprehensive Encyclopedia of Beliefs and Practices, ed. John Gordon Melton and Martin Baumann (Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2010), 2297. 70. Julie C. Ma and Wonsuk Ma, Mission in the Spirit: Towards a Pentecostal/Charismatic Missiology (Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock, 2010), 148; “Presbyterians,” World Heritage Encyclopedia, accessed December 28, 2018, http://www.worldheritage.org/articles/ Presbyterians#South_Korea.

Bibliography Ahn, Daniel  S.  H. “Changing Profiles: The Historical Development of Christianity in Singapore.” In Religious Transformation in Modern Asia: A Transnational Movement, edited by David W. Kim, 250–273. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2015. Bauswein, Jean-Jacques, and Lukas Vischer, eds., The Reformed Family Worldwide: A Survey of Reformed Churches, Theological Schools, and International Organizations. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1999. Blussé, Leonard. “Retribution and Remorse: The Interaction between the Administration and the Protestant Mission in Early Colonial Formosa.” In After Colonialism: Imperial Histories and Postcolonial Displacements, edited by Gyan Prakash, 153–182. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1995. Breitenbach, Esther. “Scots Churches and Missions.” In Scotland and the British Empire, edited by John MacDonald MacKenzie and T. M. Devine, 196–226. New York: Oxford University Press, 2016. Guhrt, Joachim. “Reformed and Presbyterian Churches.” In The Encyclopedia of Christianity, edited by Erwin Fahlbusch, Jan Milič Lochman, John Mbiti, Jaroslav Pelikan, and Lukas Vischer, 533–541. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2005. Hommes, James Mitchell. “Verbeck of Japan: Guido F. Verbeck as Pioneer Missionary, Oyatoi Gaikokujin, and ‘Foreign Hero.’” PhD diss., University of Pittsburgh, 2014. Johnston, Anna. Missionary Writing and Empire, 1800–1860. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2003. Kim, Henry Hyunsuk. “Horace N. Allen: Missions, Expansionism, Structural Holes, and Social Capital.” Journal for the Sociological Integration of Religion and Society 3, no. 1 (2013): 1–21. Kim, Sebastian  C.  H., and Kirsteen Kim. A History of Korean Christianity. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015. Lovett, Richard. The History of the London Missionary Society, 1795–1895. Vol. 2. London: Oxford University Press, 1899. Melton, John Gordon. “Presbyterian Church of Korea (HapDong).” In Religions of the World: A Comprehensive Encyclopedia of Beliefs and Practices, 2d ed. by John Gordon Melton and Martin Baumann, 2297. Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2010. Nag, Sajal. “ ‘God’s Strange Means’: Missionaries, Calamity and Philanthropy among the Lushais.” In Christianity and Change in Northeast India, edited by T. B. Subba, Joseph Puthenpurakal, and Shaji Joseph Puykunnel, 285–306. New Delhi: Concept Publishing, 2009. Park, Han Soo. “A Study of Missional Structures for the Korean Church for Its Postmodern Context.” PhD diss., Fuller Theological Seminary, 2008.

176   scott w. sunquist and peter lim Poon, Michael. Introduction to Christian Movements in Southeast Asia: A Theological Exploration, edited by Michael Nai-Chiu Poon, ix–xxxv. Singapore: Trinity Theological College, 2010. Powell, Avril A. “ ‘Pillar of a New Faith’: Christianity in Late-Nineteen-Century Punjab from the Perspective of a Convert from Islam.” In Christians and Missionaries in India: CrossCultural Communication since 1500, edited by Robert Eric Frykenberg and Alaine Low, 223–255. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2003. Rohrer, James R. “The Legacy of George Leslie MacKay.” International Bulletin of Missionary Research 34 (2010): 221–228. Roxborogh, John. “The Presbyterian Church.” In Christianity in Malaysia, edited by Robert Hunt, Lee Kam Hing, and John Roxborogh, 75–106. Petaling Jaya, Malaysia: Pelanduk, 1992. Son, Seung Ho. “Christian Revival in the Presbyterian Church of Thailand between 1900 and 1941: An Ecclesiological Analysis and Evaluation.” PhD diss., University of Stellenbosch, 2003. Sunquist, Scott W. Explorations in Asian Christianity: History, Theology, and Mission. Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2017. Sunquist, Scott, David Wu Chu Sing, and John Chew, eds. Dictionary of Christianity in Asia. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2000. Tow, Timothy. The Singapore B-P Church Story. Singapore: Life Book Centre, 1995. Vander Werff, Lyle  L. Christian Mission to Muslims, The Record: Anglican and Reformed Approaches in India and the Near East, 1800–1938. Pasadena, CA: William Carey Library, 1977.

chapter 10

Pr esby ter i a ns i n L ati n A m er ica Alderi Souza de Matos

Introduction “Latin America” is both a geographic and a cultural concept. Geographically, the term describes the region in the Americas south of the United States from Mexico to Argentina, including the Caribbean. Culturally speaking, it refers specifically to the American nations colonized by three Latin countries in Europe: Spain, Portugal, and France. In this sense, some English- and Dutch-speaking countries, despite being part of Latin America, do not share its Latin heritage. Roman Catholicism has been the dominant religious tradition in Latin America since the early days of European conquest and settlement. Protestants, however, made incursions in the region beginning in the sixteenth century. The earliest Protestant presence in Latin America is credited to some Calvinists who went to Brazil in the 1550s and the 1630s. These pioneering experiments were short-lived, though the church started in 1668 in Surinam by the Dutch provided a foundation for the oldest Protestant denomination in Latin America. Protestant work in the region has become increasingly significant since the first half of the nineteenth century, when most nations in Latin America achieved independence. Two factors that contributed to Protestant growth were the liberal, anticlerical influences present in several nations and the arrival of numerous immigrants from Protestant countries. A decisive element was the outstanding missionary effort made by European and North American agencies, most notably through Bible societies and organizations of foreign missions during the 1800s, what came to be known as the “great century of missions.” Presbyterian and Reformed churches are present today in the three main areas of Latin America—Mexico, Central America and the Caribbean, and South America. They were planted through both Scottish immigration and North American and European

178   ALDERI Souza de Matos missionary work. The situation varies greatly from country to country. Mexico and Brazil both have a major Presbyterian presence. This presence is smaller but still significant in Guatemala, Colombia, Cuba, Peru, and Chile. Paraguay, Bolivia, and Uruguay have only recently seen the establishment of small Presbyterian communions. Depending on their theological orientation, the denominations are affiliated with a variety of ecumenical organizations. The more progressive ones have links with the World Council of Churches (WCC) and the Latin American Council of Churches (CLAI). The moderates are connected to the World Communion of Reformed Churches (WCRC) and the Alliance of Latin American Presbyterian and Reformed Churches (AIPRAL). The conservatives have joined the World Reformed Fellowship (WRF) and the Latin American Fellowship of Reformed Churches (CLIR).

Mexico The only country in North America with an Iberian heritage, Mexico has the largest Presbyterian constituency in all of Latin America. Despite its proximity to the United States, Presbyterianism began in the country only in the 1870s. Presbyterian work was a consequence of the Mexican-American War (1846–1848) and was started by two pioneers. Julio Mallet Prevost, a former military surgeon, established a church with a Presbyterian profile in Villa de Cos (Zacatecas). Melinda Rankin, an independent missionary, worked in Matamoros (Tamaulipas) and Monterrey (Nuevo Leon) and eventually transferred her work to the Congregationalists and Presbyterians. Official Presbyterian work began in 1872, when the Board of New York of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) sent four missionary couples and one single worker. The first organized congregations were those of Villa de Cos (1875), Matamoros (1875), and El Divino Salvador in Mexico City (1881). In 1878, ten Mexican ministers were ordained, among them Arcadio Morales, who was a significant pioneer. The first presbytery was organized in 1883, and two years later El Faro magazine began publication. Meanwhile, the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS) also started activities in Mexico, and in 1884, it organized a presbytery. In 1901, the two missions merged their work to form the Synod of the National Presbyterian Church of Mexico (INPM), with four presbyteries. Especially important was the seminary started in Mexico City in 1882. The new denomination had about 5,500 members in seventy-three organized churches and numerous preaching stations. Membership grew steadily until 1910, but it declined somewhat after the Mexican Revolution (1910–1920). Most of the growth occurred among the mestizo population in the southern states of Tabasco, Chiapas, Campeche, and Yucatán. The denomination organized a General Assembly in 1947 that included three synods. Associate Reformed Presbyterians from the United States also went to Mexico in the 1870s. The fruit of their work is the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church of Mexico, an autonomous body since 1964, which operates in the northeastern part of the country.1

Presbyterians in Latin America   179 As of 2018, this denomination had thirty thousand members, about one hundred congregations and new church plants, and five presbyteries. It is a member of World Council of Reformed Churches and operates a theological school in Tampico. Three smaller bodies are the Presbyterian Reformed Church of Mexico, the Independent Presbyterian Church of Mexico, and the National Conservative Presbyterian Church of Mexico. The National Presbyterian Church of Mexico achieved full financial autonomy on its centennial in 1972. In 2014, it had two million adherents, six thousand congregations, seventy-one presbyteries, and fifteen synods. It is a member of the WCRC, the WRF, and the CLIR and has numerous K-12 schools, Bible institutes, and seminaries. INPM’s main theological seminaries are in Coyocán and Mérida. It has been translating the Bible into various dialects since the early twentieth century.

Central America This section of Latin America includes seven nations: Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua, Costa Rica, and Panama and has a combined population of about forty-two million. For more than two hundred years, all of these countries except Belize and Panama formed the Viceroyalty of New Spain (1609–1821). After that, for fifteen years, it was the Federal Republic of Central America (1823–1838). Thereafter, the seven nations became independent states. The last was Panama, which gained independence in 1903.

Guatemala Guatemala is the most populous country in Central America, and it has the highest percentage of indigenous population. Permanent Protestant work was started by Presbyterians after the country’s liberal president Justo Rufino Barrios, during a visit to New York, invited the PCUSA to establish a mission in his country. In 1882, the PCUSA’s Board of Foreign Missions sent Reverend John Clark Hill, who three years later organized a Presbyterian church in Guatemala City, the first Protestant church in the country. Hill was replaced by Edward M. Haymaker, who worked in Guatemala for over fifty years.2 From the outset, the Presbyterian mission was active in education, medical work, and translating the Bible into native dialects. The American hospital in Guatemala City became renowned for the quality of its healthcare, and the Mam Center and the Quiche Bible Institute provided Christian education for natives. The Presbyterian mission helped produce the New Testament in the Cakchiquel language. Unfortunately, a series of difficulties, including frequent earthquakes, limited this Presbyterian work.3 Another problem was that mission work among Amerindians resulted in conflicts between mestizo and indigenous presbyteries. The National Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Guatemala was the first denomination in Central America to obtain self-government (1962). Although it initially concentrated

180   ALDERI Souza de Matos its efforts among the middle classes in urban areas, the denomination eventually reached out to all classes, and its largest synod consists of indigenous peoples, especially the Mayans. Presently, it has six Spanish-speaking presbyteries, twelve indigenous presbyteries, and an estimated twenty-five thousand to fifty thousand members in more than 150 congregations. The church endorses the Westminster Standards but does not require strict subscription from its officers. It has fraternal relations with the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), or PC(USA), and maintains membership in WCRC. Disputes about doctrine and ecumenical relations have produced one major and a few minor secessions. In 1993, the Evangelical Presbyterian Synod of Southwest Guatemala withdrew from the National Church and applied for membership in the American Association of Presbyterian and Reformed Churches (AIPRAL). After the application was denied, it joined in organizing the Latin American Fellowship of Reformed Churches (CLIR), in 1994. The new synod claims 6,700 members and adheres to the Westminster Confession. Two additional small, theologically conservative groups are the Bethlehem Bible Presbyterian Church and the Independent Fundamental Presbyterian Church.

Costa Rica In the nineteenth century, European and North American farmers and merchants introduced Protestantism in Costa Rica. The nondenominational Central American Mission, created by Congregationalist Cyrus I. Scofield, sent the first missionaries to the country, some of whom were Presbyterians. Thirty years later, another agency, later known as Latin America Mission, also entered Costa Rica. Its founder was the Scottish Congregationalist Harry Strachan. Again, the first worker was a Presbyterian—Angel Archilla Cabrera, from Puerto Rico.4 Only in recent years have Reformed church bodies emerged in Costa Rica. In 1982, the Christian Reformed Church in North America started work there. Several Christian Reformed congregations are associated in a national organization, the Presbyterian and Reformed Church of Costa Rica. The CLIR has its headquarters in Costa Rica and includes conservative denominations in many countries. The fellowship holds international conferences, supports church planting in countries with no Reformed witness, provides literature for the churches, and sponsors the training of church leaders. Since 1996, June Gallman, part of the Presbyterian Evangelistic Fellowship in the United States, has conducted a ministry to female prisoners and their families. Strachan’s work resulted in the Association of Costa Rican Bible Churches. In 1985, five of these congregations in metropolitan San José separated and formed the Fraternity of Costa Rican Evangelical Churches, which in 2005 became the Costa Rican Evangelical Presbyterian Church. Today the denomination includes twenty-four congregations and has official ties with the PC(USA). It is a member of the WCRC, the Latin American Council of Churches (CLAI), and AIPRAL. Since the early 1980s, Presbyterians from South Korea have also planted several congregations. In 1985, they adopted the name Korean Presbyterian Church in Costa Rica.

Presbyterians in Latin America   181

Honduras and El Salvador An unusual feature of the religious landscape of this nation distinguishes it from much of Latin America—most Honduran Protestants are not Pentecostals. The chief pioneering missionaries were Anglicans from Belize, the Central American Mission, and the Evangelical and Reformed Church (United Church of Christ). The latter started its work in 1921 in the northwestern part of the country. They created the Evangelical and Reformed Church of Honduras, whose membership today is about fifteen thousand in forty-five congregations and numerous preaching stations. Two additional bodies are the Christian Reformed Church of Honduras and the Reformed Church of Honduras. The Presbyterian Church of Honduras was started by Reformed believers who came from Guatemala in 1960. With the assistance of Presbyterians in their country, they planted churches and engaged in social projects including hospitals, clinics, schools, and drug treatment centers.5 This denomination affirms the Westminster Confession and the Heidelberg Catechism. Its membership is about seven hundred people in seven congregations. Neighboring El Salvador has two small Reformed groups: the Calvinist Reformed Church and the Christian and Reformed Church.

Belize, Nicaragua, and Panama Scottish settlers started Presbyterian work around 1850 in Belize, a small English-speaking country in Central America, formerly called British Honduras. The little body had the initial support of the Free Church of Scotland, but in 1905 it affiliated with the Church of Scotland. Presbyterians started their ministry to native Indians and Spanish-speaking residents in 1958. The pioneer was Manuel Beltrán, a Maya sent by the National Presbyterian Church of Mexico. The National Presbyterian Church of Belize was formed in 1987 and today has seventeen congregations and preaching stations and is assisted by the Presbyterian Church in America. Its seminary started in 2004. Neither Nicaragua nor Panama has any Presbyterian congregations.

The Caribbean These islands east of Central America and north of South America are named after an ethnic group that was present in the region at the time of the Spanish conquest. Another historic designation for them is the West Indies. They include thirteen sovereign states and seventeen dependent territories. The latter are under American, British, French, or Dutch control. The two main areas are the northern Greater Antilles, where the largest islands are located, including Cuba, Hispaniola (Haiti and the Dominican Republic), Puerto Rico, and Jamaica, and the southern Lesser Antilles, with a large number of small islands, most of them under foreign sovereignty. Some consider the Caribbean to be a

182   ALDERI Souza de Matos subregion of North America, but its larger, Spanish-speaking countries make it a part of Latin America. It is the most ethnically and culturally diverse part of Latin America.

Cuba The largest island in the Caribbean was a possession of Spain until the Spanish-American War brought independence in 1898. Presbyterian work initially resulted not from foreign missionary work, but from the efforts of Cubans exiled in the United States during the struggles for independence during the late nineteenth century. Most outstanding among them was Evaristo Collazo, who in 1890 informed the PCUS about three congregations and a school for girls he and his wife had started. Missionary Anthony T. Graybill went to Cuba and organized Collazo’s congregations. Soon other missionaries were sent. After the disruption caused by the Spanish-American War, the PCUS missionaries resumed their work and were joined by others from the PCUSA. The former started a school in Cárdenas. The PCUSA missionaries worked in Havana and were helped by Collazo and Pedro Rioseco. The Presbytery of Havana was organized in 1904 as part of the Synod of New Jersey (it was later named the Presbytery of Cuba). In 1909, Congregationalists transferred their recently started work to the PCUSA, and in 1918, the Disciples of Christ and the PCUS did the same. Julio Fuentes, a former Disciple of Christ pastor, became the first Cuban superintendent of the Presbyterian mission. In the early twentieth century, Cuban Presbyterian pastors received their theological education in Mexico. Later, they were sent to the Evangelical Seminary of Puerto Rico. In 1946, the Evangelical Theological Seminary was started in Matanzas (Cuba) as a joint venture of Presbyterians and Methodists, and later Episcopalians also participated. In 1959, the revolution led by Fidel Castro made Cuba the only Communist country in the western hemisphere. Among Protestant denominations, the Presbyterian Reformed Church in Cuba suffered the least after the revolution. Historian Justo González points out that this is surprising, since the denomination worked exclusively among the upper middle class in the cities.6 The church lost its schools, which were among the finest in the country, and some property, but it continued to function. In 1967, it achieved complete autonomy from the UPC(USA).7 This denomination has been in the vanguard of the ecumenical movement both at home and abroad and is affiliated with the World Council of Churches and the WCRC. It has about fifteen thousand members in fifty-nine ­congregations, three presbyteries, and one synod.

Puerto Rico Protestantism arrived on this small Caribbean island in the wake of the Spanish-American War (1898). Puerto Rico came under American sovereignty, which led to the separation of church and state and the establishment of freedom of worship. Presbyterians arrived

Presbyterians in Latin America   183 officially on the island in 1899, but they had been preceded by Antonio Badillo Hernandez. In 1868, on a visit to the neighboring island of St. Thomas, Hernandez had obtained a copy of the Bible. He studied it, was converted, and testified to others. When missionary Judson L. Underwood arrived at Hernandez’s native Aguadilla, he found a group of believers; this group was the Presbyterian starting point in Puerto Rico. Because of a comity agreement with other denominations, Presbyterians worked primarily in the western half of the island (Mayaguez), where they started a center for theological education, which today is the Inter-American University of Puerto Rico. They also worked in the capital city, where they opened a hospital in 1904 (the Presbyterian Hospital of San Juan). Missionary physician Grace Atkins spearheaded the establishment of medical clinics. Presbyterians cooperated in educational efforts including founding of a college in San Germán.8 The first missionaries to arrive on the island in 1899 were Milton E. Caldwell and J. Milton Green. The Presbytery of Puerto Rico was organized in 1902 as a part of the Synod of Iowa. Together with other denominations, Presbyterians established, in 1919, the Evangelical Seminary of Puerto Rico. The Presbyterian Church in Puerto Rico is affiliated with the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) under the name Sínodo Presbiteriano Boriquén, a synod created in 1973 with three presbyteries. In 2008 it had sixty-nine congregations with about ten thousand members. The Presbyterian Reformed Church in the Caribbean is headquartered in San Juan. Since 2007, it has been affiliated with the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and is a member of CLIR.

The Dominican Republic The Dominican Republic occupies two-thirds of the island of Hispaniola and was the first Spanish colony in the New World. It achieved independence in 1821. In the early twentieth century, rampant corruption and insolvency led to American intervention, which lasted until 1924. Presbyterians from Puerto Rico helped to start an evangelical ministry in the Dominican Republic. The Evangelical Union of Puerto Rico sent representatives to assess the missionary possibilities. In 1916, it requested help from North American mission boards. As a result, the Santo Domingo Board of Christian Service was established in 1920, in which Presbyterians, Methodists, and United Brethren participated. Never before had several denominational boards come together to start a united church in a foreign country. Their effort produced the Dominican Evangelical Church.9 The first sustained effort to plant the Reformed faith in the country occurred in the 1970s. Once again, Puerto Ricans played a part. Believers in Haiti received inquiries from their Dominicans neighbors, who had heard about the Reformed faith through radio broadcasts. The Christian Reformed Church in North America sent Ray Brink and Neal Hegeman and their wives as missionaries. They worked primarily among Haitians who had crossed the border into the Dominican Republic to work in agriculture, but in time, Spanish-speaking congregations were formed among Dominicans. In 1990, the two groups agreed to become part of the Christian Reformed Church in the Dominican

184   ALDERI Souza de Matos Republic, which a decade later had about ten thousand members in eighty-eight ­congregations and preaching stations and became a member of WCRC.

Haiti Haiti occupies the western third of the island of Hispaniola. In 1664, France seized the territory from the Spaniards, and in 1795, a revolt led by Toussaint Louverture secured independence. In 1804, Haiti became a republic. Most Haitians are descendants of the Africans who were imported as slaves to replace the indigenous population. Many of them practice voodoo along with Roman Catholicism. A series of unfortunate circumstances, including several devastating earthquakes, has made Haiti the poorest country in the Western hemisphere. The Christian Reformed Church in North America entered Haiti in 1986 as an extension of its work in the neighboring Dominican Republic. Obelto Cheribin and Emilio Martinez, two Dominican pastors, established the John Calvin Institute and a Christian Reformed congregation in Port-au-Prince. In 1991, the Dominican government repatriated about seventy thousand Haitians, some of whom had become members of the Christian Reformed Church in the Dominican Republic. As a result, that church was formally organized in Haiti with about 1,250 adherents. By 2000, it had twenty-six congregations and three preaching stations. The parent denomination in the United States has helped to meet the spiritual and material needs of this impoverished nation. Presbyterian work in Haiti resulted from the work of two Haitians who were educated at Greenville Presbyterian Seminary in South Carolina. Charles Amicy, a 1995 graduate, is an able evangelist who planted five congregations, with a total membership of nine hundred. His ministry operates four schools, a pharmacy, and a medical clinic. In 2007, Octavius Defils also returned to his homeland to assist the work of the church. Both receive support from the Presbyterian Church of America’s Mission to the World organization and from individual congregations.10

Other Nations Several non-Latin countries in the Caribbean have small Presbyterian or Reformed groups. When the British took control of Jamaica in 1655, they allowed Presbyterians to start evangelistic activities. In 1800, the Scottish Missionary Society sent three workers to evangelize slaves on the sugar-cane plantations. When Jamaica abolished slavery, in 1834, about three hundred thousand people gained their freedom, and many of them professed the Christian faith. Two years later, some congregations formed the Jamaican Missionary Presbytery and created an academy to train native pastors. After a synod was organized in 1848, they began sending missionaries to Africa and India. In 1965, the Presbyterian Church of Jamaica merged with the Congregational Union of Jamaica (established in 1877) to form the United Church of Jamaica and the Cayman Islands, a body of approximately twenty thousand people belonging to two hundred congregations.

Presbyterians in Latin America   185 The Dutch Reformed Church started missionary work in Curacao, Bonaire, and Aruba in 1635, mainly among Europeans. Around 1800 the Reformed congregations on those three islands merged to form what became the Protestant Church of the Netherlands Antilles. After Great Britain gained control of Trinidad and Tobago in 1797, Anglicans arrived in substantial numbers. The Presbyterian presence began in the nineteenth century, when Scottish settlers formed the Trinidad Presbyterian Association and appealed to their homeland for ministers. In 1836, the Free Church sent missionaries to Port-of-Spain who started a church. Ten years later, some persecuted Portuguese believers moved from the island of Madeira to Port-of-Spain and joined the Presbyterian congregation. After slavery was abolished, in 1834, planters employed laborers from India, most of whom were Hindus. Efforts to reach out to this group began in 1867 with the arrival of John Morton, a Canadian Presbyterian, who was soon followed by other missionaries. In 1891, the Scottish and Canadian congregations merged into a single presbytery. The next year, the Canadians started St. Andrew’s Theological College. One of the students, Lal Bihaii, a converted Hindu, was instrumental in spreading the gospel among his fellow Indians. The Presbyterian Church in Trinidad and Tobago became independent from the Canadian church in 1967 and joined the WCRC. Today about forty thousand islanders identify themselves as Presbyterians, but conversions of Hindus and Muslims happen only occasionally.11 Around 1840, Scottish immigrants started a Presbyterian church on the island of Grenada. Growth was substantial after slavery was abolished there in 1880. When the Church of Scotland withdrew its support in 1945, the churches became the Northern Presbytery of the Presbyterian Church in Trinidad and Tobago. The Presbyterian Church of Grenada became autonomous in 1986. It has four congregations and about nine hundred members and is affiliated with WCRC.

South America By far the largest section of Latin America in both area and population, South America consists of thirteen nations, with over four hundred million inhabitants. Its main languages are Spanish and Portuguese, but hundreds of indigenous dialects are also spoken.

Brazil Brazil, the only Portuguese-speaking country in the Americas, has the largest territory and population of any country in Latin America. It also has the second largest Presbyterian constituency in Latin America, after Mexico. During colonial times, two Reformed groups made their presence felt in the territory. In 1557–1558, John Calvin and the Genevan church sent a small band of French Huguenots to Rio de Janeiro, where the

186   ALDERI Souza de Matos vice admiral, Nicholas Durand de Villegaignon had established the “Antarctic France.” The only lasting result of this experiment was the production of the Guanabara Confession of Faith. From 1630 to 1654, the West India Company took control of northeastern Brazil. The Dutch brought with them their Reformed faith, organizing several congregations, two presbyteries, and a synod. This denomination engaged in significant religious and social work among the natives. Upon gaining independence in 1822, Brazil became an empire. The political liberalism of its rulers, politicians, and intellectuals facilitated the introduction of Protestantism. Presbyterian work started in 1859, when the PCUSA sent Ashbel Green Simonton to Rio de Janeiro. Before dying of yellow fever eight years later, Simonton had started the first local church, a newspaper (Imprensa Evangélica), a presbytery, and a theological school. In 1869, in response to requests by North American immigrants in the Province of São Paulo, the PCUS also started its ministry in the country. The missionaries of both denominations joined forces with the national ministers in 1888, when a synod was organized and the Presbyterian Church of Brazil (IPB) became autonomous. Its General Assembly was created in 1910. Besides a vigorous church-planting effort throughout the country, Presbyterian missionaries established many educational institutions. Most important were the International College, today Gammon Presbyterian Institute, and the American School of São Paulo, which is now called Mackenzie Presbyterian University and is one of the largest educational institutions in Latin America. IPB is a member of the WRF and CLIR and promotes classic Calvinism through its Andrew Jumper Presbyterian Graduate Center.12 In 1903, a nationalist group led by Reverend Eduardo Carlos Pereira, upset by the denomination’s acceptance of Freemasonry, formed the Independent Presbyterian Church. Over the years, conflict over doctrinal issues resulted in four new denominations: the Conservative Presbyterian Church (1940), Fundamentalist Presbyterian Church (1956), Renewed Presbyterian Church (1975), and United Presbyterian Church (1978). The Independent and United Presbyterian denominations are members of the WCC and the WCRC. There are also many Korean and Taiwanese Presbyterian churches in Brazil. The combined membership of all the Presbyterian bodies is about one million.

Colombia Colombia achieved its independence from Spain in 1819 as part of the state of Gran Colombia, which also included the present-day nations of Venezuela, Ecuador, and Panama. For a time, it was also known as New Granada. Colombia was the first Latin American country to become a mission field of the PCUSA’s Board of New York. The first missionary, Henry Barrington Pratt, served from 1856 to 1859 and from 1869 to 1878. During the first period, helped by other new missionaries, he produced a vast amount of literature, including a translation of the Bible. The first church was organized in Bogotá during Pratt’s absence, in 1861, with foreign members. The first two nationals were received as members in 1865.13

Presbyterians in Latin America   187 Other cities where Presbyterians planted churches and schools in the initial decades were Baranquilla, Medellín, and Bucaramanga. The American College of Bogotá opened its doors in 1877, and soon other educational and social institutions were established elsewhere. For some time, the PCUS also worked in the country. The initial growth was slow, and the Synod of Colombia, consisting of three presbyteries, was organized only in 1937. Gradually, the church began to make progress and finally became independent from its mother church in 1959. The church survived the terrible political and religious violence that swept the country—La Violencia of 1948 to 1957.14 The Presbyterian Church of Colombia stands out for its social involvement, contribution to education, and the theological training of its ministers. The Presbyterian Seminary of the Greater Colombia, started in Barranquilla in 1982, is now part of the recently organized Reformed University. Today, the church has twelve thousand members in fifty-five congregations. It partners with the PC(USA) and holds memberships in the WCC and the WCRC. Colombian Presbyterianism experienced a division in 1993 between the Presbyterian Synod and the Reformed Synod. The Reformed Presbyterian Church of Colombia has ties with the Presbyterian Church in America. Other smaller communions are the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (established in 1927), the Evangelical Reformed Church (Korean, founded in 1987), and the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (which began in 2005).

Peru The Free Church of Scotland introduced the Reformed faith in Peru. John Alexander Mackay and his wife, Jane, arrived in Lima in 1916, where they founded the AngloPeruvian College (today San Andrés College). After earning a doctorate from the University of San Marcos, Mackay became one of its professors and eventually became highly respected in the local society. Starting in 1921, Reverend Calvin Mackay and his wife, Rachel, planted a congregation in the northern town of Cajamarca. From 1922 to 1955, the medical missionary Sarah MacDougall performed outstanding work in the same town. Nurses Annie Soper and Rhoda Gould worked in the Peruvian jungle. The Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Peru was organized in 1963. Its few native pastors were trained at the Evangelical Seminary in Lima. In 1977, the Dutch Reformed Church started cooperating with the new denomination. In the 1930s, North American missionaries started working in Peru. The pioneers were Reverend Alonzo David Hitchcock and his wife, Bessie, sent by the Bible Presbyterian Church. They went to the southern Andean town of Ayacucho and prioritized the evangelization of the Quechua Indians. This effort led to the creation of the National Presbyterian Church of Peru in 1971. In 1995, after several years of conversation and despite many challenges, this body merged with the Evangelical Presbyterian Church to form the Presbyterian and Reformed Evangelical Church in Peru, which had 136 local congregations and about fifteen thousand members. It is affiliated with the WRF and CLIR. Today, missionaries from the United States, Scotland, Korea, the Netherlands, and Brazil are all active in the country.

188   ALDERI Souza de Matos

Chile The great pioneer of Protestantism in Chile was David Trumbull (1819–1889), a North American Congregationalist minister who arrived in Valparaiso in 1845 as a missionary of the Foreign Evangelical Society. Other missionaries organized churches in Santiago and Valparaíso and ordained the first native minister, José Manuel Ibáñez Guzmán. In 1873, because of financial difficulties, the Foreign Evangelical Society transferred its entire work to the PCUSA’s Board of New York. The Presbytery of Chile was organized ten years later, bringing together the churches in Santiago, Valparaíso, and Concepción and affiliated with the Synod of New York. The growth of Presbyterianism in Chile was slow but continuous until the 1920s. In 1930 there were thirty-one missionaries, fourteen national ministers, and 1,392 communicant members in twenty-four congregations. New churches had been started in the north (Tocopilla, Copiapó) and the central area (Viña del Mar, Rancagua, Curicó, and Chillán). The following decades saw stagnation, theological strife, and divisions. In 1944, a conservative group separated and formed the National Presbyterian Church; in 1960, the new denomination also experienced a split, with the creation of the Biblical Fundamentalist Presbyterian Church. The Presbyterian Church of Chile (IPCh), a WCRC affiliate, became autonomous in 1964, when its synod was organized. At that time, several Brazilian pastors were working in different parts of the country. Three additional schisms occurred between 1968 and 1972. The second half of the twentieth century was a difficult time for Presbyterianism in Chile. For almost fifty years, not a single church was organized in the capital city. Finally, the IPCh adopted a plan of action aimed at revitalization, which inspired the current “2025: 50 churches and 50 pastors” plan.15 Starting in 2001, many young, energetic Brazilian ministers were invited to work in Chile; the same year, the new José Manuel Ibáñez Guzmán Theological Seminary opened. Since 2008, three new churches have been started in Santiago. Hope and expectation pervade the church. The Latin American Center for Reformed Studies is another promising initiative. Other denominations in Chile are the Philadelphia Presbyterian Church, the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, and two Korean communions. The Presbyterian Church in America has made a vigorous church-planting effort in many places. It is estimated that Presbyterians in Chile today number about five thousand.

Venezuela Colombians had a significant impact on the development of Presbyterianism in Venezuela. Most important was Heráclito Osuna, who had lived in Bogota and, along with his family, was converted through the ministry of Henry B. Pratt. He was ordained as an elder in 1878 and went back to his native country eight years later. Soon his home in Caracas became the meeting place for a small Presbyterian congregation. In 1896, the Osunas started the first Protestant school in Venezuela—the American College.

Presbyterians in Latin America   189 The following year, pastor Theodore Strong Pond and his wife, who had served in Colombia, arrived in Caracas.16 They were highly experienced, had solid academic training, and were familiar with the language and culture. They organized El Redentor Church (1900) and started a Bible school and a publishing house. In 1912, a new missionary couple, Frederic and Mary Darley, arrived to help them. The first native minister, Benjamín Roldán, was ordained in 1915. From 1908 to 1958, Venezuela endured dictatorships and political instability. The Presbytery of Venezuela, organized in 1946, six years later claimed seven churches and 450 members. A “five-year plan,” aimed at achieving administrative and financial autonomy, included constructing three church buildings, founding the newspaper El Presbiteriano, and affiliating with the Synod of Colombia. The so-called Fourth Republic (1958–1998) brought remarkable changes to the life of the church. Several ministers from other ­countries came to help, including some from Brazil. In 1961, the church became fully autonomous, although the last North American missionaries remained in Venezuela until 2003. Currently, the Presbyterian Church of Venezuela, which is affiliated with the WCRC, has one synod, two presbyteries, eighteen ministers, seventeen congregations, two schools in Caracas, and about eight hundred members. Since the 1970s, controversy caused by Pentecostalism and theological strife have severely weakened the church. Since 1999, it has also faced the political, ideological, and economic difficulties associated with the regime started by Hugo Chavez.

Argentina The first Presbyterian missionaries to work in the second largest nation in Latin America were Theophilus Parvin III and William Torrey. Sent by the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, they served in Buenos Aires from 1823 to 1835. Presbyterianism was introduced in Argentina by Scottish immigrants, who in 1835 organized in Buenos Aires St. Andrew’s Scotch Presbyterian Church. The first minister was William Brown, who started St. Andrew’s Scotch School in 1838 and pastored the church until 1849. He was succeeded by James Smith (1850–1883) and James Fleming (1883–1925). The Buenos Aires Scotch Church Magazine (currently Revista San Andrés) started in 1880. A key development took place in 1912 with the beginning of worship services in Spanish. This was made possible by the arrival of José Felices, a Spaniard who had been ordained in Spain and studied in Aberdeen. At that time, the Buenos Aires church was spiritually assisting more than eight hundred families in its center-city location and in suburban church plants. The energetic Felices vigorously promoted evangelism in the capital and other provinces and created a home mission board in 1920 to further the saving of souls. Unfortunately, his death in 1941 led to progressive neglect of the Spanishlanguage services, and the mission board was soon terminated. Feeling abandoned, at least eight Spanish-speaking congregations severed ties with the Scottish church, had to vacate their sanctuaries, and either joined other denominations

190   ALDERI Souza de Matos or remained independent. The only congregation that maintained its relationship with the mother church was Temperley, which faced many difficulties. It joined the Presbytery of Chile (in 1948), took the name the Argentinian Presbyterian Church, and returned to the Scotch Presbyterian Church.17 Over time, the Scotch church in Argentina began to distance itself from Scotland and sought to nationalize. In 1981, the word “Scotch” was removed from the denominational name, and two years later, the last Scottish minister retired. In 1987, a century and a half after its organization, the church began to hold services in Spanish. By means of a plebiscite, it severed ties with the Church of Scotland and entered a relationship with the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, a North American denomination. The Iglesia Presbiteriana San Andrés (Saint Andrew’s Presbyterian Church) has been an autonomous body since 2005 and is affiliated with WCRC. It has one presbytery, ten congregations, fourteen ministers, fifty-six elders, and about one thousand members.

Paraguay The first Presbyterian missionary activity in Paraguay began around 1909, when James Hannen, a Scottish Presbyterian pastor, worked among the Guarani Indians with the support of Saint Andrew’s Presbyterian Church in Argentina. The present-day Presbyterian Church in Paraguay started in 1968 as the result of efforts by the IPB. The first worship service was held that year in Concepción. The first missionary, Evandro Luiz da Silva, arrived in 1970. He organized the Concepción church and started two preaching stations. A healer and his family were converted in one of them. The first two native ministers came from this family. To promote evangelization, Silva used soccer and scouting. Other Brazilian pastors led this missionary effort until 1983.18 In 1984, nationals started to take control of the Presbyterian mission. That year, a Brazilian presbytery ordained Buenaventura Giménez López as the first Paraguayan minister. He worked for three years in the Concepción field and later moved to San Lorenzo, near the capital city Asunción, to start a new church. In 1987, his brother, Eulogio Giménez López, was also ordained. Both received their theological training at the Presbyterian Seminary in Campinas, Brazil. Buenaventura planted a church in Asunción in 1989. In 2007, IPB’s Presbyterian Agency for Cross-Cultural Missions gave full autonomy to the Paraguay mission. The Presbyterian Church in Paraguay today has five organized churches (Concepción, San Lorenzo, Colonia 25 de Abril, Asunción, and Santa Rita), three new church developments (Belén, Hugua Ribas, and Pedro Juan Caballero), and approximately 250 communicant members. The Presbyterian and Reformed Church in Paraguay (organized in 1993) is connected to the Korean Presbyterian Church of America. It was started in the 1970s by Korean immigrants in Asunción. This body has twenty-one congregations, about 2,500 Korean and native members, and a theological seminary.

Presbyterians in Latin America   191

Bolivia Koreans pioneered Presbyterian work in Bolivia. In 1982, as Korea celebrated its first centennial of national Presbyterianism, one of the nation’s main denominations sent Eun Shil Chung to Bolivia. Over the years, additional workers followed. The country has a variety of Korean denominations including the Evangelical Presbyterian Church in Bolivia, the Bolivian Presbyterian Evangelical Church, and the Korean Presbyterian Church. In all, there are more than fifty local congregations, mainly in Cochabamba and Santa Cruz de la Sierra. The mission started by Chung has produced a church with over a thousand members, a theological seminary, and the Christian University of Bolivia (1990). As they did in Paraguay, Brazilian Presbyterians worked in Bolivia. The first missionary, João Carlos de Paula Mota, arrived in Cochabamba in 1988. Ten years later a presbytery was organized. Unfortunately, the work declined sharply after Mota left the mission field in 2002.19 The Presbyterian Church of Bolivia has only two congregations (Puerto Suárez and Quillacollo), two native pastors, and 120 members. The Brazilian Independent Presbyterian Church maintains a small effort in the southern town of Tarija. The capital city, La Paz, has four unconnected Presbyterian churches. One of them, the Bible Presbyterian Church, with over a hundred members, has ties with the Biblical Fundamentalist Presbyterian Church in Chile. Altogether, Presbyterians in Bolivia number about five thousand.

Ecuador Although Presbyterians participated in several evangelical cooperative projects in Ecuador during the twentieth century, only in the 1990s was an effort made to plant a Reformed denomination in the country. The Presbyterian Church in America started a mission project in 1991, which produced the Presbyterian Reformed Church of Ecuador, with one presbytery and three congregations in Quito. Unfortunately, since the North Americans left, these congregations have struggled to survive. In 1995, the first missionaries sent by the Zending Gereformeerde Gemeenten arrived in Ecuador. They started the Maranatha Dutch Mission, which has been active in church and social work in Guayaquil, Portoviejo, Machala, and Quevedo. The Reformed faith has also been advanced in Ecuador by the Reformed Center for Theological Studies in Quito. This institution partners with Miami International Seminary to offer undergraduate and graduate programs and provide distance education.

Uruguay Reformed work is very recent in this extremely secularized society. There are two small Presbyterian congregations in the country, both started by Brazilian missionaries: in Rivera, on the Brazilian border—the First Orthodox Reformed Presbyterian Church,

192   ALDERI Souza de Matos organized in 2005, and in Montevideo, the Presbyterian Church of Uruguay, organized in 2016. Additional small Presbyterian groups worship in Montevideo, Rivera, Salto, and Mercedes. The leaders of these different congregations cooperate and dream about creating a single Presbyterian denomination in the country.

The Guianas Surinam, the former Dutch Guiana, is the home of the oldest Reformed denomination in continuous activity in Latin America, the Reformed Church of Surinam, founded in 1668. Today it has only ten congregations and a few hundred members. The capital city has the First Presbyterian Church of Paramaribo, which was started as the Open Door Bible Church in the late 1970s by Baptist pastor Geoffrey Donnan. Assisted by the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, it received its new name in 1988. Today the fiftymember congregation has a native pastor and is under the jurisdiction of the Covenant Reformed Presbyterian Church. The church operates a school with about 350 students, Christian Liberty Academy, which Donnan started in 1979. Guyana, a former English colony, has two ecclesiastical bodies with similar names: the Presbyterian Church of Guyana (PCG) and the Guyana Presbyterian Church (GPC), both affiliated with WCRC. The PCG was started by Scottish immigrants, and its first minister, Archibald Browne, arrived in 1816. After being affiliated with the Church of Scotland from 1837 to 1967, it attained its autonomy. As of 2000, the so-called Presbytery of Guyana had 5,600 members in twenty-five congregations, and its members were predominantly African immigrants. Canadian Presbyterians established the GPC in 1880, and a presbytery was organized in 1945. Its current name was adopted in 1961, after being known as the Canadian Presbyterian Church in British Guiana. Today it has 2,500 members in forty-four congregations, a majority of whom are Asian Indians. Over time, these two churches lost their Reformed identity, primarily because they were influenced by Pentecostalism.20

Concluding Observations This survey demonstrates that after a century of mission work in Latin America, Presbyterianism has a substantial presence in only two countries—Mexico and Brazil. In the other nations, it is weak or virtually nonexistent. The reasons for the limited growth in different areas are manifold: Presbyterians’ limited evangelistic efforts and church-planting investments as compared to those of other denominations; the early withdrawal of foreign missionaries before the national churches had the financial and human resources to function on their own; the perception that Presbyterians are an upper- and middle-class group and little involved with the masses; emphasis on the academic training of the ministers at the expense of the practical aspects of ministry; and the impact of aggressive popular movements such as Pentecostalism.

Presbyterians in Latin America   193 Theological strife has also been a significant factor, because it has led to denominational splits, bred frustration and weakness, and deflected time and energy from more constructive ends. The two main sources of theological conflict are those between conservatives and liberals and those involving Pentecostal or charismatic views and practices. The Pentecostal movement has been particularly successful in Latin America because of the mystical, emotional traits of Latin American traditional religion and culture. Many Presbyterians dislike the intellectual, solemn character of their worship services and are attracted to the effervescent Pentecostal spirituality. Recently, however, an opposite trend has become noticeable: many Pentecostals display a growing interest in the biblical consistency and theological depth of the Reformed worldview. Obviously, Presbyterianism in Latin America is similar in many aspects to its counterparts around the world. One characteristic that may be typical of the movement in Latin America is the tendency to take an episcopal view of church leadership. Influenced by the political history of the continent, many denominations expect their leaders to act more as rulers than moderators. Another trend is a concern about excessive institutional development, in particular, the seemingly endless multiplication of presbyteries and agencies, which are not always created for appropriate reasons. Despite these difficulties, Presbyterians in Latin America can celebrate their achievements in church planting, education, medical work, and promoting human dignity by helping people be reconciled to God through Christ and improving their living conditions through the church’s educational and social ministries. Their ministry has frequently occurred in contexts marked by terrible political, economic, and social conditions. One of their most pressing challenges has to do with the need for continual and intense evangelistic efforts, because in so many countries the Reformed faith has few adherents. Without evangelism and numerical growth, Presbyterian denominations will be institutionally and financially weak and unable to fully contribute to their societies. They also need greater cooperation among themselves. Doctrine is certainly important, but the Reformed denominations in Latin America must transcend their theological differences, find areas of common interest, and engage in fruitful dialogue and joint action. This will enable them to bring to their part of the world the benefits of the gospel as espoused by the Reformed faith.

Notes 1. James  E.  McGoldrick, Presbyterian and Reformed Churches: A Global History (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage, 2012), 361. 2. Justo  L.  González and Carlos Cardoza Orlandi, História do Movimento Missionário (São Paulo, Brazil: Hagnos, 2008), 465. 3. Scott W. Sunquist and Caroline N. Becker, A History of Presbyterian Missions, 1944–2007 (Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2008), 165. 4. McGoldrick, Presbyterian and Reformed Churches, 363. 5. McGoldrick, 367. 6. González and Orlandi, História do Movimento Missionário, 504.

194   ALDERI Souza de Matos 7. Sunquist and Becker, History of Presbyterian Missions, 162. 8. McGoldrick, Presbyterian and Reformed Churches, 375. 9. González and Orlandi, História do Movimento Missionário, 497. 10. McGoldrick, Presbyterian and Reformed Churches, 378. 11. McGoldrick, 374. 12. Alderi S. Matos, Uma Igreja Peregrina (São Paulo, Brazil: Cultura Cristã, 2009), 194, 216, 242, 250. 13. González and Orlandi, História do Movimento Missionário, 432. 14. Carvalho, “Calvinistas na América do Sul,” Teologia Brasileira 50 (2016), http://www. teologiabrasileira.com.br. 15. Carvalho, “Calvinistas na América do Sul.” 16. McGoldrick, Presbyterian and Reformed Churches, 398. 17. Carvalho, “Calvinistas na América do Sul.” 18. Carvalho. 19. Carvalho. 20. Carvalho.

Bibliography Carvalho, Marcone B. “Calvinistas na América do Sul.” Teologia Brasileira 50 (2016). http:// www.teologiabrasileira.com.br. González, Justo  L., and Carlos Cardoza Orlandi. História do Movimento Missionário. São Paulo, Brazil: Hagnos, 2008. Matos, Alderi S. Uma Igreja Peregrina. São Paulo, Brazil: Cultura Cristã, 2009. McGoldrick, James E. Presbyterian and Reformed Churches: A Global History. Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage, 2012. Sunquist, Scott W., and Caroline N. Becker, eds. A History of Presbyterian Missions, 1944–2007. Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2008.

chapter 11

Pr esby ter i a n ism i n the M iddl e E ast Kaley M. Carpenter

Introduction Despite its significant religious and political consequences, a comprehensive history of Presbyterianism in the Middle East remains unwritten. Three developments will serve to illustrate key legacies of the predominantly North American contribution of Presbyterian missions in the Middle East since the nineteenth century: (a) new forms of nationalism among ethnic Christians and Muslims who encountered Presbyterians; (b) the spread of vernacularly communicated evangelical Protestant faith, which continues today in the descendants of converts living in both the Middle East and the West; and (c) the education of Western Christians by both Muslim converts to Christianity and Middle Eastern Christians in effective, culturally contextualized worship and evangelism. When Presbyterians from North America arrived in the Middle East, they brought with them more than their religion: they also brought American Protestant values of literacy, liberty, and “enlightenment,” along with new technologies to spread them— particularly printing. Missionaries’ recording, recovering, or codifying of the languages of indigenous peoples to allow for biblical study in their native tongues helped transform different ethnic-ecclesiastical communities of Middle Eastern Christians into distinctly modern, nationally conscious actors, or what Benedict Anderson called linguistically based “imagined communities.” The subsequent changes in these people’s identities and histories into new forms of nationalism is a direct legacy of Presbyterian missions and has contributed to the contest over religious and political rights among Christian Arabs, Armenians, Assyrians, Copts, Kurds, Palestinians, and Turks today.1 Yet the foreign missionary enterprise was only one chord amid a cacophony of nineteenth- and twentieth-century international upheavals, particularly in the mountainous regions or on the contested boundaries of the Ottoman, Russian, Persian, and Egyptian domains. The Presbyterians in these regions served local people who had long-standing

196   kaley m. carpenter rival religious, cultural, and political claims that were simultaneously independent of and related to larger imperial forces around them.2 Presbyterians found themselves at the center of international developments because their evangelistic work in the Middle East was unavoidably political: in Muslim lands, religion was inseparable from rule, and faith determined civil rights (see the millet system in “Presbyterians and Persian Nationalism in Urmia: A Case Study”). Missionaries operated solely by the permission of foreign governments based on complex, often contentious diplomatic terms negotiated between their homelands and their hosts—terms that often reflected and exacerbated the power disparity between the two sides. Alleging that these evangelists caused “trouble wherever they went,” as some scholars do, however, oversimplifies the complexities on the ground, of which missionaries themselves were sometimes unaware.3 Presbyterians were often strategically exploited by the local people they proselytized. Ottoman, Persian, Arab, and Egyptian rulers also used Presbyterians to try to manage their disparate and often remote citizenries through the educational and medical services the missionaries were providing or by employing divide-and-rule strategies of control (e.g., portraying these services to one ethnic or religious group as being discriminatory toward another). But when the print capitalism that missionary presses and schools generated helped subject people transcend their local ethic-religious self-understanding and embrace a new kind of national consciousness, shahs and sultans saw their power threatened, particularly in Persia (known as Iran after 1936), and the Ottoman Empire (which stretched from present-day Turkey to Egypt).4 New secular, ethnic, or Islamic nationalisms arose in response, which (depending on the larger geopolitical circumstances) sometimes supported but, more often, violently vanquished the politically aspiring Christian communities. Middle Eastern refugees fled abroad and joined Western Presbyterian enclaves, such as those served by the National Middle Eastern Presbyterian Caucus (established c.1898) within the mainline Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA), America’s largest Presbyterian denomination. Today, those Middle Eastern Christians or their descendants increasingly challenge Western-denominational narratives of religion and culture in light of their ethnic identities and experiences of traumatic international events, such as the Israeli-Palestinian conflict or the slaughter of ethnic Christians during World War I, which some have described as genocide.5 Descendants of converts who responded to nineteenth- and twentieth-century Presbyterian missions but still live in the Middle East, worshipping in present-day Egypt, Iran, Iraq, Israel-Palestine, Jordan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Syria, and Turkey, are a second legacy.6 Decades of Reformed Presbyterian presence in each of these countries had produced converts and intercultural relationships before the resulting congregations, particularly in Egypt and Iran, became independent respectively of the UPCNA and the PCUSA (which by the late twentieth century had largely substituted social services for evangelism) or went underground in the face of persecution. Today, newer and smaller North American denominations, such as the Evangelical Presbyterian Church and the Presbyterian Church in America, are evangelizing and developing partnerships in the Middle East. Meanwhile, some Muslims are becoming Christians in their home countries without direct

presbyterianism in the middle east   197 ­ issionary contact and reaching out to Americans for help organizing congregations m along Presbyterian lines. The challenges these native converts face, not only to survive but also to be relevant in their predominantly Muslim contexts, have, as in the United States, determined the songs they sing in worship and how they share their faith ­outside worship. Today, however, native converts are orchestrating how the gospel is communicated to majority Muslim believers in the surrounding culture, while their Western Christian supporters observe and learn from them. Thus, a third legacy of Presbyterians’ Middle East presence is a reversal of the original missionary logic: Muslim Christian converts are modeling for Western missionaries how to communicate Presbyterian theology and polity to Islamic cultures in the Middle East.7

Second Great Awakening Beginnings, Denominational Distinctives The fervor of the Second Great Awakening in the early nineteenth century gave Atlantic coast Presbyterians and Congregationalists, who had adopted a Plan of Union in 1801 to coordinate their mission efforts on the western frontier, an opportunity to also collaborate to spread the gospel abroad. In 1806, five students from Williams College in  Massachusetts, led by future Presbyterian Samuel  J.  Mills, covenanted to share Christianity beyond their “Haystack prayer meeting” to those who had not yet heard its “good news” of grace-given salvation from sin and divine wrath through the work of  Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. With support from Massachusetts Congregational churches, they founded the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM) in 1810. The official addition of Presbyterian support and recruits two years later made the ABCFM the first independent, nondenominational, self-governing national mission board in the United States. Three of the board’s first seven secretaries were Presbyterian.8 The modern missionary movement had begun, and, at its height a century later, numerous Presbyterians were among the twelve thousand American Protestants witnessing abroad under the protection of US-negotiated treaties.9 By 1815, Presbyterians including Mills argued that if missions were one of the church’s most basic functions on earth, then they should be done under the governance and authority of denominations, not by a parachurch organization like the ABCFM. Mills’s vision became a reality with the formation of the Western Foreign Mission Society by the PCUSA’s conservative Pittsburgh Synod in 1831. Six years later, the society was renamed the Foreign Missionary Board (FMB), and after the Civil War it served the whole PCUSA denomination. Then, in an amicable arrangement with the Congregationalists in 1870, the Foreign Missionary Board took over the ABCFM’s work in Iran, Iraq, and Syria and relinquished to the ABCFM full control of the Ottoman-held Turkish field.10 Still other Presbyterians, immigrating to western Pennsylvania and Ohio from ScotsIrish Seceder and Covenanter communions, began distinctive denominational foreign

198   kaley m. carpenter missions immediately. They eventually joined together in the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARPC), which began proselytizing Jews in Syria (1844) and Copts in Egypt (1854), before merging with the Associate Presbyterian Church of North America to form the United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA) in 1858.11 (A distinctly southern division of the ARPC also sent missionaries to Egypt (from 1875 to 1881 and 1985 to 1990) and Turkey (from 1991–2016), and established Christian churches (in 1911), schools (in 1913), and a hospital (in 1915) in Pakistan.12) The PCUSA and UPCNA’s work in Persia, the Ottoman Empire, and Egypt clearly show the connections between foreign missions’ biblically based educational reform, new nationalistic movements, and Christian communities in Muslim lands today.

Presbyterians in Persia, Egypt, and the Ottoman Empire, 1833–1924 Presbyterian missions via the ABCFM in Ottoman lands (beginning in 1833) and Persia (1834), and through the UPCNA in Egypt (1853), were some of the earliest attempts of Americans to share Protestantism and organize churches of converts abroad. American missionaries eventually established congregations comprised of Christian Armenians and Assyrians, as well as former Muslims, Jews, and Zoroastrians, in the hinterlands of the first two regions, and among Copts and small numbers of Muslims in the third.13 Their efforts set a pattern for American Protestant laborers in the Middle East: translation and printing of the Bible into native spoken languages, preaching, church planting, education, and medical service. But they were not alone in these initiatives. (Jesuits had been converting Copts since 1718, and the British Anglican Church Missionary Society (CMA) had been active in Egypt since 1825.) Soon thereafter French Catholics and British Anglicans also founded missions in Persia. Following Presbyterians, they centered their efforts on Urmia, a remote, mountainous, northern region where ancient ethnic Christian communities, including Armenians and Assyrians, existed far away from central Persian government control.14 The Presbyterians’ focus on indigenous believers was strategic: trial and error in the ABCFM’s previous evangelism of Lebanon had already shown that Muslims and Catholic Maronites staunchly resisted direct proselytizing efforts (Ottoman law punished it by death, and Maronites sometimes took such penalties into their own hands). Therefore, Presbyterians in Egypt and Persia, as in Ottoman lands, first held American Protestant-style revival meetings among ancient non-Catholic Christian tribes, whom they believed could subsequently evangelize and influence their Muslim neighbors. They just needed to be “reformed”—both religiously and socioculturally—first.15 The primary method of reform was religious education, made possible by translating the Bible and schoolbooks into the indigenous Christians’ spoken languages. Vernacular translations were the key to a new biblical-based literacy because few indigenous

presbyterianism in the middle east   199 believers, including priests and bishops, understood the ancient languages in which their sacred scriptures were written. This situation resulted in part from centuries of  Muslim restrictions. Middle Eastern Christians were, in the eyes of Presbyterian ­missionaries, essentially biblically illiterate and spiritually dead.16 Regardless of the region where they labored, missionaries’ attempts to revive or reform these Christian churches consistently resulted instead in their division. Ethnic church leaders accurately saw their congregations, their own influence, and the larger social-political order as being threatened, often denouncing the missionaries and discriminating against their followers (even to the point of imprisonment) or offering rival schools and services. Such reprisals only deepened the divisions between the converted and their ethnic churches, producing excommunications and new “evangelical” splinter denominations of Ottoman Armenians in 1846, Arab and Lebanese Christians in Beirut by 1848, Egyptian Copts between 1858 and 1863, and Persian Assyrians in 1871.17 These encounters did, however, spark church reform (even if the results were below American evangelicals’ standards), such as that led by Cyril IV, head of Alexandria’s Coptic Orthodox Church (1854–1861), to increase clerical education and decrease iconography. Armenian Apostolic-run schools were also attempted.18 Protestant missionaries used their diplomatic connections in American and Europe to protect the rights of converts and their new churches (and to ensure that their own evangelistic, educational, and medical work abroad continued) by relying on treaty concessions Western rulers extracted from Eastern governments. Missionaries looked to their religious recruits to influence not only their former church members but also their Muslim neighbors. The latter rarely found evangelical Protestantism compelling because of long-standing ethnic-religious tensions with or condescension toward Christians. Nevertheless, both minority Christian and majority Muslim believers flocked to Protestant schools. Missionaries prayed that their multipronged presence would at least disseminate a morally purified modern spirit that would eventually penetrate and change both the resistant Eastern churches and Muslim culture. Presbyterian missions in Persia produced precisely this in an Assyrian Christian form of nationalism, which can be understood against the backdrop of rapid geopolitical change and alongside parallel developments in Ottoman Turkey and Egypt.

Presbyterians and Persian Nationalism in Urmia: A Case Study In the province known as Azerbaijan, where Russians, Ottomans, and Persians vied for control, Presbyterian minister and ABCFM missionary Justin Perkins brought biblical revival to Assyrian Christians in their ancient Church of the East. His linguistic and cultural study at the side of Mar Yahannon, Urmia’s unusually receptive church bishop, successfully equipped him to lead the station, with its church, schools, and printing

200   kaley m. carpenter house, for three decades.19 Their friendship and joint labors produced not only boys’ (1836) and girls’ (1838) schools for teaching both academic subjects and eventually trades, but also translations into the vernacular Syriac of the Hebrew Bible (1846) and the Greek Scriptures (1852). The primary schools supplemented the uluma-led mektab classroom and Muslim clerical-led elementary institutions, which instructed children only up to ages eight or nine.20 In 1849, the mission’s press also published Persia’s first periodical, Rays of Light, in the indigenous language and disseminated it for popular consumption, along with English textbooks, hymnbooks, Sunday school materials, and classic Puritan works—all translated into the common local language. These latter texts supported the goals of the mission’s “seminary” (begun in Perkin’s home in 1836) in which youth and adults were taught Reformed theological doctrines, including salvation through grace alone.21 Like his ABCFM colleagues who hoped to “awaken” Ottoman Armenians, Perkins aimed to “revive” these “Nestorians” religiously and culturally through such resources; he had not intended to birth a separate rival church. However, he and other Protestant missionaries underestimated the profound differences in worldview between themselves and these established Christian peoples, which resulted in this schism.22 More than their Reformed missionary mentors, Assyrians and Armenians (as well as Muslim Kurds and Turks) understood all of life as spiritually defined and faith and church as inseparable from one’s ethnicity. Presbyterian missions, however, along with other foreign ecclesiastical options (Roman Catholic and Russian Orthodox) gradually separated religion from native peoples’ ethnic identities, where no such division had previously existed. By divorcing religion from ethnicity through providing a menu of spiritual choices, foreign missions effectively “secularized” faith in the Assyrian community. Yet this simultaneously created the conditions for a new kind of unifying identity—nationalism—that compensated for the loss.23 The 1870 change of the mission’s name a year after Perkins’ death demonstrates these shifting identities. Mission to Nestorians (a distinct religious sect) became Mission to Persia (a geopolitical entity) as it was transferred from the ABCFM to the PCUSA. The 1871 launching of the new Protestant “Assyrian” Evangelical Church of Urmia also communicated through its name a new nationalistic identity that claimed continuity with the great Assyrian empire that had ruled Mesopotamia in prebiblical times. It thus asserted a historical status that differed from its fellow ethnic Christians in the Church of the East.24 The Assyrian evangelicals sought official Ottoman recognition and protection as a bona fide millet, or religious organization, for their mountain-dwelling members just inside the empire’s borders, along with all the sociocultural and political rights that attended millet status under Ottoman law. Evangelicals did this because most leaders of the Church of the East and the Armenian Apostolic Church—like the Lebanon Maronites a generation earlier—had reviled Protestant proselytizing and the fleecing of their flocks. The new church quickly provided early training in Presbyterian-style representative democracy and self-government. Converts soon employed these skills on a national level against both spiritual and geopolitical encroachments by Russia. In 1898, the last remaining Urmian bishop in the Church of the East converted his flock of twenty-thousand to Russian Orthodoxy, ostensibly as much for political and

presbyterianism in the middle east   201 military reasons as spiritual ones.25 The sudden loss of fellow Assyrians to the Russian state church spurred religious-political unity between the evangelical converts and their Church of the East brethren where division once reigned. The same missionary-school alumni who had internalized Protestant doctrine—even to the point of splintering off into their own denomination—were some of the first Assyrian nationalists who sought to reform their people both ecumenically and politically. They joined the remaining Church of the East members in Persia to promote its ancient Patriarch as the natural political representative of all Assyrians’ interests in order to bring the concerns of their “nation” to both Persian governors and Ottoman sultans. Rays of Light contributor Abraham Morhatch had called for such activism a year earlier: “Was it not better for all of us that we distinguished religion from nationality? It is not necessary that the members of one nation should simply believe in one [religious] rule. Faith forms confession, not nation. As soon as our men learned to distinguish national business from religious business we did not fear to say that [the nation] is making a step towards unity.”26 Similar sentiments issued from the first Assyrian political journal, The Star, produced in 1906 on the very same missionary press that had churned out Rays of Light for sixty years—a perfect example of Presbyterians’ diffuse influence in foreign political culture.27 Even Muslims who rejected the Presbyterians’ Christian message utilized the missionary schools’ intellectual, moral, and cultural teachings in their urban political organizing. Modernizing Mohammad Shah Qajar (r. 1834–1848) paved the way by asking the Urmia mission for equivalent but separate Muslim schools. Presbyterians thus made their “American norms and Christian teaching” available to Persia’s urban middle and upper classes with modified, yet still-present, biblical content.28 These schools—and, eventually, hospitals—spread, contributing profoundly to nationalism among Persian Christians and Muslims, both men and women.29 According to Jasamin Rostam-Kolayi, Presbyterian girls’ schools, epitomized by the Tehran-based Iran Bethel School and its pioneering female missionary staff, developed modern Muslim women who rejected the “darkness and barbarity of Islam,” as seen in “child marriage, temporary marriage, and polygamy,” and who appreciated “both the evangelizing and modernizing projects of Christian missionaries without becoming Christians or mini-Americans.” These originally rural Christian institutions became integrated sites of modern learning for urban Muslims long before the Qajar government could meet the needs of Persia’s growing middle class. Muslim girls (and their Armenian, Jewish, and Zoroastrian counterparts) who experienced these schools’ academic, domestic, biblically based “Christian character” curricula (and who had government-inspected and approved compulsory chapel throughout the 1930s) went on to become professional social workers, civil servants, artists, and philanthropic leaders in what soon became the increasingly modern, secular state of Iran.30 Iran Bethel’s brother school, Alborz College, boasted of similarly successful alumni. Presbyterian educational missions thus not only achieved Christian conversions and church planting but also wielded political and cultural influence. This influence is most clearly seen in the Persian Constitutional Revolution, born in December 1905 of merchant and Muslim cleric determination to end two generations of

202   kaley m. carpenter Qajar shahs’ profligate spending on modernization and their own luxurious living. The country’s massive debt to Russia and Britain resulted in economically damaging trade concessions on exports, such as tobacco and oil to Britain. Persian Muslim and Christian Assyrian men and women who had received Presbyterian missionary education joined the street protests.31 Their demands for elected parliamentary (majles) control over the government was part of a democratic awakening and captured the imagination of American evangelists, proving that Assyrians could apply this new concept of “nation” on both the national and ecclesiastical levels. Presbyterian missionary-teacher Howard Baskerville, for example, resigned his school post to join the Persians’ fight “for their rights”; he died in 1909 while leading a militia made up of his Assyrian students to oppose the Qajar shah Mohammad Ali’s unsuccessful attempt to regain control in the historic capital city of Tabriz.32 Baskerville was motivated by the same logic that lay behind the internationalism of the Presbyterian US president, Woodrow Wilson—namely, the sense, in historian Adam Becker’s words, that “humanity is organized into the constituent units of nations . . . as essential parts of humanity that need to be organized individually for freedom.” Becker describes three generations of Assyrian Protestant converts who “shared Republican Christian concerns for freedom” and rejected “forms of tyranny, whether mental or political.”33 This contribution of Presbyterian missions to Persia was social and political, as well as spiritual.34 Their exposure to American ideas in the Presbyterian schools inspired both Persian Muslims and Assyrian Christians to participate in national reform. By 1911, other missionary school alumni beyond Baskerville’s students were fighting against Russian interference with the majles’ attempts to restore financial and social order in the country. They also advocated for equal education and freedom from the veil for women.35 The nationalists’ victory over the intransigent Qajars was brief, however. Russia annexed Tabriz (1909–1911) in a prelude to its battle for control of the region against the Islamic Ottoman Empire, which joined the Central Powers in World War 1.36 The larger international contest between Muslim and Christian countries exacerbated local religious and tribal tensions among Persians, Assyrians, and Kurds: each community aligned with invaders of the same faith and panicked when they were routed. This caused havoc as Russia, then the Ottomans, and lastly Britain dominated the region. The Urmia mission attempted to stay above the fray, equally succoring Muslim Kurds and Persians alongside Assyrians under the neutral American flag (itself the result of American Protestant influence urging Woodrow Wilson to protect the missionary infrastructure in Ottoman lands), thanks to its head missionary’s doing double duty as the official US consul. This multitasking, however, not only blurred lines of church and state but also demonstrated Allied British sympathies and potentially alienated local Muslims.37 But Persian nationalism, like Turkish independence (see “Ottoman and Egyptian Parallels”), won out against European imperialism in the postwar Middle East. The Pahlavi tribe succeeded in besting the Qajars and the British: it consolidated power over the country, which it soon called “Iran” in all diplomatic communications, and slowly vanquished the political aspirations of the Assyrian minority. Reza Shah (1925–1941),

presbyterianism in the middle east   203 Iran’s first leader, worked for the next twenty years to oust Presbyterian missions from the country as part of his thoroughly nationalist agenda, paradoxically supporting the mission schools that were promoting nationalism.38 Michael Zirinsky documents the Pahlavi government’s suspicion of and concerted efforts against Presbyterians missions in Urmia. By 1923, Urmia had been renamed Reza’iyeh when only ruins of its mission station remained after starving local Muslims attacked its supplies. Foreign minister Mohammad Mosaddeq and others charged that the missionaries were interfering with the government’s policy of nationalization by keeping “alive a minority consciousness among the Assyrian people” and being “involved in the revolutionary movements” through such missionary centers. Presbyterians lost their mission properties to government control in 1933, and all their schools to Iran’s nationalization of education by 1940. Pahlavi government representatives informed American diplomats and Presbyterian educators that they sought to “get rid of missionaries” because of the threat posed by minority-faith citizens’ developing national identities other than Iranian. As future Prime Minister Mohammad Ali Foroughi bluntly informed the head of Alborz College, “Assyrians are Assyrians to most [Iranian] people and [Iranians] do not discriminate between the savage mountaineers and the peaceful people of the Urumieh plain.”39 A separate Assyrian identity threatened the Iranian one. But the loss of American expertise was risky, too; therefore, the Pahlavi government allowed veteran missionary staff to remain at the nationalized schools and continue their valued educational work. By the eve of World War II, Presbyterian missions in Iran ceased to exist as they had the previous century. The church consisting of Assyrian evangelicals had become fully independent of the PCUSA, and it successfully petitioned the (increasingly secular) Pahlavi government to be allowed to run its own religious elementary and high schools. The Anglican body of Persian Christians did the same.40 Iranian historian Yahya Armajani notes that the two churches—just as different Reformed bodies in the United States had done a century earlier—entertained the idea of union to have a stronger, unified Christian witness amid the increasingly secular and dictatorial Pahlavi state. But they stopped short of union, choosing instead to collaborate in a Presbyterian-Anglican literature committee that produced, hosted, or distributed Bible-study classes, evangelical youth conferences, books, pamphlets, a hymnal and, almost century after the Urmia mission’s Rays of Light, a Christian magazine.41 Armajani was precisely what the Presbyterian mission had dreamed of producing. Born into a Muslim peasant family in 1908, Armajani had converted to Christianity and was sent by his Presbyterian mentors to study in the United States, first at the denomination’s Emporia College in Kansas, where he earned a bachelor’s degree in 1930; at Princeton Theological Seminary, where he earned a master of divinity degree in 1933; and at Princeton University, where he earned a PhD 1939. He returned to Iran to teach at Alborz College (intermittently from 1927 to 1940) until Reza Shah nationalized all schools shortly before World War II. The war quickly brought the Anglo-Russian invasion of Iran and forced the Shah’s abdication. After working for the PCUSA and its Board of Foreign Missions, Armajani became a respected historian at the Presbyterian-founded Macalester College in Minnesota, where he taught from 1946 to 1974, mentoring students

204   kaley m. carpenter such as fellow Presbyterian Walter Mondale, future Democratic US senator and vice president, and Kofi Annan, the future United Nations secretary. Armajani’s Iran (1970) and Middle East, Past and Present (1972) led the Carnegie Council for Ethics in Foreign Affairs to seek his expertise during the 1979 Iranian Revolution, which channeled pent up rage at brutal Pahlavi domestic policies implemented by Reza Shah’s son and successor Mohammad, whom rioting Iranians finally deposed, and at the United States, which had for five decades supported the family’s increasingly despotic regime. Pahlavi critic and Shiite cleric Ayatollah Khomeini filled the power vacuum, harnessing conservative Iranian Muslims’ rejection of Western culture, ejecting all remaining American educators in the former mission schools, and creating an Islamic theocracy. Armajani’s essay, “What the U.S. Needs to Know about Iran,” appeared in the Carnegie Council World Review in May 1979, just four months before Vice President Mondale had to face the abduction of sixty-six Americans from the American Embassy in Tehran.42

Ottoman and Egyptian Parallels through World War II As in Iran, Assyrians were persecuted by Muslim majorities in the Ottoman Empire during wartime regime change, but suffered far worse alongside fellow Christian Armenians. Ottoman Armenians also traced their heritage back to a powerful empire— that led by King Tiridates whom St. Gregory the Illuminator (257–332 ce) converted to Christianity. From European metropolises where many had been educated and radicalized for rebellion against Ottoman rule, Armenians had begun organizing nationally a century before the Assyrians and Copts (see “Coptic National Identity”). Inspired by the American and French revolutions, they took advantage of Britain’s and Russia’s m ­ ilitary victories over the Ottomans—particularly in the Greek war for independence (1821–1831), the Balkan insurrections (1875), and the Russo-Turkish War (1877–1878)—by demanding greater rights through treaty negotiation, print journalism, and political party organization. Between those conflicts, Armenians succeeded in receiving Europeanleveraged and reluctant Ottoman approval to create their own National Assembly and constitution (1863), which allowed them increased economic and judicial autonomy in the Empire. But after Sultan Abdul Hamid II (1876–1909) came to power contingent on promulgating additional reforms through the empire’s first constitution (hailed by Muslims and Christians alike), he suspended the document, prompting an Armenian complaint to Europeans at the Treaty of Berlin (1878).43 Their activism cost them. Armenian Christians’ appeals to foreign powers and the resulting interventions fed a “vicious circle of repression” in which diplomats’ calls for reform “unleashed renewed popular attacks.” Urban Armenian revolutionaries’ message spread to poor and remote Armenians deep within the interior who, like their Assyrian counterparts, used missionary schools and presses to recruit others (doing so furtively

presbyterianism in the middle east   205 and against ABCFM policy because of Ottoman prohibitions against it). Sultanic reprisals against the Armenians’ efforts were executed by Kurdish and Ottoman troops (1892–1897), claiming hundreds of thousands of Armenian and Assyrian lives—but not without Protestant missionary protests through both European and American presses and politicians, and independent, international Christian relief efforts to which Presbyterians contributed. Armenian survivors immigrating to New Jersey made up the first congregation of the PCUSA’s National Middle East Presbyterian Caucus (NMEPC) during this time.44 Just as they had in Persia, Muslims also protested Ottoman despotism. Secular “Young Turk” reformers eventually joined forces with Armenian revolutionaries to oust the sultan and create a modern nation-state in 1908. Presbyterian missionaries unofficially welcomed the “bloodless” revolution, as they had the Persian constitutional campaign and, later, British rule in Egypt (see “Coptic National Identity”), anticipating their potential for larger cultural conversion. But events again revealed that ethno-religious nationalisms which rivaled imperial identity could not survive in the crucible of war. A ruthless military campaign ordered by the ultranationalist Committee for Unity and Progress that had emerged out of the Young Turks defeated Armenian hopes for geopolitical independence beginning in 1915. It resulted in the deaths of so many Armenians and Assyrians that scholars and politicians continue to debate whether it was genocide.45 Presbyterian missionaries, alongside ABCFM volunteers, reprised their humanitarian role from war-torn Persia and aided survivors through the American ecumenical, missionary-founded and administered organization Near East Relief (NER) while European countries carved up the defeated Ottoman Empire at the Versailles Peace Conference. Army general Mustafa Kemal Ataturk’s successful fight for Turkish independence against the Allies’ invasion of the empire preceded Iran’s and Egypt’s; his resulting Turkish republic became the first Western-styled secular Middle Eastern democracy promising religious freedom. Turkey, like Iran, nationalized missionary schools and secularized their instruction while keeping missionary staff to maintain continuity.46 Unlike their Assyrian counterparts in Persia, however, few Christians remained in Turkey: Armenian survivors saved by NER efforts evacuated to and formed evangelical church unions in Syria, France, and America.47

Coptic National Identity and Independent Church Formation A similar national identity as a storied ancient people arose among Egypt’s Copts as it had among the Assyrians at the turn of the twentieth century. In addition to Coptic Church reforms precipitated by Presbyterian competition, “pharaonism,” the belief that Copts descended from ancient Pharaohs, was inspired partly by Presbyterian missionaries.

206   kaley m. carpenter The ideology challenged both the Coptic church hierarchy and the dominant Muslim culture. Through it laymen, claiming to have a dignity and power that existed before both Christian and Muslim civilizations, organized into the Coptic Community Council. It used the press to challenge priestly power over the Coptic church’s wealth and educational institutions and the Shari’a-inspired laws governing the family. On display (literally) through the Coptic Museum (established in Cairo in 1908), pharaonism also served Muslims, who began challenging British rule (imposed in 1882) after Egypt’s insolvency brought even more direct, drastic exercises of English power over it than Qajar Persia had experienced.48 How Presbyterians negotiated their relationship with European empires in the Middle East contributed to further permutations of nationalism. Missionaries had supported Western ideas about making democratic change abroad, privately and at times publicly criticizing Ottoman, Persian, and Egyptian rule, to facilitate Christian converts’ freedom and influence. Yet they also exploited British imperialism in Egypt to evangelize Muslims more freely than they had anywhere else in the Islamic world. Leveraging these increased missionary freedoms, however, ultimately compromised the UPCNA’s work. It contributed to a backlash of Islamic-based Egyptian nationalism, which grew during Britain’s gradual withdrawal beginning in 1922 and then with Gamal Abdel Nasser’s 1952 pan-Islamic revolution, which completely ousted Britain from Egypt. Although there was no equivalent purge of Christians in Egypt as there had been in Ottoman lands, the post-British period produced anxiety for Coptic converts. It also increased their independence from their American sponsors. By 1958, Presbyterian Egyptians, like Assyrians in Iran, had formed their own denomination, the Evangelical Church of Egypt (Synod of the Nile), the same year that its UPCNA founder and the PCUSA merged into one American denomination.

Israeli Nationalism and Presbyterians in the Middle East, 1948 Onward The most significant nationalistic movement affecting Presbyterians in the Middle East after World War II emanated not from evangelized Christian communities but from the Jewish people in Palestine. They were joined by Zionist émigrés and Nazi Holocaust survivors from all over the world in founding Israel in 1948 at the expense of neighboring Palestinian Arabs, much to the chagrin and published criticism of Iranian and Egyptian Presbyterians.49 Israel’s occupation of additional territory from Egypt, Syria, and Jordan—other sites of long-standing Middle Eastern Presbyterian missions— in the Arab-initiated Six Day War (1967) led to the evacuation of Egypt’s last American Presbyterian missionaries. Iran’s Islamic Republic soon sponsored reprisals for US military and diplomatic support to Israel: it funded campaigns by Hamas, Hezbollah, and Islamic Jihad against Israel and its allies, and even targeted Presbyterians who continued

presbyterianism in the middle east   207 spiritual and humanitarian ministries to the violence-ravaged region. The kidnapping and sixteen-month imprisonment in 1984–1985 of Ben Weir of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) by Islamic Jihadists ended as part of the Iran-Contra Affair during Ronald Reagan’s presidency. Despite—or perhaps because of—his ordeal, Weir continued to advocate for Palestinian rights amid the “aggressive institution of the Israeli state,” words that the future PCUSA’s calls for economic divestment from businesses benefiting from Israeli contracts would echo.50 The 1979 Islamic Revolution chilled US-Iran relations over Israel, and the backlash against non-Muslims (especially in the forms of employment and housing discrimination) caused many Assyrians and Armenians to leave Iran.51 Those who stayed have increasingly worshipped in secret house churches. Presbyterian missions have continued clandestinely, conducted primarily outside the country by organizations such as Operation Mobilization (OM, 1957), the Outreach Foundation (1979), and Frontier Fellowship (1981), all of which were founded or supported by individual evangelical Presbyterians and their congregations in the PC(USA) the Presbyterian Church in America, and ECO: A Covenant Order of Evangelical Presbyterians (denominations formed after leaving the PCUSA in 1972 and 2012 respectively.).52 Their strategies have ranged over the decades from old-fashioned tract and literature distribution to highresolution and satellite-streamed television programming. OM has the longest track record; it has been in both Iran and Turkey since the 1960s, when its Presbyterian and other volunteers, along with a handful of Muslim converts to Christianity, provided Bible correspondence courses to all who were interested. In Turkey, anonymous stuffing of mailboxes with this material began a two-decade cycle of arrests and deportation until the Christians’ sentences were acquitted by Turkish courts in the 1980s which upheld the Christians’ constitutional religious freedoms, according to Ataturk’s western reforms. Small numbers of Turks began coming to faith in unexpected ways, such as the professional translator whom OM hired to render English material into Turkish, who came to faith during the process. Yet translating the gospel message into modern media has yielded greater results.53 In the mid-1970s, some OM staff joined Middle East Media (MEM, based in Lebanon) which specialized in what Presbyterian Assyrians had pioneered a century before: magazine production. Professional children’s animated broadcasts followed in the 1980s. In 1996, OM and MEM veterans launched SAT-7, the first Arabic Christian satellite television station, which created a Farsi-broadcast, SAT-7 PARS, in 2006. These multimedia tools have since given rise to thousands of Egyptian viewers and hundreds of undocumented Iranian Christian house churches that have been growing through conversions and baptisms without direct personal contact with Western Christian believers. In this digital era of satellite-transmitted missions, such denominations as the ARPC now work in conjunction with SAT-7 PARS to evangelize and support immigrant Iranians in and around Washington, DC. Like nineteenth-century Christian Copts and Assyrians who recovered their historic ancestry in conceptualizing new nationalistic identities, twenty-first-century Iranian converts find a Christian identity that is compelling in part because of the positive references to ancient Persia’s salvific

208   kaley m. carpenter role in Judeo-Christian redemptive history they find in the Bible. In contrast, there is nothing about Persia in the Koran or Islamic historiography.54 Similar connections between Christianity and culture are happening in Turkey. A SAT-7 TURK channel was launched in 2006 to do Turkish-language broadcasting; in 2016 it became the first Christian programming to be allowed by the governmentregulated “Turksat” satellite service.55 Turkish converts who are now leading fellow Muslims to faith began their spiritual journeys with steps taken within Islam itself. Verses in the Koran about Jesus and bits of Christianity filtered through Western books, films, and television that had been brought into the country led some to conversions. Intrigued by their Muslim professors’ casual historical mention of Jesus, others investigated his life and work by reading the Gospels. Still others became attracted to the worship style and organized theological framework they saw first in Presbyterian churches in East Asia. Such local and global Christian connections brought some of these Turks to the Presbyterian Church of America, which has responded to their requests for support. Twenty years later, these Turks are now leading growing churches in which they, not foreign missionaries, set the tone for communicating Christianity to their fellow citizens. Simultaneously, they are teaching their Western supporters about how to translate the gospel into their particular Muslim context in culturally sensitive ways (i.e., by singing Christian lyrics to both traditional Sufi and popular contemporary music in worship), and are now recognized experts in this enterprise.56 Therein lies the contrast with the Presbyterians who ventured east two centuries ago. Nineteenth-century missionaries, initially prevented from evangelizing Muslims and not understanding that their gospel activity could lead to rival nationalistic identities, attempted to revive indigenous Christians’ piety but helped produce new religious communions and revolutions instead. They thus contributed to local conflicts and larger conflagrations in the Ottoman Empire, Egypt, and Iran. Yet the seeds sown by their preaching, education, healthcare, and humanitarian relief were also ameliorative. They are still bearing fruit on both sides of the globe, most notably in a new generation of Muslim converts whose Christian identity—like that of their ethnic Christian ­predecessors—both joins and transcends their national citizenship, but who are uniquely able to understand and teach Western Presbyterians the geopolitical realities of the Muslim world and how to share the gospel within it.

Notes 1. Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism (London: Verso, 2016); Adam  H.  Becker, Revival and Awakening: American Evangelical Missionaries in Iran and the Origins of Assyrian Nationalism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015); Hans-Lukas Kieser, Nearest East: American Millennialism and Mission to the Middle East (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 2010); Michael Oren, Power, Faith, and Fantasy: America in the Middle East, 1776 to the Present (New York: W. W. Norton, 2007); and Heather J. Sharkey, American Evangelicals in Egypt: Missionary Encounters in an Age of Empire (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008).

presbyterianism in the middle east   209 2. Owen Miller, “Sasun 1894: Mountains, Missionaries, and Massacres at the End of the Ottoman Empire” (Ph.D. diss., Columbia University, 2015), 3–7, 58–83; and Gordon Taylor, “Asahel Grant: The First American to Fail in Iraq,” History News Network, December 2, 2007, https://historynewsnetwork.org/article/44830. 3. Hannibal Travis, “The Assyrian Genocide: A Tale of Oblivion and Denial,” in Forgotten Genocides: Oblivion, Denial, and Memory, ed. René Lemarchand (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2011), 125; and Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 24, 37. 4. Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism (London: Verso, 1983); Jeremy Salt, “Trouble Wherever They Went: American Missionaries in Anatolia and Ottoman Syria in the Nineteenth Century,” Muslim World 92 (2007): 287–313, https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1478-1913.2002.tb03745.x; Salt, The Unmaking of the Middle East (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2009); and Michael Zirinsky, “American Presbyterian Missionaries at Urmia during the Great War,” in Proceedings of the International Roundtable on Persia and the Great War (Tehran: Iran Chamber Society, 1997), accessed January 8, 2019, http://www.iranchamber.com/religions/articles/american_ presbyterian_missionaries_zirinsky.pdf. 5. David  A.  Hollinger, Protestants Abroad: How Missionaries Tried to Change the World but  Changed America (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2017); Xi Lian, The Conversion of Missionaries: Liberalism in American Protestant Missions in China, 1907–1932 (University Park: Pennsylvania State University Press, 1997); and Melani McAlister, Epic Encounters: Culture, Media, and U.S.  Interests in the Middle East, 1945–2000 (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001). See also the National Middle Eastern Presbyterian Caucus USA website, http://nmepcusa.org/about-us/. 6. See “Middle East,” Presbyterian Mission, Programs and Services, accessed March 2, 2018, https://www.presbyterianmission.org/programs-services/middle-east/. 7. Phil Linton, director of Evangelical Presbyterian Church World Outreach, phone interview by the author, April 18, 2018. 8. Charles A. Maxfield, “The ‘Reflex Influence’ of Missions: The Domestic Operations of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, 1810–1850” (PhD diss., Union Theological Seminary, 1995), accessed February 14, 2018, http://www.maxfieldbooks.com/ abcfm.html#S1c. 9. Daniel H. Bays, “The Foreign Missionary Movement in the 19th and Early 20th Centuries,” Divining America: Religion in American History, National Humanities Center TeacherServe Essays by Leading Scholars (2005), accessed January 8, 2018, http://nationalhumanitiescenter.org/tserve/nineteen/nkeyinfo/fmmovementc.htm. 10. Michael Parker, “175 Years of Presbyterian World Mission,” Presbyterian Historical Society: The National Archives for the PC(USA) (2012), accessed January 8, 2019, https://www. history.pcusa.org/history-online/topics-note/history-world-mission; Frederick J. Heuser Jr., “Presbyterians in Mission: A Historic Overview,” in A Guide to Foreign Missionary Manuscripts in the Presbyterian Historical Society (New York: Greenwood Press, 1988), xxi–xxv; and Bradley  J.  Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 91–92, 114–15. 11. Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 3–4; and “Guide to the United Presbyterian Church in the  U.S.A.  Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations Records,” Presbyterian Historical Society: The National Archives for the PCUSA (1987), accessed January 8, 2019, https://www.history.pcusa.org/collections/research-tools/guides-archival-collections/ rg-209.

210   kaley m. carpenter 12. Heiko Burklin, Board of Foreign Missions of the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church, phone interview by the author, April 12, 2018; “ARP Christian Schools in Pakistan: An Outreach of World Witness, the Board of Foreign Missions of the ARP Church, USA—History,” accessed January 8, 2019, http://www.arpschoolspak.org/history/; “Christian Hospital,” World Witness, the Board of Foreign Missions of the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church, accessed January 8, 2019, http://www.chspakistan.com; and “Addresses: Pakistan Synod of the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church,” Reformiert Online, accessed January 8, 2019, http://www.reformiert-online.net/adressen/detail.php? id=1443&lg=eng. 13. Yahya Armajani, “Christianity viii: Christian Missions in Persia,” Encyclopaedia Iranica (New York: Columbia University, 1996) online edition (updated October 18, 2011), available at http://www.iranicaonline.org/articles/christianity-viii; and Jasamin Rostam-Kolayi, “From Evangelizing to Modernizing Iranians: The American Presbyterian Mission and Its Iranian Students,” Iranian Studies 41 (2008): 215n5. 14. Becker, Revival and Awakening, 274–279; and Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 20, 23. 15. Ussama Makdisi, Artillery of Heaven: American Missionaries and the Failed Conversion of the Middle East (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2007); and Kieser, Nearest East. 16. Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 19, 21, 31. 17. Avedis Boynerian, “The Importance of the Armenian Evangelical Churches for Christian Witness in the Middle East,” International Review of Mission 89, no. 352 (2009): 76–86; Joseph  L.  Grabill, Protestant Diplomacy and the Near East: Missionary Influence on American Policy, 1810–1927. (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1971), 12; “Guide to the Syria-Lebanon Mission Records, 1822–1983,” Presbyterian Historical Society: The National Archives for the PCUSA, accessed January 8, 2019, https://www.history.pcusa. org/collections/research-tools/guides-archival-collections/rg-492; and Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 35–39. 18. Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 24–35, 30, 33, 138; and James Barton to Judson Smith, March 11, 1891, American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions Archives, Houghton Library, Harvard University, 11.4, 1.1. 19. The Council of Ephesus (431) condemned Nestorius, patriarch of Constantinople, for rejecting Mary’s title theotokos (God-bearer) as Jesus’s human mother. 20. Rostam-Kolayi, “From Evangelizing to Modernizing Iranians,” 218. 21. Justin Perkins, Nestorian Biography: Being Sketches of Pious Nestorians Who Have Died at Oróomiah, Persia (Boston: Massachusetts Sabbath School Society, 1857), 11–12. 22. Becker, Revival and Awakening, chaps. 6–7. 23. Becker, 257–298. 24. Becker, 257–260, 299–304. 25. Julius Richter, A History of Protestant Missions in the Near East (London: Oliphant, Anderson, and Ferrier, 1910), 310–313; and Becker, Revival and Awakening, 278–279. 26. Becker, Revival and Awakening, 272, 281–283. 27. Becker, 1, 280–288, 296–298. 28. Becker, 149; and Justin Perkins, A Residence of Eight Years Among Nestorian Christians (Andover, MA: Allen, Morrill, and Wardell, 1843), 404–405. 29. Becker, Revival and Awakening, 264; Shireen Mahdavi, “Shahs, Doctors, Diplomats and Missionaries in 19th Century Iran,” British Journal of Middle Eastern Studies 32, no. 2 (2005): 169–191; Armajani, “Christianity viii”; John Elder, History of the Iran Mission ([n.p.]: Literature Committee of the Church Council of Iran, 1960); and Monica M. Ringer,

presbyterianism in the middle east   211 Education, Religion, and the Discourse of Cultural Reform in Qajar Iran, 2nd ed. (Costa Mesa, CA: Mazda, 2001). 30. Rostam-Kolayi, “From Evangelizing to Modernizing Iranians,” 215–216, 225–226, 228, 238–239. 31. Nima Naghibi, Rethinking Global Sisterhood: Western Feminism and Iran (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2007), 3–4, 29–31. 32. K.  Ekba, “Baskerville, Howard  C.” Encyclopaedia Iranica, accessed June 2, 2018, http:// www.iranicaonline.org/articles/baskerville-howard-c. 33. Becker, Revival and Awakening, 272. 34. Becker, 270, 277–278. 35. Annie Van Sommer and Samuel Marinus Zwemer, Daylight in the Harem: A New Era for Moslem Women (New York: Fleming H. Revell, 1911), 126, available at http://archive.org/ details/daylightinharemn00miss; and Naghibi, Rethinking Global Sisterhood, 33. 36. “1915: Urmia: Statement by The Rev. William  A.  Shedd, D.D., of The American (Presbyterian) Mission Station at Urmia; Communicated by The Board of Foreign Missions of The Presbyterian Church in The  U.S.A.,” in Arnold Toynbee, The Treatment of the Armenians in the Ottoman Empire: Documents Presented to Viscount Grey of Fallodon, Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1916), 100–105, available at https://books.google.com/books?id=7qafAAAAMAAJ&printsec=frontcover &source=gbs_ge_summary_r&cad=0#v=onepage&q&f=false. 37. ABCFM corresponding secretary James Barton and Wilson’s personal adviser Cleveland Dodge influenced the president’s decision not to declare war against the Ottoman Empire. See Kaley M. Carpenter, “A Worldly Errand: James L. Barton’s American Mission to the Near East” (PhD diss., Princeton Theological Seminary, 2009); and Joseph  L.  Grabill, Protestant Diplomacy and the Near East: Missionary Influence on American Policy, 1810–1927 (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1971). 38. Blaming the Presbyterian mission for its own demise has been challenged. See Zirinsky, “American Presbyterian Missionaries,” 17–20; and Arian Ishaya, “A Commentary on Professor Zirinsky’s Article: American Presbyterian Missionaries at Urmia,” in Proceedings of the International Roundtable on Persia and the Great War (Tehran: Iran Chamber Society, 1997), available at http://www.iranchamber.com/religions/articles/commentary_ american_presbyterian_missionaries.pdf. 39. Michael  P.  Zirinsky, “Render Therefore unto Caesar the Things Which Are Caesar’s: American Presbyterian Educators and Reza Shah,” Iranian Studies 26 (1993): 341–342; and Elder, History of the Iran Mission, 74, 77. 40. Armajani, “Christianity viii”; and Robin  E.  Waterfield, Christians in Persia: Assyrians, Armenians, Roman Catholics and Protestants (London: Allen and Unwin, 1973), 169–174. 41. Elder, History of the Iran Mission, 89–97; Armajani, “Christianity viii.” 42. “Yahya Armajani,” Wikipedia, September 25, 2018, accessed January 7, 2019, https:// en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=Yahya_Armajani&oldid=838097261. 43. Miller, “Sasun, 1894”; Louise Nalbandian, The Armenian Revolutionary Movement: The Development of Armenian Political Parties through the Nineteenth Century (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1963). 44. “A New Persian Shah,” Presbyterian Banner, July 22, 1909, sec. 1; David Gaunt, “Failed Identity and the Assyrian Genocide,” in Shatterzone of Empires: Ethnicity, Identity, and Violence in the German, Habsburg, Russian, and Ottoman Borderlands, ed. Omer Bartov and Eric D. Weitz (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2013), 324; Grabill, Protestant

212   kaley m. carpenter Diplomacy, 41–53, 135–138; and “About Us,” National Middle Eastern Presbyterian Caucus USA, accessed June 20, 2018, http://nmepcusa.org/about-us/. 45. Gaunt, “Failed Identity”; Travis, “Assyrian Genocide.” 46. Carpenter, “Worldly Errand”; Grabill, Protestant Diplomacy. 47. Vahan H. Tootikian, “Armenian Congregationalists Flee from Genocide and Find a Home in the U.S.,” United Church of Christ, accessed June 8, 2018, http://www.ucc.org/about-us_ hidden-histories_armenian-congregationalists; and Michael  A.  Lutzker and Catherine Thompson, “Robert College Records, 1859–1986, MS # 1445,” Columbia University Rare Book and Manuscript Library Legacy Finding Aid 2007, 1–5, accessed January 8, 2019, http://www.columbia.edu/cu/libraries/inside/projects/findingaids/scans/pdfs/Robert_ College.pdf. 48. C. A. Bayly, “Representing Copts and Muhammadans: Empire, Nation, and Community in Egypt and India, 1880–1914,” in Modernity and Culture from the Mediterranean to the Indian Ocean, 1890–1920, ed. Robert Ilbert (New York: Columbia University Press, 2002), 159, 171, 179; Anna Dowell, “Landscapes of Belonging: Protestant Activism in Revolutionary Egypt,” International Journal of Sociology 45, no. 3 (2015): 193–196; Donald Malcolm Reid, Contesting Antiquity in Egypt: Archaeologies, Museums, and the Struggle for Identities from World War I to Nasser (Cairo: American University in Cairo Press, 2015), 198, 201, 214–218; Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 96–148; and Jacques van der Vliet, “The Copts: ‘Modern Sons of the Pharaohs’?,” in Religious Origins of Nations? The Christian Communities of the Middle East, ed. Bas ter Haar Romeny (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2009), 282–283. 49. Sharkey, American Evangelicals, 185–189. 50. Benjamin Weir, “Repentance First, Peace Later,” New York Times, April 9, 1989, accessed January 8, 2019, https://www.nytimes.com/1989/04/09/books/repentance-first-peace-later. html. 51. Duane Alexander Miller, “Power, Personalities and Politics: The Growth of Iranian Christianity since 1979,” Mission Studies 32 (2015): 74. 52. “Our Story,” Frontier Fellowship website, accessed June 8, 2018, https://frontierfellowship. com/our-story; “What We Do,” The Outreach Foundation, accessed January 8, 2019, https:// www.theoutreachfoundation.org/what-we-do/; “Projects in the Middle East,” Outreach Foundation, accessed January 7, 2019, https://www.theoutreachfoundation.org/middleeast-projects/; and Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), “The Outreach Foundation Celebrates Two Milestones,” Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), May 2, 2014, https://www.pcusa.org/ news/2014/5/2/outreach-foundation-celebrates-two-milestones/, accessed January 8, 2019. 53. Julyan Lidstone, “Church Planting in Ankara,” 1990, and “Breakthroughs of the Last Thirty Years,” April 30, 1994, Operation Mobilization Internal Memoranda shared with author, June 2, 2018. 54. Miller, “Power, Personalities and Politics,” 75–76. 55. “History,” Middle East Media.org, accessed January 8. 2019, https://www.memusa.org/ history/; “Our History,” SAT7.org, accessed January 8, 2019, http://sat7.org/our-history; “SAT-7 Turk,” accessed January 8, 2019, http://sat7.org/our-channels/channel-overview/ sat-7-turk; and Anuj Chopra, “In Iran, Covert Christian Converts Live with Secrecy and Fear,” U.S. News and World Report, May 8, 2008, accessed January 8, 2019, https://www. usnews.com/news/world/articles/2008/05/08/in-iran-covert-christian-converts-live-withsecrecy-and-fear. 56. John Smith, missionary consultant in Turkey, phone interview by the author, March 6, 2018.

presbyterianism in the middle east   213

Bibliography Becker, Adam H. Revival and Awakening: American Evangelical Missionaries in Iran and the Origins of Assyrian Nationalism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2015. Gaunt, David. “Failed Identity and the Assyrian Genocide.” In Shatterzone of Empires: Ethnicity, Identity, and Violence in the German, Habsburg, Russia, and Ottoman Borderlands. Edited by Omer Bartov and Eric D. Weitz, 317–333. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2013. Grabill, Joseph L. Protestant Diplomacy and the Near East: Missionary Influence on American Policy, 1810–1927. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1971. Rostam-Kolayi, Jasamin. “From Evangelizing to Modernizing Iranians: The American Presbyterian Mission and Its Iranian Students.” Iranian Studies 41 (2008): 213–239. Sharkey, Heather J. American Evangelicals in Egypt: Missionary Encounters in an Age of Empire. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2008. Zirinsky, Michael P. “Render Therefore unto Caesar the Things Which Are Caesar’s: American Presbyterian Educators and Reza Shah.” Iranian Studies 26 (1993): 337–356.

pa rt I I

E C C L E SI A L FOR M S A N D S T RUC T U R E S

chapter 12

Pr esby ter i a n Polit y Jeffrey S. M c Donald

Introduction This chapter will analyze the historical continuity between American Presbyterians and the Reformed tradition regarding polity (church government). It will explore several key events and several important figures. We will look at the unified colonial American Presbyterian response to religious toleration and the effects of the consequential Adopting Act of 1729. The nearly constant debates surrounding subscription to the Westminster Confession of Faith will also be examined. To grasp significant polity differences, it will be necessary to look at Presbyterian reactions to the First and Second Great Awakenings. The differing responses of Christians to evangelical revivalism created important and lasting divisions within American Presbyterianism. The Presbyterian alliance with Congregationalists and the conflicts that resulted will also be discussed, as will the momentous polity debates of the twentieth century, which contributed to the fracturing of American Presbyterianism. Part of the challenge in analyzing the faithfulness of American Presbyterians to the polity of the Reformed tradition is that Presbyterianism has had many different parties, and they have often been deeply divided. Theology has been intricately linked to polity, and American Presbyterians, over the centuries, have struggled mightily with the tension between doctrine and governing structure.

Early Beginnings and the Adopting Act of 1729 Standing at the center of early American Presbyterianism was Francis Makemie, a native of Ireland. He defended Presbyterian polity against its critics and sought to ensure that Presbyterian congregations in the American colonies followed it properly.1 In 1706, Makemie helped organize the first presbytery in the New World and served as

218   Jeffrey S. McDonald its first moderator. These early Presbyterians tried to follow Reformed patterns of church government. Nonetheless, colonial America was a different environment from the European Reformed world, and some key differences developed. Historically Presbyterianism was committed to church establishment, which can be seen in Scotland and in the English Westminster Assembly. Makemie, a “learner of Law, and Lover of Liberty,” departed from this aspect of Presbyterian polity in favor of religious toleration.2 His sentiments about religious freedom stemmed in part from an incident in New York, when he was labeled a “Disturber of Governments” and jailed for preaching without a license.3 Makemie’s trial and acquittal and his stand on religious liberty were seared into Presbyterian minds, leading many of them to defend religious freedom throughout the eighteenth century. His legal fracas was significant to later Presbyterians who, when subscribing to the Westminster Confession of Faith, took exception to church establishment.4 Moreover, concerns about Anglican efforts at church establishment and America’s religious pluralism helped fuel Presbyterian views on religious freedom.5 Some aspects of the European Enlightenment strongly tested Christian orthodoxy and the doctrinal boundaries of early eighteenth-century Presbyterianism. Concerned about theological “errors” and infidelity, Presbyterians from Scottish and Irish backgrounds proposed that American Presbyterians “publically and authoritatively adopt” the Westminster Confession.6 Other Presbyterians, those who had roots in New England, were also troubled by departures from orthodoxy but did not favor strict subscription. This intramural Presbyterian debate resulted in a consequential polity decision known as the Adopting Act of 1729. The act made the Westminster Confession the doctrinal standard for Presbyterianism, but it allowed ministers to scruple parts of the confession they disagreed with. Before 1729, Presbyterian ministers in colonial America had viewed the Westminster Confession as authoritative, even though it had not yet been formally adopted.7 In 1727, Delaware minister John Thompson wrote, “We all generally acknowledge . . . the Westminster Confession,” but “we have no confession which is ours by synodical act.”8 After the Adopting Act was passed, presbyteries and the synod had the responsibility to judge whether a minister’s scruple was contrary to the “essential and necessary articles in [Presbyterian] doctrine, worship or government.”9 One thorny aspect of the act was that these “articles” were nowhere clearly defined. The Adopting Act was the product of a compromise.10 It made the Westminster Confession the church’s doctrinal standard, but it also allowed for some leeway on nonessential articles. This result was largely the achievement of Jonathan Dickinson, a Presbyterian minister and theologian.11 Dickinson objected to strict subscription because it gave “fallible Men” the honor due only to God’s Word. He also believed that requiring inflexible conformity to the confession would result in heresy and division. Dickinson wrote, “Subscription is not Necessary for the Being, or Well-being of the church; unless Hatred, Variance . . . and Heresies, are necessary to that end.”12 For Dickinson, strict subscription to a creed produced disunity and contentiousness within a denomination; some latitude, therefore, was needed. The Adopting Act is significant because the American Presbyterian Church made the Westminster Confession its doctrinal standard, thus solidifying its commitment to

Presbyterian Polity   219 Reformed polity. John Calvin, in his polity, prioritized a pastor’s theological competence and integrity.13 Through the Adopting Act and affirmation of the Westminster Confession American Presbyterians embraced the wider Reformed tradition’s theology and understanding of church government.

Old Side, New Side, and the 1801 Plan of Union American Presbyterians required assent to an Old World creed, but they were geographically distant from the European theological debate. Colonial America was a frontier, and the religious revivals that swept through the land challenged traditional dogma and polity. The spiritual revivals, which occurred in the 1730s and 1740s, known as the Great Awakening, sharply divided American Presbyterians.14 In 1741, the Presbyterian Church divided into two camps, Old Side and New Side. One Anglican missionary reported to his superiors in London that American “Presbyterians are almost broken to pieces.”15 The serious split within Presbyterianism resulted from Old Side objections to the New Side arguments that evidence of a conversion experience should take priority over mere creedal commitment. The more churchly party, the Old Side, also opposed New Side itinerant preaching. New Side Presbyterians held that intellectual assent to a creed without the New Birth was injurious to the church, and they railed against the “spiritual declension of the church.”16 New Side leader Gilbert Tennent attacked opponents of the Great Awakening and inflamed the denomination with his sermon “The Danger of an Unconverted Ministry” (1740). The New Side held that godly piety should take priority over creedal subscription, presbytery boundaries, ministerial prerogatives, and formal education.17 Nearly 40 percent of Presbyterian congregations divided over issues related to the Great Awakening.18 Traditional forms of Reformed ministry and polity were challenged as the two sides polarized. Yet some worked diligently to find common ground between the parties, and the sides reunited in 1758.19 Gilbert Tennent calmed the fears of Old Side Presbyterians by retracting some of his earlier statements and urging all to heed the gospel’s call for “charity and forbearance.”20 Despite the upheavals of the Great Awakening, the spiritual momentum of its events and the piety that resulted fueled the rapid growth of the Presbyterian Church. Presbyterian congregations increased in number from 126 in 1740 to 600 in 1776.21 In the aftermath of the Awakening, the Presbyterian Church sought to fuse Presbyterian polity and practice with evangelical revivalism and its activist-oriented pietism. Revivalistic Calvinism dominated colonial Presbyterianism into the 1760s, when the church began to face new challenges. In the last three decades of the eighteenth century, the Presbyterian Church experienced the Revolutionary War and encountered new intellectual challenges. The theological responses that resulted led to a relationship with Congregational Calvinists, who did not

220   Jeffrey S. McDonald adhere to Presbyterian polity. In 1766 the two groups corresponded and arranged an annual convention to study their “united cause and interest.”22 They also met to preserve “their religious liberties.” Both groups strongly opposed efforts to install an Anglican bishop in America.23 Their convention did not meet during the Revolution, but it continued meeting after the war. In 1790, a year after the Presbyterian Church had created a General Assembly, that body proclaimed its desire to “renew and strengthen every bond of union” between Presbyterians and Congregationalists.24 Both denominations established standing committees to approve pastors to serve in each other’s congregations. The Presbyterian General Assembly soon exchanged delegates with the Congregational General Association of Connecticut, and in 1794 it allowed accredited delegates to vote at each other’s gatherings.25 These arrangements were fueled by Christian cooperation and a strong missionary thrust to reach people on the frontier. The alliance grew stronger, and efforts were made to create a more formal agreement. In 1801 the two denominations formalized a Plan of Union that allowed ministers to serve in either one. Moreover, individual churches could decide if they wanted to be governed by Presbyterian or Congregational polity. Working together, the two bodies created scores of regional voluntary benevolent societies.26 The Plan of Union sought to “promote harmony” between the ministers and congregations of the two groups.27 The unified evangelistic effort of the two denominations was successful, and the Presbyterian Church grew rapidly from 18,000 members in 1807 to 248,000 members in 1834.28 The “allied population” of Presbyterians was close to two million in the mid1830s.29 The 1801 Plan of Union contributed to a rapidly expanding Presbyterian Church, but it also led to much tension and unrest. Many traditionally minded Presbyterians complained that Congregationalists threatened both church order and doctrine.

The Old and New Schools and the Renewal of Presbyterian Polity The divisions that resulted from the Plan of Union eventually led to the formation of the Old and New School parties within the Presbyterian Church in 1837. The New School was flexible on polity issues, evangelistic, and cooperative with the Congregationalists. The Old School, however, harbored deep reservations about the marriage of the two denominations and the effects on Presbyterian identity, doctrine, and government. The Old School objected to the revival techniques of the Second Great Awakening, the creation of new presbyteries that did not require creedal subscription, and the allowing of interdenominational agencies to found Presbyterian congregations.30 Old Schoolers were alarmed by the New Haven (Yale College) theology’s progressive view of sin, the perceived heterodoxy of Albert Barnes, and the innovative theology and methods of  Charles  G.  Finney.31 Old School leader Robert Breckinridge protested that the New School’s theological errors undermined, not only the doctrine of the Westminster Confession, but also the ordered “liberty” it provided the church.32 New School

Presbyterian Polity   221 Presbyterians claimed that the Presbyterian Church’s true problem was that Old School churchmen demanded rigid adherence to the Westminster Confession. New School advocates embraced New Haven theology and claimed it softened and helped eliminate some of Calvinism’s “harsh and rigid features.”33 The ensuing heresy trials resulted in the Old School party expelling four New School synods at the 1837 General Assembly, which produced two separate Presbyterian denominations. Differences in doctrine appeared to be the main reasons the two parties split. Yet some scholars insist that abolitionism was also a significant factor in the schism.34 As the newly independent churches moved forward, some Presbyterians took the issue of polity more seriously, and detailed studies were produced. In 1839, Princeton Seminary theologian Charles Hodge wrote The Constitutional History of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. Hodge partly attributed the controversies of the 1830s and the schism to New School theories that American Presbyterianism was “very different from the Scottish system” and the view that “Congregationalism was the basis of Presbyterianism” in America.35 While not all New School Presbyterians held these views, their false assumptions were a key source of the ecclesiastical conflict. Hodge insisted that the Presbyterian church had throughout its history been “strictly Calvinistic in doctrine, and purely Presbyterian in government.”36 Moreover, he argued that since its beginning, the American Presbyterian Church had approved church “government [forms] which had been previously adopted in Scotland, Ireland, Holland, and among the protestants of France.”37 New School Presbyterians viewed such arguments as misguided. One New School critic argued that all the Old Schoolers cared about was “ecclesiastical order” and that their “exclusive and sectarian” position clashed with the freedom promoted by mainstream American Presbyterianism.38 Many New School Presbyterians saw themselves as the true heirs of American Presbyterianism. They vigorously rejected Old School assertions that they did not truly adhere to Presbyterian order and polity and to the Westminster Confession. The New School, however, was indeed strongly influenced by the interdenominational alliances of the Evangelical united front, which sought to mobilize people across denominations for spiritual revival and evangelism.39 The New School’s involvement in this evangelical surge produced populist attitudes and rhetoric that challenged older Presbyterian conceptions of ministry and polity. Charles Finney argued that Presbyterian formalism and theological hair-splitting was “so ridiculous, so wicked, so outrageous, that no doubt there is a jubilee in hell every year, about the time of the meeting of the General Assembly.”40 Undoubtedly many New Schoolers viewed traditional Presbyterian polity and doctrine suspiciously; they violated their largely populist instincts. Nevertheless, many New School pastors and laypeople professed to be devoted to historic Presbyterian faith and practice. In 1852, two New School editors argued that no matter what, the New School “would remain Calvinistic from deeply rooted principle.”41 They added, “Our churches never were more thoroughly attached to the [Presbyterian] Form of Government and the tradition of their fathers.”42 In the midst of the Old and New School conflict, Southern Presbyterian theologian James Henley Thornwell joined the polity debates. Thornwell argued for jure divino Presbyterianism, which held that Presbyterian polity was not just permissible, but

222   Jeffrey S. McDonald required by scripture.43 A denomination’s activities, he contended, should only include those mentioned in God’s Word. Known as the “spirituality of the church,” this position sought to distance Presbyterianism from involvement in political and moral societies and rejected permanent church boards that acted independently from the church courts.44 Thornwell attempted to relate his polity position to the wider Reformed tradition, asserting “in maintaining that the Bible is our only rule,” he stood with Calvin and “the venerable Assembly of Divines at Westminster.”45 He argued that the church has “no right to interfere” with slavery in the South.46 His views of church government were influential in the southern Presbyterian Church becoming the official position of Old School southern Presbyterians when they split from the Old School northern Presbyterians in 1861 to form the Presbyterian Church in the Confederate States of America (after 1865, the denomination was known as the Presbyterian Church in the United States—PCUS).47

Presbyterian Polity Outside the United States In Korea, Mexico, and in other parts of Latin America and Africa Presbyterianism flourished, and Presbyterian polity has in some measure been maintained. However, in other regions Presbyterianism and its polity have suffered major setbacks. Two locations where Presbyterianism had been relatively strong were Canada and Australia. Yet in each country, a majority of the mainstream Presbyterian bodies were swallowed up by new twentieth-century pan-Protestant ecumenical denominations. In 1925, 75 percent of Presbyterians in Canada joined with Methodists and Congregationalists to form the United Church of Canada.48 The post-1925 continuing Presbyterian Church in Canada adhered to Presbyterian polity, but its size was substantially diminished after the formation of the United Church. Presbyterians in Australia experienced a similar church union in 1977, when approximately two-thirds of the Presbyterian Church of Australia joined the Uniting Church of Australia. The seeds for the church union were partially sown by the ecumenical movement and by a 1930s and 1940s theological controversy— the Angus Affair—that involved a loosening of doctrinal standards.49 Samuel Angus, a longtime seminary professor, denied the Trinity, the deity of Christ, and Reformed theology. His views were contested in church courts for over a decade, but ultimately no action was taken against him.50 The continuing Presbyterian Church in Australia remained committed to Presbyterian polity and affirmed a more conservative Reformed theological stance. Although Presbyterians in other parts of the world declined, especially after 1970, the National Presbyterian Church of Mexico dramatically increased its membership in the twentieth century, and in 2011 cut off all ties with the PC(USA) because of its acceptance of homosexual clergy.51 The Mexican Presbyterian action ended the historic 139-year

Presbyterian Polity   223 relationship and revealed that internal American Presbyterian polity decisions had external consequences. However, in 2016 the National Presbyterian Church of Mexico has established a relationship with another American denomination—the Evangelical Presbyterian Church.52 Presbyterians in Korea also increased rapidly during the twentieth century, but they amazingly splintered into over a hundred different Presbyterian denominations.53 In Korea, Presbyterian polity was unable to stop schism and prevent the mushrooming of new Presbyterian bodies. Many Korean Presbyterians moved toward more congregational polity because of theological tensions, land values, and powerful pastor personalities.54

The Dominance of Polity in the Twentieth-Century American Presbyterianism In the twentieth century, polity became more important in the PCUSA and promoted greater theological tolerance and diversity, favoring more moderate and liberal Presbyterian parties over conservative ones. In 1926, polity considerations had made adherence to five previously required fundamental doctrines nonbinding.55 In 1932, when a small group of conservative Presbyterians, led by J. Gresham Machen, created an Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions to oppose the alleged doctrinal infidelity of members of the PCUSA’s mission board, their actions were held to be illegal on polity grounds. Emerging out of the mission’s controversy was the founding of a new denomination in 1936, which was soon called the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. By 1955, Lefferts Loetscher, a Princeton Seminary church historian, argued that theology had become “less central to the conception of the church than it had been.”56 To be sure, conservatives in the United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA) and the PCUS expressed grave concerns about the UPCUSA’s doctrinal laxity in the midst of merger proposals in the 1950s.57 Moreover, two high-profile controversies, the Angela Davis affair (1971) and the Wynn Kenyon case (1974), were largely decided by polity considerations rather than on their theological merits.58 Davis, a vocal communist, received $10,000 from the UPCUSA to support her legal defense after being charged with kidnapping, conspiracy, and murder.59 UPCUSA bureaucrats gave the money to Davis, an African American woman, to ensure that she would have adequate legal representation. Many Presbyterians, however, complained that the church was being politicized and objected to giving money to defend someone who espoused such radical societal views and atheism.60 A denominational political firestorm ensued, and one commentator noted that the Angela Davis controversy mostly “was not carried on theologically. It was an ecclesiastical-organizational matter and discussed in those terms.”61 Polity was becoming more prominent in the PCUSA, and theology seemed to be less of an influence.

224   Jeffrey S. McDonald Wynn Kenyon, by contrast, affirmed traditional Presbyterian doctrine, but he was denied ordination in the UPCUSA because he refused to affirm women’s ordination. Kenyon respected the right of women to be ordained in the UPCUSA and had no problem working with women ministers and elders; he was denied ordination simply because he could not participate in ordaining women. Contrary to historical precedent, the UPCUSA’s Permanent Judicial Commission bluntly stated, “It is the responsibility of our church to deny ordination to one who has refused to ordain women.”62 William Thompson, the stated clerk of the PCUSA, declared that the commission’s decision was “based upon the premise that the issue before it was one of church government rather than of doctrine.”63 Polity was increasingly becoming dominant in the UPCUSA and even in the PCUS, clear signs of discontent emerged. In 1973, in the midst of racial tensions, the Presbyterian Church in America was created, primarily because of theological concerns about the PCUS, but also because its founders believed that the polity of the PCUS had been corrupted.64 Perhaps the most significant UPCUSA church court case to show the ascendency of polity in mainline Presbyterianism in the twentieth century was the ordination of Mansfield Kaseman in 1979. Evangelical Presbyterians objected to Kaseman’s refusal during his ordination exam to affirm the divinity and bodily resurrection of Jesus and tried to overturn his ordination in church courts, but they were unsuccessful.65 The UPCUSA’s Permanent Judicial Commission ruled that theological pluralism was “both desirable and present in our midst” and that Kaseman’s presbytery, not the Judicial Commission, “was best qualified” to judge his theology.66 This theologically ambiguous polity-based decision was the primary reason the Evangelical Presbyterian Church was founded in 1981.67

Conclusion Francis Makemie’s efforts to organize Presbyterian churches based on Presbyterian polity were largely faithful to the Reformed tradition. The Adopting Act of 1729, with its requiring of ministers to assent to the Westminster Confession, has continuity with the subscription policies of John Calvin, the Solemn League and Covenant, and the judicatories of the Church of Scotland. The New Side Presbyterian’s innovative views and practices were contrary to classical Presbyterian polity because they made the “New Birth” the sign of a true church rather than theological subscription and other aspects of the church’s life, order, and polity. American Presbyterians’ relationship with Congregationalists led many of them to abandon traditional Presbyterian polity. Because of the 1837 schism, however, Presbyterians became more concerned about their identity and form of government. Both the Old and New School denominations made serious efforts to reproduce Reformed polity. The reunion of those two denominations in 1869 brought some healing to the polity divisions of previous generations. After 1869, however, new conflicts began in the PCUSA over doctrinal fidelity. From the beginning of the Civil War until 1983, southern Presbyterians remained separated from Presbyterians

Presbyterian Polity   225 in other regions. The emphasis of polity over theology in the twentieth century increasingly divided Presbyterians, and several new Presbyterian denominations emerged in direct protest to this development. The dominance of polity over theology in twentieth-century American mainline Presbyterianism also seems, to some extent, contrary to the historical practice of Reformed polity. American Presbyterians have a mixed record when it comes to faithfully implementing the polity of the Reformed tradition.

Notes 1. James H. Smylie, “Francis Mackemie: Tradition and Challenge,” Journal of Presbyterian History 61 (1983): 202. 2. Makemie, quoted in Smylie, “Francis Makemie,” 204. 3. Governor Lord Cornbury, quoted in Smylie, “Francis Makemie,” 206. 4. H. Shelton Smith, Robert T. Handy, and Lefferts A. Loetscher, eds., American Christianity, 2 vols. (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1960), 1:257. 5. Bradley Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 32–36. 6. John Thomson, quoted in Leonard Trinterud, The Forming of an American Tradition (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1949), 46. 7. George P. Hays, Presbyterians (New York: J. A. Hill & Co., 1892), 69. 8. John Thomson, quoted in Trinterud, American Tradition, 45–46. 9. Adopting Act, in William  W.  McKinney, “Beginnings in the North,” in They Seek a Country, ed. Gaius Jackson Slosser (New York: Macmillan, 1955), 41. 10. Trinterud, American Tradition, 48–52. 11. Bryan F. Le Beau, Jonathan Dickinson and the Formative Years of American Presbyterianism (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997), 27–43; and Michael Bauman, “Jonathan Dickinson and the Subscription Controversy,” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 43 (1998): 455–467. 12. Jonathan Dickinson, “Remarks Upon a Discourse Intituled An Overture,” in Smith, Handy, and Loetscher, American Christianity, 1:265. 13. John  H.  Leith, Introduction to the Reformed Tradition (Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1977), 145. 14. Thomas S. Kidd, The Great Awakening (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2007); and John Fea, “In Search of Unity: Presbyterians in the Wake of the First Great Awakening,” Journal of Presbyterian History 86 (2008): 54. 15. Robert Jenny, quoted in Fea, “In Search of Unity,” 53. 16. Gilbert Tennent, quoted in Anthony  L.  Blair, “Shattered and Divided: Itinerancy, Ecclesiology, and Revivalism in the Presbyterian Awakening,” Journal of Presbyterian History 81 (2003): 31. 17. D. G. Hart, Seeking a Better Country (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007), 65. 18. Fea, “In Search of Unity,” 55. 19. Leigh Eric Schmidt, “Jonathan Dickinson and the Making of the Moderate Awakening,” American Presbyterians 63 (1985): 342–353. 20. Gilbert Tennent, quoted in Trinterud, American Tradition, 148. 21. Mark Noll, The Rise of Evangelicalism (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003), 185. 22. Quoted in Hart, Seeking a Better Country, 76.

226   Jeffrey S. McDonald 23. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 32–36. 24. Minutes of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., quoted in Robert Hastings Nichols, “The Plan of Union in New York,” Church History 5 (1936): 32. 25. George M. Marsden, The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970), 11. 26. Luder G. Whitlock Jr., “Presbyterian Polity and Practice,” Presbyterion 1 (1975): 118; and Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 15–16. 27. Plan of Union, quoted in Smith, Handy, and Loetscher, American Christianity, 546. 28. Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 11–12. 29. Marsden, 12. The reason for this higher approximation was that in many areas, especially in New York, a conversion experience was a prerequisite for membership. 30. Hart, Seeking a Better Country, 122. 31. James H. Moorhead, “The ‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism,’ ” Journal of Presbyterian History 78 (2000): 19–33; and Earl A. Pope, “Albert Barnes, the Way of Salvation, and Theological Controversy,” Journal of Presbyterian History 57 (1979): 20–34. 32. Breckinridge, quoted in Moorhead, “ ‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism,’ ” 30. 33. Albert Barnes, quoted in Hart, Seeking a Better Country, 119. 34. C.  Bruce Staiger, “Abolitionism and the Presbyterian Schism of 1837–1838,” Mississippi Valley Historical Review 36 (1949): 391–414. 35. Charles Hodge, Constitutional History of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. (Philadelphia: William S. Martien, 1839), iii, 10–11, quotations in that order. 36. Hodge, Constitutional History, 11. 37. Hodge, 12. 38. Nathan S. S. Beman, quoted in Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 73. 39. Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 20. 40. Charles Finney, quoted in Nathan Hatch, The Democratization of American Christianity (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1989), 197. 41. Quoted in S. Donald Fortson III, “New School Calvinism and the Presbyterian Creed,” Journal of Presbyterian History 82 (2004): 234. 42. Quoted in Fortson, “New School Calvinism,” 234. 43. James O. Farmer Jr., The Metaphysical Confederacy (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1986), 181–194. 44. Morton H. Smith, Studies in Southern Presbyterian Theology (Amsterdam: Drukkerij En Uitgeverij Jacob Van Campen, 1962), 174. 45. James Henley Thornwell, quoted in Farmer, Metaphysical Confederacy, 188–189. 46. Thornwell, quoted in Farmer, Metaphysical Confederacy, 187. 47. Smith, Studies in Southern Presbyterian Theology, 172, 48. W. Stanford Reid, “Calvinism’s Influence in Canada,” in John Calvin: His Influence in the Western World, ed. W. Stanford Reid (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1982), 316. 49. Susan Emilsen, A Whiff of Heresy: Samuel Angus and the Presbyterian Church in New South Wales (Kensington: New South Wales University Press, 1991). 50. Emilsen, A Whiff of Heresy, 267. 51. Leslie Scanlon, “Mexican Presbyterian Church Votes to End 139 Year Relationship with PCUSA,” Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), August 23, 2011, accessed May 12, 2018, https:// www.pcusa.org/news/2011/8/23/mexican-presbyterian-church-votes-end-139-year-old/. 52. “EPC Partnership with the National Presbyterian Church Ratified,” EPConnection, September 8, 2016, accessed May 12, 2018, https://epconnection.org/2016/09/08/epcpartnership-with-national-presbyterian-church-of-mexico-ratified/.

Presbyterian Polity   227 53. Patrick Johnstone, The Future of the Global Church (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2011), 235. 54. Donald N. Clark, “Protestant Christianity and the State,” in Korean Society, ed. Charles Armstrong (London: Routledge, 2007), 185. 55. Bradley  J.  Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 145–151. 56. Lefferts Loetscher, “Some Trends and Events Since 1869,” in They Seek a Country, ed. Gaius Jackson Slosser (New York: Macmillan, 1955), 262. 57. Jeffrey  S.  McDonald, John Gerstner and the Renewal of Presbyterian and Reformed Evangelicalism in Modern America (Eugene, OR: Pickwick), 69–73. 58. David  B.  McCarthy, “The Emerging Importance of Polity,” in Milton J Coalter, John M.  Mulder, and Lewis  B.  Weeks, eds., The Organizational Revolution (Louisville KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992), 282–289. 59. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 194–195. 60. McCarthy, “Emerging Importance of Polity,” 282. 61. John R. Fry, quoted in McCarthy, “Emerging Importance of Polity,” 283. 62. Permanent Judicial Commission decision, quoted in McDonald, John Gerstner, 117. 63. William P. Thompson, quoted in McCarthy, “Emerging Importance of Polity,” 287. 64. Sean Michael Lucas, For a Continuing Church (Philipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2015), 281–314. On the distrust of the PCUS church courts issue, see 304. 6 5. McDonald, John Gerstner, 146–153. 66. Permanent Judicial Commission decision, quoted in McCarthy, “Emerging Importance of Polity,” 297, 299. 67. McDonald, John Gerstner, 146–155.

Bibliography Bauman Michael. “Jonathan Dickinson and the Subscription Controversy.” Journal of the Evangelical Theological Society 43 (1998): 455–467. Blair, Anthony  L. “Shattered and Divided: Itinerancy, Ecclesiology, and Revivalism in the Presbyterian Awakening.” Journal of Presbyterian History 81 (2003): 18–34. Calhoun, David B. Princeton Seminary: Faith and Learning, 1812–1868. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1994. Davies, A. Mervyn. Presbyterian Heritage. Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1965. Davis, Thomas J., ed. John Calvin’s American Legacy. New York: Oxford University Press, 2010. Fortson, S.  Donald, III. “New School Calvinism and the Presbyterian Creed.” Journal of Presbyterian History 82 (2004): 221–243. Fortson, S.  Donald, III. “Old School/New School Reunion in the South: The Theological Compromise of 1864.” Westminster Theological Journal 66 (2004): 203–226. Farmer, James  O., Jr. The Metaphysical Confederacy. Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 1986. Fea, John, “In Search of Unity: Presbyterians in the Wake of the First Great Awakening.” Journal of Presbyterian History 86 (2008): 53–60. Holifield, E. Brooks. Theology in America: Christian Thought from the Age of the Puritans to the Civil War. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003. Jamieson, Wallace. The United Presbyterian Story. Pittsburgh, PA: Geneva Press, 1958. Kidd, Thomas S. The Great Awakening. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2007.

228   Jeffrey S. McDonald Knight, George, III. “Subscription to the Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms.” Presbyterion 10 (1984): 20–55. Le Beau, Bryan F. Jonathan Dickinson and the Formative Years of American Presbyterianism. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1997. Longfield, Bradley J. Presbyterians and American Culture. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Longfield, Bradley  J. The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Marsden, George M. The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970. McDonald, Jeffrey  S. John Gerstner and the Renewal of Presbyterian and Reformed Evangelicalism in Modern America. Eugene, OR: Pickwick, 2017. Moorhead, James  H. “Charles Finney and the Modernization of America.” Journal of Presbyterian History 62 (1984): 95–110. Moorhead, James H. “The ‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism.’ ” Journal of Presbyterian History, 78 (2000): 19–33. Nichols, Robert Hastings. “The Plan of Union in New York.” Church History 5 (1936): 29–51. Pope, Earl A. “Albert Barnes, the Way of Salvation, and Theological Controversy.” Journal of Presbyterian History 57 (1979): 20–34. Schmidt, Leigh Eric. “Jonathan Dickinson and the Making of the Moderate Awakening.” American Presbyterians 63 (1985): 341–353. Sloat, Leslie. “Jonathan Dickinson and the Problem of Synodical Authority.” Westminster Theological Journal 8 (1946): 149–165. Smith, Elwyn A. The Presbyterian Ministry in Culture. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1962. Smylie, James H. “Francis Makemie: Tradition and Challenge.” Journal of Presbyterian History 61 (1983): 197–209. Staiger, C. Bruce. “Abolitionism and the Presbyterian Schism of 1837–1838.” Mississippi Valley Historical Review 36 (1949): 391–414. Stewart, John  W., and James Moorhead, eds. Charles Hodge Revisited. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2002. Westerkamp, Marilyn. “Division, Dissension, and Compromise: The Presbyterian Church during the Great Awakening.” Journal of Presbyterian History 78 (2000): 3–18. Whitlock, Luder G., Jr. “Presbyterian Polity and Practice.” Presbyterion 1 (1975): 117–130.

chapter 13

Pr esby ter i a n Con fe ssions Donald K. M c Kim

Introduction Presbyterian churches are part of the Reformed theological tradition. This heritage takes the words of the Psalmist seriously: “Let the redeemed of the Lord say so” (Psalm 107:2) Presbyterian and Reformed Christians have continually sought to confess their faith, expressing who God is, what God has done, and how the people of God understand themselves in relation to the God who is their creator and redeemer in Jesus Christ. As John Calvin put it, “Faith is the mother of confession.”1 Confessions of faith are guides to interpreting God’s revelation in the holy Scriptures. Presbyterian Christians wrote confessions of faith in the period shortly after the sixteenth-century Protestant Reformations as well as in contemporary times. The earlier confessions such as the French Confession (1559), which was written for Reformed Protestants who were establishing a Presbyterian form of polity, and the Scots Confession (1560), which became the confession of the Church of Scotland with its Presbyterian polity, have had a long life and deep influence in Presbyterianism through the centuries. The need to confess faith has been a constant for Presbyterians. The impulse has been steady: “I believe, therefore I confess” (Credo, ergo Confiteor).

Classic Continental Reformed Confessions A number of confessions of faith from the Reformation period have been foundational for Presbyterians. These confessions emerged out of regional and national churches which shared a growing Reformed faith evolving forms of church government based on

230   donald k. mckim graded courts that included church sessions, presbyteries, and synods. These important confessions of faith include Zwingli’s Sixty-seven Articles (1523); The Ten Theses of Berne (1528); The Tetrapolitan Confession (1530); The First Confession of Basel (1534); The First Helvetic Confession (1536); The Geneva Confession (1536); The French Confession (1559); The Scots Confession (1560); The Belgic Confession (1561); The Second Helvetic Confession (1566) and others.2

The Westminster Confession of Faith (1647) The most influential confession of faith which Presbyterians had a hand in writing and which has served as a doctrinal standard for Presbyterian churches throughout the world for centuries is the Westminster Confession of Faith.

The Westminster Assembly The Confession was part of the documents produced by the Westminster Assembly (1643–1648). Working during the English Civil War, this assembly of 121 “divines” (pastors and theologians), strove to reform the Church of England to make it “more agreeable to the Word of God.” Their efforts to revise the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion of the Church of England led to the writing of the Westminster Confession, the Larger and Short Catechisms, and the Directory for Public Worship and Form of Church Government as guiding documents. Because of England’s political circumstances, the Westminster Confession did not serve as a theological foundation for the English church. Independents became prominent during the Civil War and later did not use the Confession. After the monarchy was restored in 1660 and episcopacy re-established, the Westminster documents had no role to play in English church life. The Church of Scotland, which was Presbyterian, however, used the Westminster Confession to replace the Scots Confession (1560), written in part by John Knox. The Westminster Confession became the church’s singular confession of faith. Churches related to the Church of Scotland also adopted the Westminster Standards.

Presbyterian Churches in the United States In the United States, Presbyterians at their synod meeting in 1729 adopted the Westminster Confession as “the confession of our faith” to be subscribed to by church office holders.3 The main Presbyterian denomination (the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A.)

presbyterian confessions   231 held its first General Assembly in Philadelphia in 1789 and maintained adherence to the  Westminster Confession during various splits throughout the eighteenth and ­nineteenth centuries. The Cumberland Presbyterian Church split from the PCUSA in 1810. The denomination arose from revivals in Tennessee and Kentucky. Its founders established a synod, and in 1813 indicated their dissent from the Westminster Confession. They objected that there are no eternal reprobates; that Christ died not for a part only, but for all mankind; that all infants dying in infancy are saved through Christ and the sanctification of the Spirit; that the Spirit of God operates in the world, or as coextensively as Christ has made atonement, in such a manner as to leave all persons inexcusable who reject Christ. In 1883, this denomination adopted the Confession of Faith and Government of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church. Nineteenth-century church historian Philip Schaff described this confession as “an eclectic compromise between Calvinism and Arminianism” that made “no attempt to harmonize these antagonistic elements.”4 The Cumberland Presbyterian Church and the Second Cumberland Presbyterian Church adopted a new Confession of  Faith in 1984 based on an exposition of John 3:16. Along with the Scriptures, the Confession of 1883 and the Westminster Confession were sources for this new confession of faith. The Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), which was formed during the Civil War and maintained its denominational status until it united with the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. in 1983 to form the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), adhered solely to the Westminster Confession until the merger. The United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA) merged with the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. in 1958 to form the United Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. The UPCNA held the Westminster Confession with the Larger and Shorter Catechisms as its doctrinal standard. In 1967, the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (today the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America), adopted a Book of Confessions composed of the Nicene Creed, the Apostles’ Creed, the Scots Confession (1560), the Heidelberg Catechism (1563), the Second Helvetic Confession (1566), the Westminster Standards (Confession of Faith, the Shorter Catechism, the Larger Catechism), the Theological Declaration of Barmen (1934), and the Confession of 1967. A Brief Statement of Faith—Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) was added in 1991 and the Declaration of Belhar (1983) written in South Africa was added in 2016.5 So today, the Westminster Standards has confessional standing in this denomination along with other creeds and confessions.

Theology of the Westminster Confession The thirty-three articles in the Westminster Confession have affinities with the English Articles of Religion, which the Assembly was charged to revise. But they are even more closely connected to the Irish Articles of Religion (1615).

232   donald k. mckim Article 1 “Of the Holy Scripture” clearly and concisely discusses the written Word of God, which reveals the Living Word of God—Jesus Christ—by the work of the Holy Spirit. It also expounds upon the “light of nature,” which, with “the works of creation and providence,” is “not sufficient” to give the knowledge of God and his will, which is “necessary to give salvation” (1.1). This is because sin suppresses the direct knowledge of God implanted in the human heart (see Rom. 1:19, 20; 2:14, 15). Nevertheless, natural revelation makes humans inexcusable before God. God, however, has provided “the Word of God written” (1.2) to supplement what people know through nature and their conscience. Holy Scripture is given “by inspiration of God, to be the rule of faith and life” (1.2). Scripture is the source of our knowledge of God and provides the touchstone for all the Confession’s theological statements. The triune God (Art. 2) is “the only living and true God,” who did “by his own will, freely and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass” (3.1). This includes the predestination of some persons “unto everlasting life, and others fore-ordained to everlasting death” (3.3). This doctrine of election expresses God’s grace and justice. Since salvation is exclusively based on God’s decree (his will and purposes), no human actions can gain or merit it. The Westminster divines rejected supralapsarianism, which teaches that God’s decree of reprobation was issued before the fall of humanity into sin, so the unsaved are foreordained for sin and damnation. Instead, the Confession adopts the infralapsarian view by saying that God chooses “to pass by” the unsaved. In other words, God permits sinners to face the full consequences of judgment for the sin they have committed (3.7). The Confession describes this predestination as a “high mystery” (3.8). God’s Spirit works with the elect, who are “effectually called unto faith in Christ” and are “justified, adopted, sanctified, and kept by his power through faith unto salvation” (3.6). The “free and immutable counsel” of God’s will is expressed through his providence (Art. 5). The Confession has a comprehensive view of providence, echoing Calvin.6 God makes “use of means, yet is free to work without, above, and against them, at his pleasure” (5.3). This upholds God’s freedom but also gives a place to human action. While God orders and governs all things, humans are responsible for their own sin, which is “not from God; who being most holy and righteous, neither is nor can be the author or approver of sin” (5.4). This echoes an emphasis in the article on “God’s Eternal Decrees” where, after describing God’s ordaining of “whatsoever comes to pass,” cautions that this does not mean that God is “the author of sin; nor is violence offered to the will of the creatures, nor is the liberty or contingency of second causes taken away, but rather established” (3.1). The Westminster Confession’s article “Of God’s Covenant with Man” (Art. 7) is especially notable. Humans are dead in sin, having inherited the guilt of “our first parents,” who lost their “original righteousness and communion with God” (6.2; original sin). Humans experience a “corruption of nature” (6.5), are transgressors of God’s law, and are “subject to death, with all miseries spiritual, temporal, and eternal” (6.6). The Confession teaches that God’s covenant with humanity has taken two different forms. God voluntarily condescends to humans through covenants, the first being a

presbyterian confessions   233 covenant of works whereby Adam and his posterity could obtain life by “perfect and personal obedience” (7.2). Humanity’s fall into sin made the fulfillment of this covenant impossible. God, therefore, established a covenant of grace wherein he “freely offered unto sinners life and salvation by Jesus Christ, requiring of them faith in him” (7.3). This is not an abstract “eternal decree” but rather is God’s provision of a way to salvation, reconciliation, and forgiveness of sins—or eternal life. This is God’s gracious action, since God gives to the elect the Holy Spirit “to make them willing and able to believe” (7.3). The Confession asserts that the “new testament” or “new covenant” in Jesus Christ is the way God’s covenant is now received. It says that “there are not, therefore, two covenants of grace differing in substance, but one and the same under various dispensations” (7.6). God’s covenant in Christ is not limited to one nation, but as Princeton theologian A. A. Hodge said, “embraces the whole earth”7 John Leith pointed out that the Confession “remarkably unites election and covenant without making either one the single dominating, unifying principle of the theology.”8 “Of Christ the Mediator” focuses on Christ’s work of redemption. The “second person in the Trinity” (8.2), Jesus Christ, “by his perfect obedience and sacrifice of himself, which he through the eternal Spirit once offered up unto God, hath fully satisfied the justice of his Father; and purchased not only reconciliation, but an everlasting inheritance in the kingdom of heaven, for all those whom the Father hath given unto him” (8.6). Jesus Christ is the “only Mediator” between God and humanity (8.2). Christ’s redemptive power is emphasized in “On Free Will” (Art. 9). Humans have the power of self-decision, called “natural liberty.” Decisions are neither “forced” upon human beings, nor are they “by any absolute necessity of nature determined to good or evil” (9.1). Humanity before the Fall had the “power to will and to do that which is good and well-pleasing to God; but yet mutually, so that he might fall from it” (9.2). Now, sinful people have “lost all ability” to do “any spiritual good” to achieve salvation since we are “dead in sin” and cannot by our own strength do what God desires (9.3). Only God can free humanity from its “natural bondage under sin” and by his grace alone enable humans “freely to will and to do that which is spiritually good” (9.4). Ultimately a human’s will is “made perfectly and immutably free to [do] good alone” only in heaven, “the state of glory” (9.5). Both Martin Luther and Calvin emphasized these themes.9 The Confession’s articles on soteriology (10–18) are, Philip Schaff argued, “the best confessional statement of the evangelical doctrines of justification, adoption, sanctification, saving faith, good works, and assurance of salvation.”10 They emphasize God’s initiative in salvation. His effectual call is for those “God hath predestinated” (10.1). Related theological topics that emerge from effectual calling include justification, since “those whom God effectually calleth, he also freely justifieth” (11.1). The justified receive the imputed righteousness of Christ, pardon for sin, and are accepted as righteous, not for anything in themselves, “but for Christ’s sake” (11.1). God did “from all eternity, decree to justify all the elect,” and Christ died “for their sins” and rose again for their justification” (11.4). The justified are adopted as “children of God,” receiving the “liberties and privileges of the children of God,” inheriting God’s promises as “heirs of everlasting salvation” (12.1).

234   donald k. mckim Sanctification follows for those who are “effectually called and regenerated” (13.1). God’s Word and Spirit dwell within them and “the dominion of the whole body of sin is destroyed” to promote “the practice of true holiness” (13.1). Saving faith is both the means by which “the elect are enabled to believe” and the work of “the Spirit of Christ in their hearts” (14.1). The “principal acts of saving faith are, accepting, receiving, and resting upon Christ alone for justification, sanctification, and eternal life, by virtue of the covenant of grace” (14.2). Repentance follows, whereby individuals lament and hate their sin (15.2). A. A. Hodge pointed out that “repentance unto life can only be exercised by a soul after and in consequence of its regeneration by the Holy Spirit. God regenerates, and we, in the exercise of the new gracious ability thus given, repent.”11 Repentance is thus a response to salvation, not a cause of salvation. As Luther stressed, “good works” emerge as “the fruits and evidences of a true and lively faith” for which believers show their “thankfulness, strengthen their assurance . . . glorify God” and in other ways are expressions of faith and obedience to God’s law (16.2). Good works spring not from human initiatives but “wholly from the Spirit of Christ” (16.3). The Confession also emphasizes the perseverance of the saints. Since election is grounded in God’s loving power in Christ, those who are “effectually called and sanctified by his Spirit, can neither totally nor finally fall away from the state of grace, but shall certainly persevere therein to the end, and be eternally saved” (17.1). This Reformed emphasis on the perseverance of the saints is contrary to Arminian views that salvation may be lost by those who “backslide.” The Confession’s chapter on the assurance of grace and salvation (Art. 18) indicates believers may have “an infallible assurance of faith, founded upon the divine truth of the promises of salvation” and “other expressions of the work of God” (18.2). These operations of the Spirit provide assurance, grounded in God’s work, to preserve believers “from utter despair” (18.4). On the law of God, the Confession continues Calvin’s emphasis on its “principal use” as serving as a guide to the will of God for believers.12 The law is for “true believers” as a “rule of life, informing them of the will of God and their duty, it directs and binds them to walk accordingly” (19.6). The “catholic or universal church,” which is “invisible, consists of the whole number of the elect, that have been, are, or shall be gathered into one, under Christ the head thereof ” (25.1). The “visible Church” is all those who “profess the true religion” (25.2). The Confession teaches that sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper are “holy signs and seals of the covenant of grace” (27.1). Baptism admits individuals into the visible church and is a “sign and seal of the covenant of grace” and their ingrafting into Christ” (28.1). Those who profess faith in Christ may be baptized, as can “the infants of one or both believing parents” (28.4). On the issue of the Lord’s Supper, which was debated by the Reformers, the Confession asserts that it marks “a remembrance of the sacrifice” of Christ “in his death” and as “sealing all benefits thereof unto true believers,” who are “members of his mystical body” (29.1). Thus the sacrament effects what it represents. As A. A. Hodge

presbyterian confessions   235 put it, “The virtues and effects of the sacrifice of the body of the Redeemer on the cross are made present and are actually conveyed in the sacrament to the worthy receiver by the power of the Holy Ghost.”13 The Confession rejected the Roman Catholic view that the bread and wine change “into the substance of Christ’s body and blood (commonly called transubstantiation)” (29.6). Instead, believers who receive the sacrament in faith “really and indeed, yet not carnally and corporally, but spiritually, receive and feed upon Christ crucified, and all benefits of his death” (29.7). The Confession also rejects the Lutheran view and affirms that the body and blood of Christ “are not corporally or carnally in, with, or under the bread and wine.” Instead Christ is “really, but spiritually, present to the faith of believers in that ordinance, as the elements themselves are to their outward senses” (29.7). The Confession’s dichotomous view of humans—as body and soul—is presented in the article on the state of humans after death and of the resurrection of the dead (Art. 32). The Confession rejects “soul sleep,” asserting that human bodies “return to dust” while their souls “immediately return to God who gave them” (32.1). The souls of the righteous “are received into the highest heavens,” while the souls of the wicked “are cast into hell.” On a day He appoints, the Lord will “judge the world in righteousness by Jesus Christ” (33.1). All who have lived upon earth will “appear before the tribunal of Christ, to give an account of their thoughts, words, and deeds; and to receive according to what they have done in the body, whether good or evil” (33.1). This day of judgment manifests God’s glory both in “his mercy in the eternal salvation of the elect” and in “his justice in the damnation of the reprobate” (33.2). Believers should be “always watchful, because they know not at what hour the Lord will come; and may be ever prepared to say, Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly. Amen” (33.3).

Modifications Through the centuries, Presbyterian denominations have modified the Westminster Confession (1647). For example, they have dropped the reference to the Pope as Antichrist (25.6). After the American Revolution, the American Presbyterian church modified the article on the “Civil Magistrate” (Art. 23) to eliminate the original state over church posture of the 1647 article. Later, the Article on “Marriage and Divorce” (Art. 24) was modified by some denominations to eliminate language about degrees of consanguinity of spouses and about levirate marriage and to revise the language about remarriage. The article “Of Synods and Councils” (Art. 31) has been modified to eliminate the statement that “Magistrates may lawfully call a Synod of Ministers” etc. In 1903, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and the Presbyterian Church in the United States added an article on the Holy Spirit. It asserts that the Holy Spirit is “the third Person in the Trinity” and describes the Spirit’s work in the inspiration of Scripture and in “the dispensation of the gospel.” The Spirit is “the only efficient agent in the application of redemption.” An article “Of the Gospel of the Love of God and Missions” maintains that

236   donald k. mckim the offer of salvation is open to all persons, that Christ is “the only way of salvation,” and that the church is commissioned to “make disciples of all nations.” A 1903 Declaratory Statement by the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) argued that the doctrine of God’s eternal decrees is held in harmony with the doctrine of God’s love for “all mankind” and insisted that the Confession is not to be regarded as teaching that “any who die in infancy are lost.” Rather “all dying in infancy are included in the election of grace” and are saved.

Contemporary Presbyterian Confessions The Book of Confessions of the largest Presbyterian denomination in the United States, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), includes two contemporary confessions written by American Presbyterians. The Confession of 1967 is built around the biblical theme of reconciliation, especially as articulated in 2 Corinthians 5:16–21. Part I focuses on “God’s Work of Reconciliation” and includes the sections “The Grace of Our Lord Jesus Christ,” “The Love of God,” and “The Communion of the Holy Spirit.” Part II, “The Ministry of Reconciliation” discusses the mission and equipment of the church. Part III is “The Fulfillment of Reconciliation.” This confession emphasizes the church’s joyful response to God’s reconciliation in Christ among races, nations, and economic classes, and in sexual relations. “A Brief Statement of Faith” (1991) is a series of short statements that highlight core convictions of the Reformed tradition. It follows the pattern of the Trinitarian apostolic benediction (2 Cor. 13:14) by moving from considering the grace of Jesus Christ to the love of God to the communion of the Holy Spirit. One of its central theological convictions is the sovereignty of God, and it begins with a statement reminiscent of the Heidelberg Catechism (1563): “In life and in death we belong to God.” The Holy Spirit, who is active in the church, “calls women and men to all ministries of the Church.” The Spirit gives “courage” and enables us “to hear the voices of peoples long silenced, and to work with others for justice, freedom, and peace.” The Brief Statement ends by echoing the beginning: “With believers in every time and place, we rejoice that nothing in life or in death can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (see Romans 8:38–39). The preamble of “The New Confession of 1972” of the Presbyterian Church in the Republic of Korea declares: “We are convinced that our encounter with Christ enables us to give new insights into our traditional culture, to overcome anti-Christ powers and to renew the forms and structures of our faith and the interrelations of the churches.”14 The confession asserts that “to help the world meet Christ and thereby be transformed, we should not be enslaved by obsessive doctrinal bondage of any kind, but should be open to the everchanging society around us in the spirit of incarnation and love of neighbour.” It continues: “Mission always renews the whole Church, culture and the

presbyterian confessions   237 Christian life of each person. Contact with all cultures and with all religions is a necessity. We must open our minds and develop the power to understand the truth established by God the Creator. In meeting with other religions we will be cooperating in solving the problems of human existence and in furthering the welfare of humanity.”15After affirming earlier ecumenical and Reformed creeds, the Confession discusses the ­consummation of history: Christians live in the present through faith and hope, and they thereby experience a part of the “new heaven and earth” to come. Our peace is in the midst of struggle, our life is in the shadow of death, our happiness and gratitude is mixed with tears and suffering, our hope is received through the crisis of anti-Christian powers. We believe that at the end there will be forgiveness of sins, resurrection of the body and everlasting life.16

The Confession of the Presbyterian Reformed Church in Cuba (1977) highlights “the Centrality of the Human Being Given in Jesus Christ” and affirms that Scripture teaches that “the human being is the center of all God’s interest” and is “identified in the Scriptures with God’s very essence.” The human being is also “the center of the Church’s interest in Jesus Christ” since “the Church’s faithfulness to Jesus Christ ties it to its Lord’s historic commitment, a commitment of human Redemption through sacrificial, solidary [solidarity] and unconditional Love for the human being.” Sin is the “disintegrating distortion that acts on human life,” while salvation is “the history of the spiritual reconstruction of the human being.” Reflecting the church in Cuba’s social and political context, the confession indicates that “the Church lives through the concrete love practiced by its members when they serve the socialist society without hostility, trusting the divine-human sense of History and trusting the future which envisions a more effective peace among nations and a more real justice among human beings.” For this confession, only to the extent that “we fulfill the concrete loving demands of Justice and Peace which the divine requirement imposes on us, will we be able to satisfy the hope of really being the Church of Jesus Christ in this world.”17 The Presbyterian Church in Canada’s “Living Faith” confession (1984) seeks “to be in contact with people where they are today” and to speak “not only of God’s work in Christ, but also of sex, war, the economy, the family and justice.”18 For “if God could get involved with the grim fabric of life, then so can God’s church! So too, must the faith we confess.”19 In “Our Mission and Other Faiths,” the confession says: Some whom we encounter belong to other religions and already have a faith. Their lives often give evidence of devotion and reverence for life. We recognize that truth and goodness in them are the work of God’s Spirit, the author of all truth. We should not address others in a spirit of arrogance implying that we are better than they.

238   donald k. mckim But rather, in the spirit of humility, as beggars telling others where food is to be found, we point to life in Christ.20

This confession is unusual in that it recognizes the value of doubt while also affirming that “Christian truth acknowledges the difficulties of belief and the ambiguities of the life of faith.”21 It says: Questioning may be a sign of growth. It may also be disobedience: we must be honest with ourselves. Since we are to love God with our minds, as well as our hearts, the working through of doubt is part of our growth in faith. The church includes many who struggle with doubt. Jesus accepted the man who prayed: “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.”22

Conclusion Presbyterian confessions from the Reformation period to the present display a variety of forms and emphases. The Westminster Confession was a full theological exposition of Christian faith from a Reformed theological perspective. Later confessions have provided varying amounts of theological discussion in line with Reformed perspectives. In recent times, confessions have also addressed social issues and contemporary problems, considering them to be matters of importance on which the church should speak. The desire of Presbyterians to confess Christian faith continues. Earlier confessions will undoubtedly continue to have their place as expressions of what the church believes. New focuses of confessions will emerge as Presbyterians seek God’s directions in the midst of changing social and cultural contexts. Presbyterians want to witness to their faith, a faith which is ever old and ever new.

Notes 1. John Calvin, The Second Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians, and the Epistles to Timothy, Titus and Philemon, ed. David W. Torrance and Thomas F. Torrance, trans. T. A. Smail, Calvin’s New Testament Commentaries 10 (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 1979), Comm. 2 Corinthians 4:13, p. 62. 2. For these see Arthur  C.  Cochrane, ed., Reformed Confessions of the Sixteenth Century (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003). 3. See Maurice  W.  Armstrong, Lefferts  A.  Loetscher, and Charles  A.  Anderson, eds., The Presbyterian Enterprise (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1956), 30.

presbyterian confessions   239 4. Philip Schaff, Creeds of Christendom, 3 vols. 4th ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1977), 1:815. 5. See Book of Confessions: Study Edition (Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 1996). 6. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John  T.  McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles, 2 vols., Library of Christian Classics (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 1:16, 17. 7. Archibald Alexander Hodge, A Commentary on the Confession of Faith, rpt. (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-School Work, 1901), 181. 8. John Leith, “Westminster Confession of Faith,” in Donald K. McKim, ed., Encyclopedia of the Reformed Faith (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992), 393. 9. Martin Luther, The Bondage of the Will, ed. Leppin Volker and Kirsi I. Stjerna (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2016); Calvin, Institutes, 2:2. 10. Schaff, Creeds, 1:774. 11. Hodge, Confession of Faith, 288. 12. Calvin, Institutes, 2.7.12. 13. Hodge, Confession of Faith, 492. 14. Lukas Vischer, ed., Reformed Witness Today: A Collection of Confessions and Statements of Faith Issued by Reformed Churches (Bern, Switzerland: Evangelische Arbeitsstelle Oekume Schweiz, 1982), 70. 15. Vischer, 83–84. 16. Vischer, 85. 17. Vischer, 170, 171, 177, 179, 185, 190. 18. The Presbyterian Church in Canada, “Living Faith: A Statement of Faith,” 1984, available for download at http://presbyterian.ca/?attachment_id=33402, see the introduction, 2. 19. “Living Faith,” introduction, 3. 20. “Living Faith,” 9.2.1. 21. “Living Faith,” introduction, 3. 22. “Living Faith,” 6.2.2.

Bibliography Book of Confessions: Study Edition. Revised. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2017. Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. 2 vols. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Library of Christian Classics. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960. Cochrane, Arthur  C., ed. Reformed Confessions of the Sixteenth Century. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003. Hodge, Archibald Alexander. A Commentary on the Confession of Faith. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-School Work, 1901. Leith, John H. Assembly at Westminster: Reformed Theology in the Making. Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1973. McKim, Donald K., ed. Encyclopedia of the Reformed Faith. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992. Paul, Robert S. The Assembly of the Lord: Politics and Religion in the Westminster Assembly and the “Grand Debate.” Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1985. Schaff, Philip. Creeds of Christendom. 4th ed. 3 vols. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1977. Vischer, Lukas, ed. Reformed Witness Today: A Collection of Confessions and Statements of Faith Issued by Reformed Churches. Bern, Switzerland: Evangelische Arbeitsstelle Oekumene Schweiz, 1982.

chapter 14

The Doctr i n e of th e Sacr a m en ts Gordon S. Mikoski

Introduction Famously, John Calvin held that the true church can be found wherever the Word of God is rightly proclaimed and heard and where the sacraments are rightly celebrated.1 This dual criterion has several implications for Presbyterian ecclesiology. It means that Word and sacraments necessarily belong together when one is thinking about the definition and work of the church. The church, therefore, can never be a community defined only by ideas; it is, instead, a community defined by ideas and practices taken together. As a community established, maintained, and built up by the work of the Holy Spirit to bring people to faith in Jesus Christ and through him to glorify the First Person of the Trinity, the church exists as a community of mediation in the sense that the grace of the Triune God bears witness to and is communicated to the church by means of Word, baptism, and Holy Communion. This conviction of the priority of mediation of  God’s grace through these means does not preclude in Presbyterian theology the direct work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of individuals, communities, and the world at large. This priority in connection with such ordinary sensory things as human speech, the natural element of water, and the cultural products of bread and wine bears witness to the broader work of the Trinity in the warp and woof of everyday life and faith.

On Sacraments in General The various Presbyterian traditions share the same insights, issues, and inquiries on the sacraments as the larger Reformed family of which they are a part. Presbyterians affirm the two dominical sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s Supper and tend to reflect

242   Gordon S. Mikoski theologically about them in broad Augustinian terms. Presbyterian churches around the world clearly differentiate between the “thing” and the “thing signified,” or between the ordinary sacramental elements and the grace of God in Jesus Christ made known by the work of the Holy Spirit. All Presbyterian denominations agree that too closely identifying the “thing” and the “thing signified” results in the panoply of theological errors associated with Roman Catholic sacramental realism (also known as “transubstantiation”). Instead, Presbyterians affirm that baptism and the Lord’s Supper bear witness to the reality of the resurrected and ascended Jesus Christ. In concert with Augustine, Presbyterians believe that Jesus Christ is the true presider at the sacraments. They insist that church leaders are, in some sense, assistants to the true Pastor and that the holiness of the human presider does not affect the validity of the sacraments. Along with Augustine, Presbyterians also believe that the sacraments are “visible signs of an invisible grace” and require the presence of the Word (at a minimum, the Triune name), Spirit, and faith to be objectively valid. For them to be subjectively effectual, Presbyterians believe that the Holy Spirit has to inspire the faith that enables the individuals and communities partaking of the sacraments to understand their benefits. Some tension exists within the world of Presbyterianism—even within particular denominations—about the degree to which the sacraments are more than merely signs of or pointers to the grace of God in Jesus Christ. All Presbyterians support the notion that the sacraments are signs of the salvation accomplished once and for all through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. The tendency among some Presbyterian denominations to view the sacraments as mere memorials to Christ’s death takes its cues from sixteenth-century Reformer Ulrich Zwingli’s sacramental theology. In this view, nothing special or extraordinary takes place in baptism or the Lord’s Supper. The only transformational work of the Holy Spirit when the sacraments are administered is making the community more loving and united as a result of its heightened consciousness of the grace of God in the gospel. In this view, all believers are already united with Jesus Christ by the work of the Holy Spirit through faith. The sacraments do not bring about something new, nor do they change the intensity of people’s connection with Jesus Christ by faith. This emphasizes the essentially pedagogical or merely covenantal character of the sacraments. The sacraments give individual believers and congregations tangible reminders of the daily presence of God’s grace. A significant number of Presbyterians, however, affirm that the sacraments are also “seals” of grace. With language borrowed from Calvin, this group asserts that the sacraments are not merely “empty signs” because the Holy Spirit works through the celebration of the sacraments to make those who participate in them present to the ascended and reigning Jesus Christ in an intensified or disclosive manner.2 In contrast with Roman Catholics and Lutherans, who emphasize the coming of Christ from heaven to earth in the sacraments, the more Calvinist tendency within Presbyterianism emphasizes the work of the Holy Spirit to make participants present to Jesus Christ who is in heaven.3 In this way of understanding, what takes place in the sacraments is decidedly mystical

The Doctrine of the Sacraments   243 and eschatological. These Presbyterians maintain that the sacraments take place on two interconnected levels simultaneously: the material and the spiritual. The water or the bread and wine are not miraculously transformed, yet they become the occasion for and the pointer to the mystical action transacted between the participants and Jesus Christ through the work of the Holy Spirit. Those Presbyterian groups and individuals who adhere to this view of the sacraments typically want more frequent, even weekly, celebration of the Lord’s Supper and a central profile for baptism in corporate worship, particularly at the point of confession of sin, declaration of pardon, changes in ecclesial status, commissioning for mission, and life transitions like weddings and funerals. More Calvinist-oriented Presbyterians position themselves theologically between Roman Catholics and Lutherans, on the one side (who, they argue, place too much emphasis on the divine nature of Christ and drag “Christ down out of heaven”), and Zwinglians and free church Protestants, on the other side (who, these Presbyterians insist, do not put enough emphasis on the Spirit-mediated real and spiritual encounter with the ascended Christ). Despite their differences of emphasis on the Trinitarian dynamics at work in the sacraments, all Presbyterians strongly emphasize the implications of sacramental participation for Christian life and witness. Both baptism and Holy Communion function paradigmatically for the life of discipleship. Although baptism is a one-time event, it has ongoing implications for believers. They must struggle daily against the lingering effects of sin, corrupt desires, injustice, hatred, and evil. Through prayer and humility, they must also be open daily to the renewing and transforming power of the Holy Spirit, conforming them to the image of Jesus Christ in all things. Similarly, gathering at the Lord’s table means that the Christian life has a rhythm: taking, lifting up, giving thanks, remembering, being broken open and poured out for others, and sharing. The daily implications of baptism and the Lord’s Supper are not limited to the personal piety of Christian believers and congregations; they also have profound consequences for the mission and witness of the church in the world. Those who participate in the sacraments are called corporately to bear witness to the central event of Jesus’s death and resurrection as they work in love and justice to care for marginalized, sinful, and godforsaken peoples of every race, class, and gender. They are also called to confront idolatry in ecclesial, social, economic, and political dimensions of human life.4 For all Presbyterians, sacramental participation carries strong implications for both the vertical (spiritual) and horizontal (ethical) dimensions of Christian faith. Before briefly considering specific issues related to each sacrament, it should be noted that Presbyterians eschew ecclesial traditions associated with the sacraments that do not accord with the plain and simple teachings of Scripture. Presbyterians, therefore, do not accept such early church and medieval practices as exsufflation, exorcism of water, reserved elements, or anything that smacks of ostentation, excessive ornamentation, or even well-intended enhancements or embellishments.5 Presbyterians celebrate the sacraments with simple, biblically guided dignity and decorum.

244   Gordon S. Mikoski

Baptism For Presbyterians, baptism serves as the rite of Christian initiation. This event, which should not be repeated, marks a person as belonging to Christ and provides entrance into the Body of Christ. Theologically speaking, this family of denominations emphasizes God’s gracious initiative, which precedes and gives rise to the human response of faith. The salvific promises of God are applied bodily, corporately, and epicletically to the person being baptized.6 Since Presbyterians agree with Augustine and Martin Luther on the primacy of grace, they have always affirmed infant baptism, or paedobaptism. Within the context of faith on the part of at least one Christian parent or guardian and surrounded by the commitment of a congregation, the promises of God are applied to babies as an embodiment of the primacy of grace in human life. The covenantal character of baptism is affirmed in Colossians 2:11–14 (in which baptism is analogous to circumcision of infants and adult converts in the Old Testament) and on the day of Pentecost as recorded in Acts 2:39 (in which the promises of salvation are also applied to the children of believers). In this covenant of grace, God promises to love and nurture the one being baptized, and the members of the church and his or her parent(s) or sponsor promise to model and teach the Christian faith to the baptizand. Without the robust commitment to Christian education and the nurture of at least one parent or guardian and of the congregation, Presbyterians believe that paedobaptism too easily reverts to a kind of medieval “fire insurance” that runs the risk of making a mockery of the demands of the Gospel. The form of water in baptism does not matter to Presbyterians; as long as some form of water is administered in the Triune name and faith is professed (either by the person being baptized or the parents or sponsors and by the congregation). The vast majority of Presbyterians around the world use some form of sprinkling as the main form of administering the sacrament. Nothing, however, prevents them from using effusion or immersion. The crucial matter is not the form of water, but the combination of water, the Word of God, and faith. Nearly a century of participation in ecumenical dialogue and liturgical reform has led some Presbyterians to reintroduce the practice of anointing in connection with baptism. The application of oil on the forehead of the newly baptized person offers a way to underscore the “sealing” and epicletic dimensions of baptism. Though there is significant biblical grounding for this practice, Presbyterians tend to treat it with caution because scriptural texts pertaining to baptism do not explicitly call for it. To maintain order in the church, the session of a congregation has the authority to approve persons presented for baptism. Such approval comes only after investigating the motives, faith, pattern of life, and ecclesial commitment of either those presenting those children or themselves for baptism. Presbyterians do not practice baptism on demand or do emergency baptisms. Sessions need time to adequately consider the circumstances and motivations involved in requests for baptism. Traditionally, only pastors (teaching elders) were authorized by sessions to administer baptism. Many congregations today

The Doctrine of the Sacraments   245 cannot afford even a part-time ordained pastor. Therefore, ruling elders are now permitted to administer this sacrament. No matter who administers baptism, the sacrament can take place only as directed by the authority of the appropriate governing body, usually the session of the local church.

Holy Communion While baptism is for Presbyterians the sacrament of initiation into the church, the sacrament of Holy Communion is at the core of the church’s corporate life and work. Whereas in Presbyterian theology baptism may take place only once, the baptized should participate frequently in the Lord’s Supper. Presbyterians affirm that the celebration of Holy Communion is given by God to strengthen the faith of the baptized. The elements of bread and wine play an important but subordinate role because they do not change in any metaphysical or mystical way. Instead, these ordinary products of culture serve as a material occasion for something that takes place spiritually. In this sense, Holy Communion has a bi-dimensional reality. The actions associated with the elements aid worshippers in recalling and deepening their appropriation of the gift of salvation accomplished by Christ’s death and resurrection. The elements do not have a sacrificial dimension; rather, they point to the sacrifice Christ already accomplished. More than merely signs, the broken bread and poured out wine seal or accentuate the proclamation of the saving death of the Lord. While neither transformed into the body and blood of Jesus Christ nor mere audiovisual aids, the elements aid participants to “lift their hearts up to the Lord” who lives and reigns in heaven. Underlying a Presbyterian view of what takes place in Communion are the interrelated doctrines of Christology and the Ascension. Presbyterians affirm the enduring reality of Chalcedonian Christology, particularly the ongoing fully human nature of Jesus Christ. Because he has ascended, he cannot be ubiquitously present in the Supper (which would overemphasize his fully divine nature to the detriment and occlusion of his human nature). The “localized” presence and ongoing humanity of Jesus Christ necessitates the work of the Holy Spirit to bridge the gap between where Christ is and where believers gathered around his table are. Pushed to its logical conclusion theologically, this also means that the celebration of Holy Communion also has an eschatological character and is a foretaste of the heavenly banquet presided over by Christ at the end of time. From the sixteenth century through most of the twentieth century, Presbyterians usually celebrated Holy Communion only four times a year: Christmas, Easter, Pentecost, and once in the fall. Positively stated, the four times a year pattern encouraged taking the sacrament seriously, particularly by providing an opportunity to attend preparatory services and, in some cases, examination by the session. For much of Presbyterian history, a pious and privatistic interpretation of the apostle Paul’s teachings in I Corinthians 11 (especially eating and drinking “in an unworthy manner”) gave the

246   Gordon S. Mikoski sacrament a solemn, even penitential, feeling. The sacrament was connected with the atoning sacrifice of Jesus’s death on Good Friday through communicants’ repentance and spiritual recommitment. Preparatory services emphasized penitence for one’s sins and a renewed commitment to live a holy and upright life. To participate in a service of Holy Communion, individuals had to present a metal or paper token that was given to them at a service held a week or more before the celebration of the sacrament. Among Presbyterians around the world, very few preparatory services are held today and the distribution of tokens rarely occurs. The function of the preparatory services has been absorbed into the Prayer of Confession and Assurance of Pardon in the standard order for corporate worship on Sunday mornings. The lightening of the tone and theological understanding of Holy Communion during the second half of the twentieth century led to somewhat more frequent celebrations throughout the church year. Many Presbyterian congregations around the world today celebrate Holy Communion once a month, and sometimes also on special Sundays on the liturgical calendar. Still reticent to celebrate the sacrament too often for fear of denigrating its importance and holiness, most Presbyterians do not have Communion every week. In some places, however, the sacrament is celebrated weekly as “the joyful feast of the people of God” and Jesus’s resurrection, ascension, and future return is emphasized. The exact forms of bread and the fruit of the vine are not crucial issues for Presbyterians; the key point is that the Word of God is connected to these two ­elements—insofar as is culturally possible.7 Bread may be leavened or unleavened; the cup may be filled with either wine or grape juice. In cultures in which wheat bread or the fruit of the vine are nonstandard or difficult to obtain, equivalent forms of the most basic food and drink of a culture may be substituted. For Presbyterians, the form of bread and wine matter far less than that the elements provide the opportunity for spiritually feeding on the living body and blood of Jesus Christ in, with, and by faith.

Contemporary Issues The various Presbyterian bodies around the world today face a range of internal and external issues related to the significance of baptism and the Lord’s Supper. The question of who may administer the sacraments has come into focus since the middle of the twentieth century. Since that time, several Presbyterian denominations have ordained women and afford them equal status in presiding over celebration of the sacraments. This is a highly contested matter, however, and points to the deeper problem of embedded patriarchal norms in some regions. Whether lesbian, bisexual, gay, transgender, questioning, or intersex (LGBTQI) persons may be ordained as teaching elders and “rightly celebrate” the sacraments poses an even greater challenge to Presbyterian belief and practice. Sharp differences over these issues have led in several cases to rupture of ties between Presbyterian denominations.

The Doctrine of the Sacraments   247 In North America strife over this issue has led to the founding of new Presbyterian denominations or covenant fellowships. Although much less contested, the issue of whether only ordained clergy may administer the sacraments has arisen in many places in the Presbyterian world because of either a shortage of clergy or the high cost of supporting seminary-trained and ordained pastors. Financial exigency has prompted many congregations to allow teaching elders to undertake these responsibilities. These various controversies press the question, “Who does God call to rightly celebrate the sacraments?” Presbyterian bodies around the world struggle with this question both internally and in relationships with other Presbyterian denominations. In addition, some North American and Western European Presbyterians express concerns about the propriety of traditional Trinitarian language arising from Matthew 28:19 that is used in baptism. Here, the first two divine Persons have masculine appellations, while the third Person has a neuter term. In response to feminist theological critique, some effort was made in the 1970s and 1980s to refer to the Holy Spirit in feminine terms. That hardly resolved the matter, and only shifted patriarchy into another key. Two proposals have emerged more recently. The first entails referring to the Trinity in essentially functionalist but gender-neutral terms: Creator, Sustainer, and Redeemer. This proposal, though it has found traction in some quarters, raises deeper theological issues about the nature of divine Personhood and the interrelated action of the three Persons in creation, redemption, and transformation. The second proposal involves preserving and surrounding the traditional Triune formula with feminine language (for example, “I baptize you in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, God and Mother of us all.”). This debate continues today and can likely find resolution only at the level of contemporary work on the doctrine of the Trinity. Global Presbyterian traditions also face questions about the relationship between the two sacraments. While affirming both paedobaptism and believer’s baptism—with a decided theological and historical preference for paedobaptism—critical questions have been posed about the contemporary propriety of infant baptism. The long-standing requirement for spiritual and moral self-awareness before coming to the Lord’s Supper has since the middle of the twentieth century been increasingly seen by some Presbyterians, especially those influenced by the views of Reformed theologians Karl Barth and Jürgen Moltmann, as relevant to baptism. Is the practice of infant baptism still viable theologically and practically when various forms of “cultural Christianity” abound in every country with a Presbyterian presence? Should the baptism of small children continue when evidence for serious commitment to Christian education and nurture is frequently lacking on the part of parents or congregations? This problem has caused some to argue for making believer’s baptism the norm. Others, however, maintain that classical Presbyterian theological arguments for the priority of grace and the shaping role of covenantal commitment are as relevant today as they were in the early church, when the tradition of infant baptism began. Related to the question of the relevance of paedobaptism among Presbyterian churches, significant numbers of those who were baptized as infants or very small children

248   Gordon S. Mikoski often express today a desire for rebaptism. They often cite their lack of memory of their baptism as a driving force. They want to have a significant religious experience associated with baptism. Requests for rebaptism point to a fundamental breakdown in teaching about the interconnectedness of the two sacraments. Because the same grace and the same Holy Spirit are operative in baptism as in Holy Communion, every time the baptized gather at the table of the Lord, baptism is renewed and refreshed. The same Word and Spirit that are at work in the rite of Christian initiation operate in relation to mystery of the sharing of bread and cup. Another major question is whether baptized infants and young children may partake in Holy Communion. In classical Presbyterianism, access to the Lord’s Supper was granted only to those who met three criteria: having been baptized, possessing a basic understanding of the meaning of Communion, and professing faith in Jesus Christ as demonstrated in repentance and a commitment to live an upright life of discipleship as an active member of the church. The second criterion received much critical attention in the twentieth century. How much and what kind of knowledge does a baptized person need to meet the minimum qualifications for admission to Holy Communion? What about preconfirmation children who have faith in Jesus and a basic understanding of what it means to be a Christian? What about people who have limited cognitive abilities or those who because of dementia cannot understand the meaning of the Lord’s table? Some Presbyterian denominations have abandoned the traditional knowledge requirement and stipulate that baptism is the only necessary precondition for admission to the Lord’s Supper. On the other hand, a few Presbyterian bodies no longer require baptism as a prerequisite for admission to Communion—only faith in Jesus Christ and a commitment to live as his disciple. As with issues pertaining to who may preside and paedobaptism, the question of who may take Communion and a “maximally open” table is fiercely contested both within and among many Presbyterian denominations.8 A subset of the issue of baptized children receiving Holy Communion pertains to the well-established Presbyterian tradition of confirmation. Historically, Presbyterians have baptized their babies and provided instruction in basic Christian belief and practice in the home and in the church. Around the age of twelve, baptized children would enter a period of intense instruction in Christianity, lasting for a year or more. Upon successful completion of the confirmation class and satisfactory examination by elders, baptized youth were admitted to Holy Communion for the first time. This pattern held sway in most Presbyterian denominations until the 1970s. Since then, many denominations have revised their policies for admission to the Lord’s Supper to reflect growing skepticism about the knowledge requirement. Acknowledging that many preconfirmation children express faith in Jesus Christ, and recognizing the cognitive limitations of some persons of all ages, the two largest Presbyterians denominations in America—Presbyterian Church in the United States and the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA)—opted in the early 1970s to allow children to participate in Communion prior to confirmation. This change, however, left unresolved the deepest question about necessary qualifications for admission to Holy Communion. Some argue that baptism alone qualifies a person for admission to the Lord’s Supper. Others maintain that some

The Doctrine of the Sacraments   249 form of instruction and concomitant understanding is necessary. Debates around this aspect of the relationship between the two sacraments often depend upon whether one interprets I Corinthians 10 and 11 as a matter of individual piety or as a matter of social righteousness in the community of faith. The traditional Presbyterian reading of Paul’s admonition to the Corinthian congregation emphasized the lack of proper spiritual motivation on the part of individuals. A more recent, contextually complex interpretation of this passage argues instead that Paul reprimands the congregation for replicating the rigid socioeconomic stratifications of Greco-Roman society within the church, which was particularly visible in Communion. Presbyterians today also explore the implications of Holy Communion for ecumenical relations. Many Presbyterian bodies found a great deal to affirm in the 1982 Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry proposal of the World Council of Churches, but also expressed concern about the tendency in that document for the Supper to eclipse the centrality of the Word of God and to underemphasize the ethical imperatives arising from this sacrament. Recent progress in resolving long-standing division between Presbyterians and Lutherans over Communion—in which both sides essentially agreed to disagree amicably about what takes place theologically in the sacrament—augurs well for future agreements with other Protestant bodies.9 The Calvinist strain of Presbyterianism—which emphasizes the Holy Spirit’s work to make communicants present to Jesus Christ in heaven opens interesting possibilities for constructive dialogue with the Eastern Orthodox churches. The most difficult challenge for ecumenical rapprochement on the sacraments continues to lie in the theological disagreement between Presbyterians and Roman Catholics about Holy Communion.10 Life in the digital age has begun to pose a whole new set of challenges for Presbyterians in relation to the sacraments. To what extent or in what ways might baptism and Communion be celebrated in an online environment?11 What are the implications of making time, space, or both together variables in corporate worship? Does the body of the person baptized have to be physically present in order for baptism to be valid? Can Communion be celebrated by members of a congregation who are spread out across the globe but linked digitally in real time and have the elements ready at hand? If Presbyterians gather in a digital environment and participate virtually in a Communion liturgy, do they actually participate in the sacrament? Such questions only scratch the surface of what promises to be a very lively, if contentious, exploration of the place of the sacraments for Presbyterians in the years to come.

Notes 1. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John  T.  McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 4.1.9. 2. Calvin, Institutes, 4.14. 3. Along with Roman Catholics and Lutherans, Calvinist-oriented Presbyterians affirm that worshippers have a genuine encounter with the ascended Christ in the sacraments. They differ, however, on the manner of that encounter. The primary issue at stake is the human

250   Gordon S. Mikoski nature of Jesus Christ after the Ascension. Calvin sought to preserve the genuinely and thoroughly human nature of Christ after the Ascension and in his heavenly reign. These Presbyterians argue that overstressing the divine nature of Christ in the sacraments, as in the Catholic notion of transubstantiation or the Lutheran notion of “ubiquity,” runs the risk of eclipsing his human nature post-Ascension and, inadvertently but necessarily, raises vexing questions about the extent to which Christ was fully human even during his earthly ministry. 4. Most of the worldwide Presbyterian bodies that responded formally to the World Council of Churches’ proposal text Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry expressed great concern about the underdevelopment of the ethical and social implications of baptism and the Lord’s Supper in the text. See the entries for Presbyterian churches in Max Thurian, ed., Churches Respond to BEM: Official Responses to the “Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry” Text, vols. 1–5 (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1986–1988). 5. Exsufflation involves the exorcism of baptismal candidates by the priest blowing on them, analogous to Christ blowing on the disciples and imparting to them the Holy Spirit (John 20:22–23). Exorcism of water entails clerical prayer and, sometimes, pouring sanctified oil into the baptismal pool both to cast out any evil spirits and to call upon the Holy Spirit to suffuse the water. The concept of reserved elements reflects the view of transubstantiation that the substance of the bread and the wine—but not the external forms or “accidents”—have been changed into the real presence of Jesus’s body and blood on the earth; once changed, the elements continue to bear the presence of Christ and should, therefore, be revered as the local presence of Christ on the earth. 6. The term epiclesis means “calling upon the Holy Spirit.” Far from being magic, a prayer of epiclesis implores the Holy Spirit to enact the promises provided by the Word of God while recognizing that human beings cannot and do not make this happen. 7. In the absence of bread or grape-based libations, Presbyterians tend to allow for dynamic equivalents of the elements of Communion (i.e., the most basic form of food and drink operative in particular cultures), even though using some form of bread and some form of grape liquid in the celebration of the sacrament is highly preferable. 8. The term “maximally open” is used here to distinguish between those who disregard baptism as a necessary condition for coming to the Lord’s Supper and those who wish to practice an “open table” in which any person baptized in the Triune name and a member of any Christian church may be included in the sharing of bread and cup. 9. See both Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry (Geneva, Switzerland: World Council of Churches, 1982); and Thurian, Churches Respond to BEM. 10. For a contemporary engagement between Presbyterian and Roman Catholic views of Holy Communion, see George Hunsinger’s The Eucharist and Ecumenism: Let Us Keep the Feast (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008). 11. See, for example, my editorial, “Bringing the Body to the Table,” Theology Today 67, no. 3 (2010): 255–259.

Bibliography Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry. Geneva, Switzerland: World Council of Churches, 1982. Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960.

The Doctrine of the Sacraments   251 Hunsinger, George. The Eucharist and Ecumenism: Let Us Keep the Feast. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2008. Mikoski, Gordon. “Bringing the Body to the Table.” Theology Today 67, no. 3 (2010): 255–259. Thurian, Max, ed. Churches Respond to BEM: Official Responses to the “Baptism, Eucharist and Ministry” Text. Vols. 1–5. Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1986–1988. World Communion of Reformed Churches: http://wcrc.ch/members.

chapter 15

Pr esby ter i a n Ecum en ism Louis B. Weeks

Introduction Most Presbyterians possess an ecumenical spirit. They recognize other denominations as parts of the Body of Christ just as surely as their own Reformed part. They cooperate in service, worship, and witness even with Christians in denominations that do not perceive Presbyterians as adequately faithful believers. Presbyterians have been involved in practically every major ecumenical endeavor; American Presbyterians had even participated in some interdenominational endeavors before they formed their own denominations. The largest bodies of American Presbyterians at various times have merged or, more frequently, considered merger with one another, with similarly Reformed denominations, and with other Protestant bodies. Divisions from the major Presbyterian denominations have been even more numerous, but those that split off have also engaged in ecumenical activities and alliances of their own. Today, however, ecumenism is most evident in Presbyterian congregational life and in the pervasive mobility of American Christians. Most American Presbyterians have themselves previously belonged to other parts of the Body of Christ, while most of those confirmed as Presbyterians have “switched” to other denominations, to so-called nondenominational churches, or to the fastest-growing segment of American demography, “No Religious Preference.”1 Presbyterians have come by their ecumenism honestly. It is based on Gospel admonitions to be “one” in Christ Jesus and the ubiquitous advice in letters to young churches to This chapter is indebted to the seven-volume series, The Presbyterian Presence: The Twentieth Century Experience, ed. Milton J Coalter, John  M.  Mulder, and Louis  B.  Weeks (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1989–1992); and to A History of the Ecumenical Movement, 1517–1948, ed. Ruth Rouse and Stephen C. Neill, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967).

254   louis b. weeks fulfill God’s mission and for people to “love one another.”2 John Calvin and other Reformed leaders perceived biblical authority as paramount in determining the worship and work of Christians. Likewise, they respected the early ecumenical councils that adopted Nicene and Chalcedonian symbols affirming a singular “Holy Catholic Church.” Calvin spoke of the “invisible church” comprising all those God ordained “from the beginning of the world” to enjoy eternal life with Christ. And he referred to the “visible church,” the “mother” of believers. In the visible church, as in Scripture itself, God has “accommodated himself to our capacity.” Christians must exercise “a certain charitable judgment whereby we recognize as members of the church those who, by confession of faith, by example of life, and by partaking of the sacraments, profess the same God and Christ with us.”3 Reformed confessions, though less generous in their ecumenical position than Calvin, have continued to believe the “one Holy Catholic Church” and recognize, as the Westminster Confession of Faith expresses it, that “particular churches which are members thereof, are more or less pure.” Even the purest are “subject to both mixture and error.”4

Colonial American Ecumenism The very first colonists to arrive in Virginia in 1607 were ecumenical already. Most of them were part of the emerging Presbyterian party in the Church of England. Even after Virginia became a “Royal Colony” in 1624, Presbyterian congregations and ministers ordained in the Church of Scotland cooperated in Virginia religious life with the increasingly hierarchical Anglican establishment.5 The second wave of Puritans in New England also included significant numbers of Presbyterians. In Salem, Massachusetts Bay, Connecticut, and later in the rest of the British colonies, Presbyterians embodied a moderate Christian presence, cooperating freely in most cases with those of other Protestant bodies as neighbors, citizens, and commercial partners. Presbyterian Puritans, Scots, Scotch-Irish, Swiss, Huguenots, Dutch, and Welsh Calvinists—while holding different positions on Reformed governance— all belonged to congregations in those first presbyteries, constituting a significant Presbyterian presence in many colonies. The Great Awakening of the 1720s and 1730s was an ecumenical movement. Theodore J. Frelinghuysen, a Dutch Reformed pastor preached repentance and conversion among Presbyterians in such a way that numerous congregations became agitated and exercised. Presbyterian William Tennent and his sons William and Gilbert soon followed suit. Meanwhile, Anglican George Whitefield preached Calvinist sermons in Presbyterianled revivals. Congregationalist Jonathan Edwards, who had Presbyterian proclivities, provided a theological foundation for a revival-oriented Calvinism. Congregations and presbyteries also divided sharply in reaction to the Awakening. Old Side and New Side Presbyterians, who separated in 1741 over the propriety of revivals, reunited in 1758 and became more ecumenically inclined. Already in colonial times, Presbyterians

presbyterian ecumenism   255 c­ ollaborated with Congregationalists, Anglicans, and others to found and support ­colleges for settlers and for Native Americans.

Ecumenical Endeavors in the New Nation At the conclusion of the American Revolution, when Presbyterians in several states could have sought establishment—and become a privileged, state-church—almost all of them preferred that the new nation have freedom of religion, expressing their solidarity with dissenting minorities. Inspired by the exuberance of a new nation, the new Presbyterian Church in the USA (PCUSA), established in 1788, fomented a “Plan of Union” with Congregationalists in 1801, so that the two Reformed bodies could collaborate in serving settlers on the frontier by helping them plant churches and schools. At the same time, Presbyterians were at the core of a “Second Great Awakening” that streaked across the “West”—Kentucky, Tennessee, and Ohio—but also affected Christians in every part of the new nation. “Scotch-Irish” Presbyterians, emulating patterns they had used in Scotland, and eager for preachers who could baptize the children and marry the enamored, provided much of the impetus for the sometimes raucous but usually effective revivals.6 In the spirit of collaboration, Presbyterians, Congregationalists, Dutch Reformed, Baptists, and Christians formed a mostly informal coalition to evangelize the frontier, mitigate the horrors of American slavery, educate both men and women, and improve living conditions. This “evangelical united front,” as it came to be called, formed organizations to achieve specific goals, such as the American Bible Society (1816), the American Colonization Society (1817), the American Sunday School Union (1824). the American Tract Society (1825), the American Temperance Society (1826), and the American Peace Society (1828). Presbyterians were front and center in most of them. Mission societies sprang up as part and parcel of this “benevolent enterprise,” and were sometimes more competitive than collaborative. The American Home Missionary Society (1826), for example, grew from a Presbyterian United Domestic Mission Society to encompass Congregationalists. When the Presbyterians divided into Old School and New School assemblies in the mid-1830s, a main source of friction was that close alliance with Congregationalists. The New Schoolers kept collaborating in mission efforts with Congregationalists. Presbyterians also participated enthusiastically in the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, which began in 1810. Through the American Anti-Slavery Society founded in 1833 and other abolitionist endeavors, some Presbyterians helped in the Underground Railroad and the “free soil” movements. Missionary efforts in other parts of the world also provided links among Protestant denominations before the Civil War—again spearheaded in part by Presbyterians, many

256   louis b. weeks of whom were Americans. The Evangelical Alliance formed in England in 1846, comprising denominational leaders from the United States, Canada, and nine European countries. Individuals as well as denominations could belong to the alliance, which stated that it sought “co-operation immediately, with a view to incorporation afterwards.”7 Among its early accomplishments were powerful prayer meetings led by many Protestant pastors, powerful advocacy of missions throughout the world, and an active defense of Christian churches against oppression by governments in Russia, Turkey, and elsewhere.

Organizing Presbyterian Ecumenical Engagement In the latter decades of the nineteenth century, as the organization of American and European commerce, manufacture, governments, and society in general became more complex and leaders sought to make institutions more “efficient,” Presbyterian denominations followed suit. Old School and New School Presbyterians reunited quickly after the war, forming again the PCUSA in 1869; and their mission among African Americans included establishing congregations and presbyteries in the South that made the PCUSA a national denomination. This body, at once the largest and most inclusive American Presbyterian denomination ever since, has led the way in ecumenical endeavors. Historian Don Yoder has pointed out that a vibrant religious education movement yielded “ecumenical fruit” during the Gilded Age, such as the International Sunday School Lessons (1872) and the forming of Christian Endeavor societies for young people. In addition, the recasting of Dwight L. Moody–type revivalism toward social reform helped foster a new social gospel. With these ecumenical efforts in revivals, Christian education, and social amelioration came a spate of hymns, such as Phillips Brooks’s “O Little Town of Bethlehem” (1868), and pan-Protestant practices of piety, such as mid-week prayer meetings and periodic evangelistic services. These ecumenical endeavors proved to be international in scope and enduring in Christian nurture and evangelism. They increased ecumenism by expanding cooperation on both domestic and international religious, educational, and social reform—and by promoting dialogue and conferences among church bodies.8 Formal denominational ecumenism also became more widespread in the later decades of the nineteenth century. Denominational ecumenism followed two paths. On the one hand, Presbyterian denominations grew closer to other Reformed bodies. On the other hand, they sought to cooperate, first with other Protestant groups and subsequently with those in Roman Catholic and Orthodox traditions. The PCUSA General Assembly of 1873 voted to establish the Alliance of Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian System. The United Presbyterian Church of North  America (UPCNA), formed in 1858, joined quickly. After some debate, the  Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), or “Southern Presbyterian

presbyterian ecumenism   257 Church,” also agreed to membership. Presbyterian Churches in several other nations agreed to participate, and the first assembly of the Alliance of Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian System met in 1875 in London. In the 1880s and 1890s, the Evangelical Alliance envisioned creating several ­organizations that included most Protestant bodies. Out of this effervescence of unity and cooperation eventually came such single-purpose organizations in which many Presbyterians participated as the United Stewardship Council, the National Protestant Council on Higher Education, Church World Service, and the Protestant Radio Commission. In 1908, thirty-three Protestant bodies established the Federal Council of Churches (FCC). Both the PCUSA and the UPCNA were founding members. The PCUS joined, withdrew, joined again, withdrew again as its General Assemblies vacillated—concerned primarily that the social agenda of the FCC violated their members’ belief in the “spirituality of the church.” Thanks to leadership by PCUSA minister Charles Stelzle, who led the denomination’s Department of Church and Labor, the FCC called on churches to fight for reasonable working hours, a weekly day of rest, a sabbath in the work week, and the rights of workers to organize. The PCUS finally joined the FCC for good after World War II, as its members came to see the importance of social ministries, and as the ecumenical organization was being reconstituted. The FCC became the National Council of Churches of Christ (NCCC) in 1950, and most of its interagency organizations for stewardship, mission, relief, radio, television, and home missions were merged under the NCCC umbrella. The PCUSA and the UPCNA along with the PCUS became leaders in setting the direction of the NCCC, and, as Erskine Clarke has pointed out, were “frequently the largest contributor on a per capita basis.”9

The “Modern” Ecumenical Movement Meanwhile, as communications and means of international travel improved at the turn of the twentieth century, American Presbyterians joined several global ecumenical endeavors. Arthur Judson Brown, who served from 1895 to 1929 as the secretary of the PCUSA Board of Foreign Missions, spearheaded the gathering of an Ecumenical Missionary Conference that met in New York City in 1900. He also helped plan the International Missionary Conference (IMC) at Edinburgh in 1910—an event which came to be termed “the birth of the modern ecumenical movement.”10 American Presbyterians already had begun thinking of missions globally, and the Missionary Review of the World, a periodical edited by Presbyterian Arthur Tappan Pierson, had spoken of evangelizing the world “in this generation.” At the IMC, church leaders from European, American, and other regions of the world told of the spread of the gospel in the previous century and sought ways of cooperating in future work. That Edinburgh Conference in 1910 established a “Continuation Committee,” chaired by Methodist layman John R. Mott, which Brown served on for almost two decades.

258   louis b. weeks The Edinburgh Conference, in deference to the Roman Catholic Church, did not permit Latin American Protestant denominations to participate, even though some newer Asian and African churches did. Dissenting American Presbyterians, under the leadership of Robert E. Speer, helped organize a conference in New York City, in 1913, devoted to examining the role of Latin American churches and a subsequent “Congress on Christian Work in Latin America.” From 1928, Latin American Protestants included in IMC events. The IMC also helped two movements to eventually join together as the World Council of Churches (WCC)—the Anglican-initiated Faith and Order movement to promote cooperation among all branches of Christendom, and the Life and Work movement begun by Nathan Soderblom, a Swedish archbishop. Major Presbyterian denominations belonged to both. The Faith and Order movement became a commission of the WCC. It sought to promote the unity of the church, developing common practices of ministry, sacraments, and organization of the church, and to foster dialogue to lower hostility among various parts of the church. The movement produced some dialogue among major branches of the global church. Fear of amalgamation and loss of identity inhibited mergers in the United States, but Presbyterians joined other Protestant strains in several countries to form union denominations such as the Nihin Kirisuto Kyodan, United Church of Christ in Japan, and the South India United Church (subsequently the Church of South India). The ambitious Consultation on Church Union (COCU, 1961) took place following the spirit of the Faith and Order movement. The COCU resulted from a proposal by UPCUSA pastor Eugene Carson Blake and Bishop James A. Pike of the Episcopal Church the year before to discuss a union of their denominations. The 1960 UPCUSA Assembly agreed to do so, as did the Episcopalians, the United Methodist Church, and the United Church of Christ. The PCUS became a member the next year, and eventually ten denominations belonged to the COCU. They agreed to allow members of all participating denominations to take communion in each other’s churches, recognize membership for transfers, and receive ministry from among the clergy of the member churches. Presbyterians balked at the acceptance of episcopacy when the proposal, “Churches in Covenant Communion,” was finally issued in 1988. The COCU dissolved in 2002 and a less ambitious agenda was begun that year under the title “Churches Uniting in Christ.” The Life and Work Movement held its first conference in 1925 in Stockholm, under the banner “Doctrine divides; service unites.” Participants had vastly different perspectives, and at its second conference, in Oxford in 1937, they sought “middle axioms,” goals broad enough for common agreement—such as deploring the rise of Nazism, stopping the persecution of Jews, and working to overcome racism and rampant militarism. American Presbyterians, most notably John Bennett, John Foster Dulles, Charles Taft, Henry Van Dusen, and John Mackay, played a significant leadership role. Both the Life and Work Conference in Oxford and the Faith and Order Conference in  Edinburgh later that year voted to establish a world council of churches to draw both movements together. But the impending war prohibited any worldwide gathering

presbyterian ecumenism   259 before 1948. Relief work occupied most of the churches in the meantime, especially through the formation of Church World Service soon after hostilities ceased in 1945. All three major American Presbyterian denominations supported the actions and the forming of the WCC. Among its leaders were Samuel McCrea Calvert, John McCracken, Charles Leber, and Ross Stevenson of the PCUSA; James Alexander of the UPCNA; and J. R. Cunningham of the PCUS.11 The WCC coordinated efforts with the various national ecumenical bodies, such as the NCCC in the United States, and the newly formed Council of the Evangelical Church in Germany. The growing support for the civil rights movement in the United States during the 1950s and 1960s was part of the ecumenical effort of both the NCCC and the WCC. Southern Presbyterians frequently objected to such projects as the NCCC’s Mississippi Delta Ministry. Some PCUS missionaries also resisted much of the WCC’s social agenda in the countries in which they were serving. The WCC joined other international bodies in pressuring South Africa to end apartheid, and many anticolonial liberation movements succeeded. WCC critiques of both capitalism and communism, many coming from Third World leaders, produced considerable controversy as well. Willem Adolph Visser t’Hooft, a Dutch Reformed theologian, was elected the first secretary general of the WCC. He continued in the post for two decades. One American Presbyterian especially contributed to ecumenical ministry during this period—Eugene Carson Blake. Blake served as president of the NCCC in the 1950s, helped create the COCU, and was general secretary of the WCC from 1966 until 1972. Blake and other Presbyterian leaders seized on the opening of doors for cooperation and dialogue afforded by the Roman Catholic Church in the early 1960s, when pronouncements of the Second Vatican Council were promulgated. Most notably, Catholic Relief Services and Church World Service collaborated to help refugees and the impoverished around the world whatever their race or religion. As the ecumenical movement flourished, the Alliance of Reformed Churches, founder in 1877, merged with the International Congregational Council to form a World Alliance of Reformed Churches (WARC). Two of the four presidents of the WARC were American Presbyterians: Jane Dempsey Douglass and Clifton Kirkpatrick. The other two were Allen Boesak of South Africa and Choan-Seng Song from Taiwan. The WARC merged with the more conservative Reformed Ecumenical Council in 2010 to become the World Communion of Reformed Churches (WCRC). As the WCC and the Reformed Alliances consumed the imaginations and energy of denominational leaders, many came to define “ecumenical” only in this narrow fashion— as something requiring ecclesiastical merger and global participation. John Mackay even wrote entitled a book Ecumenics: The Science of the Church Universal. This tendency by national Christian figures to overreach led to assumptions that Sunday school curricula must be “shared,” theological education must be in “consortia,” and the ecumenical life of Presbyterians trumped their distinctive tradition in communities of faith. Numerous forces strove to bring Christians together, but many of the same forces also pulled Christians apart.

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Centrifugal and Centripetal Forces at Work Although Presbyterian women have been participants and supporters of numerous endeavors throughout the history of ecumenical engagement, their contributions have drawn little attention. They cooperated frequently with women’s organizations of other denominations in supporting service and mission projects. Through the work of ­“circles,” “presbyterials,” “synodicals,” and “assemblies,” women in both the PCUS and the UPCUSA supported mission projects of newly emerging, independent churches in younger nations. The ordination of women to all offices, which occurred from the 1930s until the 1960s, enabled many females to serve as pastors, elders, and professors. Through these roles many women remained active in and provided resources for ­ecumenical activities. When the two denominations merged in 1983, becoming the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), they gained partial structural independence from the new PC(USA) as “Presbyterian Women.” They were still informally affiliated with Church Women United, a progressive coalition that supported controversial ministries, such as integration, early care for HIV patients, and victims of human trafficking. Some women, chiefly in the Southeast, however, considered CWU to be too radical and sought its demise. Groups that left the PCUSA in the nineteenth century sought to provide a deeper ecumenical life than the major Presbyterian denomination afforded. The Great Revival of the early 1800s, for example, produced the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (CPC). Intent on evangelism on the frontier, its members preferred the immediacy of ordination to the time-consuming educational apprenticeship expected by presbyteries. They wanted looser definitions of predestination, the “economy of salvation,” and open communion for all believers, stances that enhanced both revivals and cooperation with other denominations. Presbyterians Alexander Campbell and Barton Stone, who found the Westminster Standards repugnant in light of the Bible as they interpreted it, created the “Christian movement.” Their movement denied all creeds and sought to restore primitive New Testament Christianity. One offshoot of the Christian movement—the Disciples of Christ denomination—at first excoriated Protestant denominationalism and promised to speak only where the Bible spoke. At the outset of the twentieth century, however, the tide began to turn. Presbyterian denominations produced believers who wanted to protect Presbyterian distinctiveness against ecumenical dilution. They criticized the breadth and width of Presbyterian ecumenism. A Fundamentalist movement generated contention, especially in the PCUSA, as the denomination “loosened” the Westminster Standards, prompting many of the congregations of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church to rejoin the denomination in 1906. This perceived “softening” of the Westminster Standards contributed to a “fundamentalist” revolt. New respect for biological sciences and more critical methods of interpreting

presbyterian ecumenism   261 the Bible also helped prompt the PCUSA General Assembly to reduce Calvinism to five essential articles of faith in 1910, 1916, and 1923. Their opposition to the new directions in mission and their espousal of a propositional Calvinism termed the “Princeton Theology” led J. Gresham Machen and other conservative Presbyterians to establish the Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions in 1932 to maintain traditional relationships among missionaries and new churches. When Machen refused to sever ties with this independent mission board, the 1933 PCUSA General Assembly suspended him and some of his colleagues from ministry. Machen soon established a separate denomination, first called the Presbyterian Church in America and later the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. On the other hand, an ecumenical spirit among Presbyterians in the 1950s led to an attempt to unite the PCUSA, the UPCNA, and the PCUS. Both the PCUSA and the UPCNA affirmed the merger, and in 1958 and created the United Presbyterian Church in the USA (UPCUSA). The PCUS, however, failed to join as its conservative presbyteries voted no. Southern Presbyterians holding to the Princeton Theology and dissenting from the more liberal directions in the PCUS formed a “Continuing Church Movement” a few years later. The movement, especially strong in Alabama, Mississippi, and South Carolina, argued that social and political efforts to overturn Jim Crow laws were not church concerns. In addition, they objected to the ordination of women and to the ecumenical involvements of the PCUS and the PCUSA (after 1958, the UPCUSA). Particularly abhorrent was the Delta Ministry Project of the NCCC, which worked to register African Americans to vote and to empower them to improve their lives. To maintain Calvinist positions espoused by Old School Presbyterians, including the doctrine of an inerrant Scripture, the “spirituality of the Church,” ordaining only men to leadership as clergy and ruling elders, and a strong stance on predestination, the theological conservatives in the PCUS formed in 1973 the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). They soon merged with other conservative Presbyterian movements and small denominations: The Reformed Presbyterian Church-Evangelical Synod and the National Presbyterian Reformed Fellowship. More recently, the PCA has joined the World Evangelical Alliance (WEA) and the National Association of Evangelicals. By the 1980s. the departure of these congregations to the PCA permitted those remaining in the PCUS to approve overtures from the UPCUSA to form one nationwide Presbyterian denomination. This union took place in 1983 in Atlanta, forming the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), using the acronym PC(USA), which moved its headquarters to Louisville, Kentucky.

Grass-Roots Presbyterian Ecumenism It should be noted that seldom has the denominational affiliation of Presbyterian bodies around the world had a substantial effect on grass-roots Presbyterian ecumenism. Individual members and congregations of Presbyterians participate regularly

262   louis b. weeks in   ecumenical activities and organizations. Presbyterians participate in many large Christian organizations for relief, education, health, and evangelism labor throughout the world. Presbyterians support ministries for children, young people, young adults, and mature adults. In American small towns, planned communities, and inner cities, union churches formally include various denominational configurations. Presbyterians have helped found and lead many ministries in local and metropolitan areas. And the worship and work of many Presbyterian congregations has become deeply ecumenical, in part because of the rampant “switching” that now characterizes religious life in America. Merely listing all the Christian organizations to which Presbyterians contribute would demand an entire book. Roberta Hestenes, for example, served as the president of World Vision, which has enabled hundreds of Presbyterian congregations and thousands of members to sponsor children and support projects to help the poor. The same goes for Child Fund International, founded by Presbyterian missionary J. Cavitt Clarke in 1938 and soon named the Christian Children’s Fund, to care for orphans and poor children in China, Korea, and elsewhere. Yasuhiko Takatu, chair of Childfund Japan, an affiliate of the Christian Children’s Fund, is a Methodist by heritage, but as a leader in the Kyodan, he is also Presbyterian. Many Presbyterians have also participated in Save the Children, Heifer Project International, Red Cross, Habitat for Humanity, and many other large relief and development efforts. Although Presbyterian denominations have their own youth and college ministries, Young Life, Campus Crusade for Christ, Youth for Christ, and Youth Specialties, which are all ecumenical in mission, also have Presbyterian roots and branches. Jim Rayburn, a Presbyterian minister in Texas, started Young Life in 1941, and now it serves youth in more than a dozen countries. Bill Bright, a Presbyterian minister, founded Campus Crusade for Christ (now CRU) a decade later. Presbyterians have served on the boards of other major nondenominational ministries. Many Presbyterian young people have accepted Jesus as their savior through the work of these ecumenical organizations. The PC(USA) reports that more than three hundred of its local congregations are “Union” churches that belong to another denomination as well. Some alternate in the selection of ministers between two or more traditions, and most are deeply ecumenical in their work and worship. Most exist in small towns, typically ones in agricultural communities with declining populations. But numerous planned communities also include union churches as part of their infrastructure. Some, in Ohio and Kentucky, for example, thrive as both Methodist and Presbyterian, or as both Episcopalian and Presbyterian. Denominational mergers and ecumenical organizations seem to have had much less effect on most Presbyterians than their personal mobility within the Christian family. Decades ago, scholars and church leaders discerned that only a minority of members knew much about the PC(USA) and its global, national, or even regional connections. A majority of Presbyterians, when they think about “church,” picture primarily their own congregations.12 Presumably, this applies to members of other Presbyterian denominations as well. In fact, by some accounts, most Presbyterians have belonged to another part of the Christian family at some previous time in their lives. They bring a great variety of

presbyterian ecumenism   263 expectations, needs, and gifts for service.13 Furthermore, some even come from other faiths—Buddhism, Islam, Judaism, Hinduism, and “new age” religions. Presbyterian worship focuses on the reading of the Bible, prayer, singing, and preaching. Today, worship in Presbyterian congregations varies widely, though most PC(USA) congregations follow rubrics in the Book of Common Worship. For several years the PC(USA) General Assemblies and the staff of the Mission Agency have been advocating the forming of new “worshiping communities,” groups seldom forming regular congregations but meeting for worship and work. Rethinking the nature of “membership” certainly encourages ecumenical involvement. Today, Presbyterian ecumenical life is pervasive. One can readily perceive the force of Robert McAfee Brown’s aphorism: “I am a Presbyterian—therefore I am ecumenical.”14

Notes 1. Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, “Faith in Flux,” Pew Research Center, April 2009, http://www.pewforum.org/2009/04/27/faith-in-flux/; Pew Forum on Religion and Public Life, “U.S. Public Becoming Less Religious,” Pew Research Center, November 2015, http:// www.pewforum.org/2015/11/03/u-s-public-becoming-less-religious/. 2. John 13:35; Eph. 4:5; Acts 2:42; I Cor. 11:26, 10:17. 3. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 4.1. 8, also 4.1. 4. Westminster Confession of Faith, 6.142. 5. Louis B. Weeks, “Notes on the First Presbyterians in North America,” Presbyterian Historical Society, November 13, 2015, http://www.history.pcusa.org/blog/2015/11/notes-firstpresbyterians-american-colonies. 6. Louis B. Weeks, Kentucky Presbyterians (Atlanta, GA: John Knox, 1983), 37–42. 7. Ruth Rouse and Stephen C. Neill, eds., A History of the Ecumenical Movement, 1517–1948, 2nd ed. (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967), 329. 8. Don Herbert Yoder, “Christian Unity in Nineteenth Century America,” in Rouse and Neill, History of the Ecumenical Movement, 252–255. 9. Erskine Clarke, “Presbyterian Ecumenical Activity in the United States,” in The Diversity of Discipleship: The Presbyterians and Twentieth-Century Christian Witness, ed. Milton J Coalter, John M. Mulder, and Louis B. Weeks (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1991), 150–169, quotation on 156. 10. Theodore A. Gill Jr., “American Presbyterians in the Global Ecumenical Movement,” in Coalter, Mulder, and Weeks, Diversity of Discipleship, 130. 11. Gill, “American Presbyterians,” 141. 12. Milton J Coalter, John  M.  Mulder, and Louis  B.  Weeks, eds., The Reforming Tradition: Presbyterians and Mainstream Protestantism (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1992), 113. 13. Pew Forum, “Faith in Flux”; Wade C. Roof, Spiritual Marketplace: Baby Boomers and the Remaking of American Religion (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999); and Robert Wuthnow, America and the Challenges of Religious Diversity (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005). 14. Robert McAfee Brown, “I Am a Presbyterian—Therefore I Am Ecumenical,” Presbyterian Survey, vol. 77, no. 7, September 1987, 12–15.

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Bibliography Briggs, John, Mercy Oduyoye, and George Tsetsis. A History of the Ecumenical Movement: Vol. 3, 1968–2000. Geneva, Switzerland: World Council of Churches, 2004. Brown, Robert McAfee. “I Am a Presbyterian—Therefore I Am Ecumenical.” Presbyterian Survey, vol. 77, no. 7, September 1987, 12–15. Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960. Clarke, Erskine. “Presbyterian Ecumenical Activity in the United States.” In The Diversity of Discipleship: The Presbyterians and Twentieth-Century Christian Witness, edited by Milton J  Coalter, John  M.  Mulder, and Louis  B.  Weeks, 150–169. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1991. Coalter, Milton J, John  M.  Mulder, and Louis  B.  Weeks, eds. The Reforming Tradition: Presbyterians and Mainstream Protestantism. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1992. Fitzmier, John R., and Randall Balmer. “A Poultice for the Bite of the Cobra: The Hocking Report and Presbyterian Missions in the Middle Decades of the Twentieth Century.” In Coalter, Mulder, and Weeks, Diversity of Discipleship, 105–120. Gill, Theodore  A., Jr. “American Presbyterians in the Global Ecumenical Movement.” In Coalter, Mulder, and Weeks, Diversity of Discipleship, 126–148. Roof, Wade C. Spiritual Marketplace: Baby Boomers and the Remaking of American Religion. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999. Rouse, Ruth, and Stephen  C.  Neill, eds. A History of the Ecumenical Movement, 1517–1948, 2nd ed. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1967. Weeks, Louis B. Kentucky Presbyterians. Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1983. Wuthnow, Robert. America and the Challenges of Religious Diversity. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2005.

chapter 16

Wom en ’s Or di nation Margaret Bendroth

Introduction Presbyterians approved women’s ordination in simple, undramatic fashion. In 1956, the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) voted to add a single sentence to its Form of Government, chapter IV, section 1, “Of Bishops or Pastors, and Associate Pastors”: “Both men and women may be called to this office.”1 The floor did not erupt in controversy, nor did anyone envision drastic change. In fact, one of the measure’s strongest opponents, a Houston pastor, admitted that women’s ordination was at best a fringe issue and insisted it would have limited impact. He predicted at most “a potential fifteen or twenty women ministers by the year 1970.” The Christian Century agreed. Presbyterians were “not likely to be subjected to any sudden onslaught of lady applicants.”2 Margaret Towner, the first woman to be ordained in the PCUSA, in October 1956, was similarly low key. She had pursued ordination to further her work as the director of Christian education in her Allentown, Pennsylvania, church, after graduating from New York’s Union Seminary in 1953 with a bachelor of divinity. “Only by taking the same courses as a future pastor,” said Towner, “would I receive adequate training as a Christian educator.” Members of her congregation were similarly unconcerned. “No one has seemed disturbed about the change in Miss Towner’s status,” Presbyterian Life reported. “She has received hearty congratulations from everyone, including the session, all of whom are men.”3 In the following years, these reassurances proved both true and false. Contrary to expectations, by 1970, seventy-six women had been ordained in Presbyterian churches; by 1975, the number had increased to 189. Over the next ten years, the number of women in Presbyterian pulpits grew by 310 percent; by 2000, 17 percent of the denomination’s clergy were female. Yet the revolution is far from finished. The ministry still lags behind other professions such as medicine and law, where the proportion of women is close to one-third. Moreover, many female pastors are underemployed, in part-time or secondary positions.4

266   margaret bendroth Among Presbyterians worldwide the picture is similarly inconclusive. Some major church bodies ordain women, including the Presbyterian Church of South Africa (1955), the Presbyterian Church in the United Kingdom (1956), the Church of Scotland (1966), and the Presbyterian Church of the Republic of Korea (1974). Many others, however, do not or, like the Presbyterian Church in Australia, have reversed previous decisions allowing female clergy. A 2009 survey conducted by the World Communion of Reformed Churches, a body consisting of 233 Protestant denominations in more than a hundred countries, found that though the majority supported women’s ordination, a substantial minority—thirty-seven—did not: seven in Europe, eighteen in Africa, seven in the Middle East, and nine in Latin American and Asia.5 Why has change been so complicated? Debates about scriptural prohibitions against women in leadership—and there have been many—are not the entire story. The 1956 ruling is best understood as the culmination of a long and uncertain process, one that speaks volumes about the politics of gender in Presbyterian denominations and in American Protestantism more generally. The story is not so much one of straightforward march toward progress as it is a gradual journey, fraught with unintended consequences, counterintuitive outcomes, and, at times, heroic achievement.

Nineteenth-Century Fits and Starts Defining women’s role in the church was as difficult for Presbyterians in the nineteenth century as it would become in the twentieth. For many years, the only specific guidelines came from a few carefully worded sentences in a Pastoral Letter issued by the General Assembly in 1832. “Meetings of pious women by themselves, for conversation and prayer” were entirely acceptable, but teaching, preaching, and praying in “public and promiscuous assemblies”—that is, with men present—were “clearly forbidden” by the “inspired prohibitions of the great apostle to the Gentiles [Paul],” in I Corinthians 14:34–35 and I Timothy 2:12–15.6 Context is everything, however. This brief statement on women’s role—a Pastoral Letter rather than a ruling with institutional heft—was a single paragraph within a long list of concerns about a more general problem, “undue excitement” and “indecorum” in religious revivals. In 1837 the issue split Presbyterians into two factions, with one, the New School, celebrating revivals as a gift of the Holy Spirit, and the other, the Old School, emphasizing their potential for disorder and abuse. The “woman question” was one issue in a much larger dispute about church order, though a particularly knotty one. Just five years before the Pastoral Letter was issued, in 1827, Presbyterians had engaged in a series of contentious debates with evangelist Charles Finney over his “new measures,” innovative techniques for producing religious enthusiasm. Among all the issues debated, only one defied consensus, Finney’s practice of allowing women to pray and speak in his revival meetings. Presbyterians, like all the older established Protestant denominations, were in a difficult bind. Long used to well-educated clergy and stable community ties, they struggled to

women’s ordination   267 keep up with newer, less established groups as the nation moved west—Methodists and Baptists especially—torn between their desire for growth and their native conservative bent. No issue defined those alternatives more starkly than the role of women. While seminary-trained Presbyterian clergy exegeted Pauline texts to determine the limits of feminine involvement in the church, more entrepreneurial Protestants followed a more pragmatic path, sending out female preachers and evangelists without formally ordaining them. The one Presbyterian exception was the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, an ardently pro-revival frontier denomination formed in 1810 over disagreements about theology and the education requirements for ministers. The Cumberland churches employed female evangelists and were the first Presbyterians to formally ordain a woman, Louisa Layman Woosley, in 1889.7 The other pressure on the 1832 Pastoral Letter came from within Presbyterian churches themselves. Barred from participating in “promiscuous assemblies,” women turned to forming their own societies, and over the course of the nineteenth century proved themselves to be remarkably successful organizers and fundraisers. The Women’s Executive Committee, formed in 1877, helped to fund schools and teachers in the American West. Five regional groups spearheaded foreign missionary fundraising, aligning under a Central Committee in 1885. By 1920, when PCUSA women consolidated into a single board, they had formed 6,554 local organizations and were raising some $3,000,000 annually; during the previous half-century they had raised nearly $45,000,000.8 Southern Presbyterian women were the sole exception among Protestant churches. During the late nineteenth century the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS) regularly opposed all forms of female leadership, including of a centralized missionary organization. According to a statement by the General Assembly in 1897, teaching, exhorting, or even leading in public prayer was “clearly forbidden” by the Word of God. Women could gather to raise money under the supervision of church sessions and presbyteries, but anything beyond that was, as one critic warned, a “dangerous infidelity” undermining the “whole volume of Scripture.”9 For their part, northern Presbyterians were far from settled on the “woman question,” as shown by two public controversies in the 1870s. In 1872, Theodore Cuyler, pastor of the Lafayette Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, New York, invited Sarah Smiley, a Quaker minister, into his pulpit. The Brooklyn presbytery issued a rebuke and asked the General Assembly to adopt clear rules about female preachers. But the response was tepid: the General Assembly only referred the presbytery to the guidelines in the Pastoral Letter of 1832, which grew harder and harder to define with the passage of time. Smiley returned to Cuyler’s church two years later, this time speaking from a platform erected in front of the pulpit.10 Two years later, representatives of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union spoke from the pulpit of Newark, New Jersey, pastor I. M. See. Elijah Craven, a neighboring pastor, went to the Newark Presbytery and charged See with disobedience to the Bible’s proscriptions against women speaking. The Presbytery ruled against See, but Craven did not win a clear victory. Though See’s behavior was pronounced “irregular and unwise,” he was not guilty of “conscious and willful disobedience against a divine ordinance.” The biblical proof texts were simply too ambiguous to support a ruling;

268   margaret bendroth different interpretations of the passages on women, the Presbytery said, “may be honestly held.” When See appealed his case to the New Jersey Synod and the General Assembly, he did not receive satisfaction either. Denominational officials refused to come down on either side of the biblical question, and cautiously commended women’s efforts in missions and temperance reform.11 One way for Protestant churches to give women an official role without raising difficult questions about the Bible was to reinstitute the New Testament office of deaconess. This position had clear scriptural warrant—the apostle Paul had encouraged support for Phoebe, a “deacon” of the church in Rome—and a long record of acceptance among biblically conservative Protestants. Lutheran pastors began employing deaconesses in the 1830s and 1840s, and after the Civil War, deaconess orders and training schools began to flourish among other denominations, particularly Episcopalians and Methodists. Though the role had limited appeal to most American Protestant women—deaconesses typically wore distinctive dress and committed themselves to lives of quiet and obedient service—it was still an official church post. Unlike female lay preachers, missionaries, and temperance workers, most deaconesses were formally commissioned by their denominations. PCUSA leaders jumped at an opportunity for compromise. As Princeton theologian Alexander McGill wrote, allowing women to serve as deaconesses would not only encourage their “great errand of benevolence” but also relieve “the embarrassments we have had” caused by women “preaching in Presbyterian churches.12 Nevertheless, the denomination proceeded cautiously. In 1889, the General Assembly set up a study committee headed by another Princeton theologian, B. B. Warfield, to examine the relevant biblical and historical precedents. Though the committee reported favorably on ordaining deaconesses, they advised restraint, urging the “least possible legislation on the subject” from the General Assembly. Accordingly, the Assembly voted only to encourage local churches to appoint “godly and competent women” in tasks that “may properly come within their sphere.” Other Presbyterian bodies followed the PCUSA example, with the United Presbyterian Church in North America (UPCNA) approving the office of deaconess in 1906 and Cumberland Presbyterians in 1921.13

Twentieth-Century Tensions The most eventful era in the long history of Presbyterian deliberations over women’s ordination was the 1920s. To a degree, the new round of discussion was prompted by rapid visible changes in women’s status, from newly forming lines at voting booths to the rising hemlines of the sexually liberated flapper. Secular social pressures were not the precipitating factor, however. The formal process that would eventually result in equal access to the pulpit began first as bureaucratic battles, in conflicts over money and power that brought to the surface long-standing grievances among Presbyterian women over their secondary status.

women’s ordination   269 In 1919, the PCUSA General Assembly received overtures from three presbyteries supporting women’s right to be ordained as ministers and to serve as ruling elders. The overtures were not a response to any outcry as much as a request for clarity, considering that with the United States’ entry into World War I, more women were serving as lay preachers. Still, the threat of debilitating controversy was real. Northern Presbyterians had only to look at the divisive effect of even fairly mild debates in the General Assembly of the PCUS. In 1915, a committee of five was appointed to study women’s role and ended up issuing four separate reports, and though each called for some form of liberalizing church policy short of ordination, the reports set off prolonged and “colorful” debate. The General Assembly rejected all four reports and reaffirmed its previous prohibition on women preaching or being ordained as ministers or elders. Yet even that step enraged conservatives. The ruling left open the possibility of women speaking in “mixed” gatherings, including the General Assembly. But even that change proved to be long in coming. It would take another decade of confusion and controversy before the PCUS cautiously allowed Hallie Winsborough, president of the Women’s Auxiliary, to read her report to the General Assembly in person. Moving carefully, in 1929 the PCUSA General Assembly conducted a survey of representative male and female church members and sent letters of inquiry to seven other Protestant denominations. The researchers found relatively little passionate opposition— 60 percent of the clergymen in the Presbyterian survey group favored ordination, and a similar majority of the women—but they also discovered that Presbyterians lagged significantly behind most of their Protestant peers. Nearly all of the other denominations surveyed allowed women to be deacons and, in some cases, elders.14 But passionate support for the overtures was missing as well. Even representatives of women’s organizations were equivocal about ordaining female elders. Blanche DickensLewis, president of the Ohio Synod’s women’s home missionary organization, spoke for many when she declared that “there is no desire to fill this sacred office, which we feel is still ‘man’s special task and responsibility.”15 The tranquility did not last. Within a few years, women in the PCUSA were in open rebellion, and the ordination question was hotly debated in the denomination’s newspapers. The precipitating factor was a plan, announced by church officials in 1923, to merge the women’s missionary societies into the male-dominated denominational boards. The Presbyterian situation was not unique—Baptist, Methodist, and Congregationalist women’s societies underwent similarly painful realignments in the 1920s, all in the name of increased efficiency. Presbyterian women were particularly aggrieved, however, because they had no official representation in the General Assembly and no say in this decision. “It comes as a distinct and disappointing shock,” an Illinois woman wrote in 1922, “that after so many years of faithful cooperation in the upbuilding of the organization to the point of its great efficiency, it should be ’swallowed whole’ without even Fletcherizing,” referring to a popular stomach laxative. Even worse, the new arrangement was permanently unfair: women would have only one-third representation on the reconstituted board, and, as a result, would lose control over the money they had raised and the schools and hospitals they administered.16

270   margaret bendroth Again, hoping to avoid controversy, the General Assembly appointed Margaret Hodge and Katherine Bennett, respective presidents of the women’s home and foreign missionary societies, to research “The Causes of Unrest among the Women of the Church.” Their report, issued in 1927, was formidable, a searching critique of the “autocratic control” men exercised over women in Presbyterian churches. Though women were over 60 percent of the membership, they “had no status beyond [participating in] a congregational meeting in [their] local church,” Hodge and Bennett wrote. Their report mentioned women’s ordination, but only in passing, as one piece of a much larger system of inequities. What women desired, Hodge and Bennett declared, was “the removal of inhibitions” constantly reminding them that they were “not considered intellectually or spiritually equal” to men. Women wanted to be treated “in the light of [their] ability and not of [their] sex.”17 Ambiguities persisted, however. Churchwomen wanted equality, but at the same time they did not want to relinquish their separate base of power, however limited. “There are going to be necessary separate women’s organizations for a long time to come,” a laywoman declared in a meeting with men from the General Council. Presbyterian women “have not been concerned with their ecclesiastical status,” Katherine Bennett wrote; but “they have been anxious as to the future of … the organizations which they have formed and fostered.”18 For obvious practical reasons, Presbyterian leaders did not want to encourage a “separate but equal” role for women—denominational budgets were at stake—but some, like Robert Speer, ecumenist and leader in Presbyterian foreign missions, genuinely believed in gender equality. “The only differences inside Christianity,” he insisted, “are differences of ability and capacity. There is no . . . sex differentiation” in the body of Christ.19 Undeterred by the lack of consensus among denominational leaders about women’s role, in 1929 the General Assembly issued overtures allowing women to be ordained as pastors or ruling elders or licensed as local evangelists. Advocates of the measure admitted that it had more to do with the uproar over the women’s missionary boards than the principle of gender equality. “The overtures were a gesture of courtesy,” Clement McAfee, the moderator of the General Assembly, explained. They were not a “yielding to the clamor of the women nor an acceptance of their demand,” he said, for “there is no such clamor, no such demand.”20 Although the first overture failed to permit women to serve as ordained pastors, the second and third overtures allowing them to be ruling elders and licensed as local evangelists passed—but they had little positive impact. In fact, bureaucratic infighting only intensified in the early years of the Great Depression as denominational agencies competed for access to the money the women had raised. During the 1920s, women’s issues paled in comparison to the battles fought between Presbyterian liberals and conservatives over the “fundamentals” of the Christian faith. The dispute defied efforts at compromise; in 1936, a small conservative faction left to form the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. The so-called fundamentalist-modernist controversy also introduced the politics of gender into the question of women’s ordination. “The spiritual women who believe in the Virgin Birth of Jesus Christ,” said leading fundamentalist Seattle pastor Mark Matthews, “his vicarious death and atonement, his

women’s ordination   271 supernatural resurrection, ascension and mediatorial work are not asking to be lifted out of their God-decreed positions and placed on sessions or in pulpits.” The core issue for conservatives was biblical authority—their conviction that the Bible was fully inspired by God and therefore without error of any kind. More than that, however, conservatives saw women’s ordination as a symptom of grave disorder, “one manifestation of a worldwide movement . . . of revolt against historical Christianity.” The effort to impose an “ecclesiastical feminarchy” was, in the words of one opponent, an attack on scripture and on a long Presbyterian tradition teaching the subordination of women.21 These charges by conservatives resonated oddly among Presbyterian women and Protestant laywomen more generally. Many of them recognized the liabilities and the implications of their majority status in the pews. A report issued by the Federal Council of Churches in 1940 reported that many laywomen themselves were concerned that the churches were overly “feminized.” Some, in fact, had “refused official positions in order that they might be filled by men.” Many feared, the author of an exhaustive interdenominational study noted in 1948, that women might “take so much responsibility for church affairs that men will lose all interest.”22 The most significant push toward equality and toward the PCUSA’s General Assembly’s 1956 ruling permitting women’s ordination as pastors came from outside Presbyterian denominations and, in fact, outside the United States. The first discussions on women’s ordination after the 1929 overtures came in 1946, in disputes over a visit from a Japanese female pastor, Tamaki Uemura. The first Japanese civilian to visit the United States after World War II, Uemura had been ordained by the Church of Christ in Japan. A national Presbyterian woman’s organization invited her to participate in a worship service and to serve the Lord’s Supper, an important symbol of forgiveness and reconciliation—and a role open only to clergy whose ordination the PCUSA recognized. All these objections became moot when Uemura was unable to participate in the worship service because of illness, but the conversation was clearly shifting. No longer just a problem requiring a pragmatic solution, or a life-and-death challenge to biblical orthodoxy, women’s role in the church was becoming a matter of simple fairness.23 In the 1940s and 1950s, the conversation about women’s ordination reflected the spirit of cooperation and the language of human rights, as it was articulated by the ecumenical movement. At its first meeting in 1948, the World Council of Churches (WCC) addressed gender inequality, commissioning a major study, “The Life and Work of Women in the Church.” British author Kathleen Bliss compiled reports from nearly fifty countries, providing a stunning overview of women’s inferior status in Christianity worldwide. American women saw, many for the first time, the full extent of male domination, but also the energy and optimism of women in developing nations who were enjoying greater access to education and professional careers. The church clearly suffered in comparison. “Why should Christian minister,” Bliss asked, be “almost the only profession barred to women on the grounds of their sex?”24 The 1950s and early 1960s, often stereotyped as a socially conservative era, saw some of the most significant and lasting changes in women’s role in Presbyterian churches. When the PCUSA passed its ruling in 1956, the PCUS was also undertaking serious

272   margaret bendroth study and debate, and though a set of overtures on women elders and deacons went down to defeat in 1957, determined opposition was fading. In 1964 the PCUS voted to approve women’s ordination and the following year the Presbytery of Hanover in Virginia ordained Rachel Henderlite, a Yale doctor of philosophy with a prestigious academic career and an international reputation in religious education.25 The story does not end there, though. Since the 1960s, women’s ordination has achieved immense symbolic importance. No longer simply a pragmatic question or a biblical one, it has become an indicator of social liberalism, linked to a growing list of controversies around abortion and sexuality. “Resistance to women’s ordination,” sociologist Mark Chaves argues, “is part of a deeper struggle against the liberal modernity that is symbolized by full gender equality.”26 Indeed, during the past fifty years, the controversy over female clergy has intensified, especially among conservative evangelicals. The Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) originated in 1973 as a reaction to a proposed merger between the PCUS and the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (produced by the 1958 merger of the PCUSA and the United Presbyterian Church of North America) by a dissenting group who opposed women’s ordination as fundamentally unbiblical. The denomination has maintained that stance. In 2009, the PCA General Assembly refused to even appoint a study committee to examine women’s roles in the church. The PCA did approve women deacons in 2011, but with the proviso that they are not eligible for any official church role.27 Yet however slow or contested, changes in women’s role have moved forward steadily. In fact, the larger context to conservative opposition is a sweeping transformation in attitudes about gender roles in mainline churches and American religious bodies generally. Between 1986 and 2006, support for female clergy increased by 15 to 20 percent in every religious tradition. By 2006, majorities of mainline Protestants, evangelicals, Jews, and Roman Catholics favored ordaining women. “In this sense,” sociologists Robert Putnam and David Campbell conclude, “most Americans today are religious feminists.”28 A shift in beliefs that many people now take for granted has not come easily, however. The story of women’s ordination in Presbyterian communions is long and circuitous, certainly not a simple and triumphant path toward equality. Nor is it a one-dimensional contest between villains and victors, a battle between masculine conservatives and women with their eyes fixed on the single prize of ordination. It is, rather, a testimony to the loyalty and persistence of many women and men over two hundred years of incremental, often difficult—and ongoing—change.

Notes 1. The text of the overture from the Rochester Presbytery and the committee report are in Minutes of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, part I. Journal and Supplement (Philadelphia: Office of the General Assembly 1955), 95–98. 2. John  D.  Craig, “Should Women Be Ordained to the Ministry? No.” Presbyterian Life, November 26, 1955, 36; and “Breakthrough for the Woman Minister,” Christian Century, January 23, 1957, 100.

women’s ordination   273 3. “Presbyterian Church U.S.A. Ordains First Woman Minister,” Presbyterian Life, October 27, 1956, 18. 4. Elizabeth Howell Verdesi, In but Still Out: Women in the Church (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1976), 25–26; Catherine Wessinger, ed., Religious Institutions and Women’s Leadership: New Roles Inside the Mainstream (Columbia: University of South Carolina Press, 1996), 347–397; Mark Chaves, American Religion: Contemporary Trends (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2011), 74–75; and Robert Putnam and David Campbell, American Grace: How Religion Divides and Unites Us (New York: Simon and Schuster, 2010), 242–243. 5. Laurence Villoz, “The WCRC Considers a Call for Its Members to Accept the Ordination of Women,” July 1, 2017, accessed December 27, 2017, http://wcrc.ch/news/the-wcrc-­ considers-a-call-for-its-members-to-accept-the-ordination-of-women, World Communion of Reformed Churches. 6. Minutes of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, from A.D.  1821 to A.D.  1837 Inclusive (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, n.d.), 377–379. 7. Lois A. Boyd and R. Douglas Brackenridge, Presbyterian Women in America: Two Centuries of a Quest for Status (Westport, CT: Greenwood, 1983), 114–116. 8. Boyd and Brackenridge, Presbyterian Women, 56–57; Margaret Hodge and Katherine Bennett, Causes of Unrest among the Women of the Church: A Report of Special Committee to the General Council of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. (Philadelphia: General Council of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., 1927), 10. 9. Boyd and Brackenridge, Presbyterian Women, 216–224; and William M. Cox, “The Social and Civic Status of Woman,” Presbyterian Quarterly 9 (1895): 602. 10. “Has a Woman a Right to Preach?,” New York Times, December 28, 1876. 11. Lois  A.  Boyd, “Shall Women Speak? Confrontation in the Church, 1876,” Journal of Presbyterian History 56 (1978): 281–294. 12. Alexander McGill, “Deaconesses,” Presbyterian Review 1 (1880): 283, 287. 13. Minutes of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States (New York, 1890), 119–121. 14. Katherine Bennett, Status of Women in the Presbyterian Church in the USA, with Reference to Other Denominations (Philadelphia, 1929), 4. 15. Blanche Dickens-Lewis, “The Ordination of Women,” Presbyterian, October 7, 1920, 10. 16. Mrs. Max (Nellie) Aszmann to Lucy H. Dawson, August 10, 1922, Presbyterian Historical Society, Philadelphia, PA. 17. Hodge and Bennett, Causes of Unrest, 10, 11, 27. 18. Bennett, Status of Women, 14. 19. “Conference of the General Council with Fifteen Representative Women, November 22, 1928,” 10, 17, 32. Presbyterian Historical Society, Philadelphia, PA. 20. Clement McAfee, “Women and Official Church Life,” Presbyterian Banner, January 16, 1930, 32. 21. Mark Matthews, “Why Women in the Pulpit,” Presbyterian, January 16, 1930, 6; and Finley D. Jenkins, “The Self-Destruction of the Movement to License and Ordain Women,” Presbyterian, March 27, 1930, 8, 27. 22. “Women’s Status in Protestant Churches,” Information Service, November 16, 1940, 3; and Inez Cavert, Women in American Church Life: A Study Prepared under the Guidance of a Counseling Committee of Women Representing National Interdenominational Agencies (New York: Friendship Press, 1948), 10, 18. 23. Boyd and Brackenridge, Presbyterian Women, 144–145.

274   margaret bendroth 24. Kathleen Bliss, The Service and Status of Women in the Churches (London: SCM Press, 1952), 133. 25. On southern Presbyterians see Boyd and Brackenridge, Presbyterian Women, 207–224. 26. Mark Chaves, Ordaining Women: Culture and Conflict in Religious Organizations (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997), 83. 27. Sarah Eekhoff Zylstra, “PCA Goes Back to Where It Started: Women’s Ordination,” Christianity Today, June 28, 2016. 28. Putnam and Campbell, American Grace, 242–246.

Bibliography Bliss, Kathleen. The Service and Status of Women in the Churches. London: SCM Press, 1952. Boyd, Lois A., and R. Douglas Brackenridge. Presbyterian Women in America: Two Centuries of a Quest for Status. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 1983. Brereton, Virginia. “United and Slighted: Women as Subordinated Insiders,” In Between the Times: The Travail of the Protestant Establishment in America, 1900–1960, edited by William R. Hutchison, 143–167. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1989. Cavert, Inez. Women in American Church Life: A Study Prepared under the Guidance of a Counseling Committee of Women Representing National Interdenominational Agencies. New York: Friendship Press, 1948. Chaves, Mark. Ordaining Women: Culture and Conflict in Religious Organizations. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997. Hodge, Margaret, and Kathleen Bennett. Causes of Unrest among the Women of the Church: A  Report of Special Committee to the General Council of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. Philadelphia: General Council of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., 1927. Verdesi, Elizabeth Howell. In but Still Out: Women in the Church. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1976. Zikmund, Barbara Brown, Adair Lummis, and Patricia M. Y. Chang. Clergywomen: An Uphill Calling. Louisville, KY: John Knox Westminster Press, 1998.

chapter 17

Pr esby ter i a ns, Schisms, a n d Denomi nations P. C. Kemeny

Introduction From the inception of the Presbyterian Church in the British Isles in the sixteenth ­century, Presbyterians have confessed a strong commitment to the unity of the church. Among the creeds Presbyterians affirm, the Nicene and Chalcedonian Creeds confess belief in “one holy catholic and apostolic church.” The most influential Presbyterian confession, the Westminster Confession of Faith, builds upon this affirmation. It declares that the “catholic or universal church” is both “invisible” and “visible.” The invisible church “consists of the whole number of the elect, that have been, are, or shall be gathered into one, under Christ the Head thereof; and is the spouse, the body, the fulness of Him that fills all in all.” In contrast, the “visible Church, which is also catholic or universal under the Gospel (not confined to one nation), consists of all those throughout the world that profess the true religion.”1 To Presbyterians, this commitment to church unity rests upon New Testament teachings. Most notably, in John 17, Jesus prays that believers “may become perfectly one so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me.”2 When they are ordained, for example, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), or PC(USA), ministers and elders vow “to further the peace, unity, and purity of the church.” Presbyterian theology and confessions, in short, provide a rich warrant for preserving the unity of the church. Nevertheless, Presbyterians have experienced numerous schisms. The World Christian Database identifies 466 different Presbyterian denominations in 156 countries. Many of the denominations in each country are the result of schisms. With thirty-nine different Presbyterian denominations, South Korea has the highest number of Presbyterian bodies.

276   p. c. kemeny The United States is the second largest at twenty-one.3 Throughout their history, schisms have frequently divided Presbyterians. Theological controversies have always played a central role in Presbyterian schisms. Yet such divisions have never been based solely upon theological differences. Class, ethnic, gender, racial, and regional differences, as well as personal conflicts, have also contributed to these schisms. Four representative church schisms, drawn from different time periods and various places, illustrate this point.

The Disruption of 1843 in the Church of Scotland Scotland, the birthplace of Presbyterianism, has witnessed several church schisms. As the established church, the Church of Scotland enjoyed not only legal recognition as the nation’s official church but also the state’s financial support. The Disruption of 1843 is both Scottish Presbyterians’ most significant and most divisive schism. It resulted in the departure of more than one-third of the ministers of the Church of Scotland and an estimated half of its members. Its immediate cause was a debate over lay patronage, but the deeper cause was a theological conflict over the relationship between the church and the state. Social status and class also played a role. In certain regions of Scotland, the Moderates who supported lay patronage and the supremacy of the state over the church and the Evangelicals who opposed both patronage and state supremacy over the church, fell out along class lines as Moderates sided with the elites and Evangelicals with the middle and lower classes. Patronage first emerged in the parish system in twelfth-century Scotland. Patronage gave the heritor, or patron, the right to select the parish’s minister and present him to the church. Following the presentation, the male heads of the families in the parish signed the minister’s “call.” Virtually all of Scotland’s parishes had patrons, approximately onethird of which were owned by the crown and the remaining two-thirds by the landed aristocracy and the gentry.4 The practice of patronage had long produced controversy in Scotland. Presbyterians’ First Book of Discipline, in 1560, abolished patronage. Despite providing reassurances in the Act of Union in 1707 that it would not interfere in the affairs of the Church of Scotland, the British Parliament restored the practice in the Patronage Act of 1712.5 In the two decades preceding the Disruption of 1843, harbingers of change appeared in both Scotland’s political life and within the established church. In 1828, Parliament repealed the Test and Corporation Acts, which effectively ended discrimination against religious minorities by giving them the same civil and political rights that members of  the established church enjoyed. The next year, Parliament passed the Catholic Emancipation Act, which granted English Catholics not only the right to vote in parliamentary elections but also to sit in Parliament and to hold various other public offices. The Reform Act of 1832 eliminated proprietary parliamentary seats, enlarged Parliament,

presbyterians, schisms, and denominations   277 and extended the franchise to some members of the growing middle class. As a result of these political developments, the established church now had critics, both Protestant dissenters and Catholics, inside Parliament.6 At the same time, the Evangelical party gained ascendency over Moderates within the Church of Scotland. Although both Moderates and Evangelicals subscribed to the Westminster Confession of Faith, the two parties had distinctly different emphases. Born in the Enlightenment, the Moderate party advocated a broad-minded and nondoctrinaire form of Christianity that sought to improve the manners and morals of society and at the same time preserve the long-standing hierarchical social order.7 In contrast, the Evangelical party promoted emotional preaching designed to elicit a conversion experience, advocated Calvinist orthodoxy, urged pastors to actively engage in local parish ministry, and practiced strict Christian discipline.8 After the Evangelical party gained control of the church’s General Assembly in the early 1830s, patronage produced bitter controversy. The events of the Ten Years’ Conflict leading up to the schism centered on patronage and raised foundational questions about the relationship between the church and the state. To ensure that a patron could not intrude a ministerial candidate upon a church without the congregation’s approval, Evangelicals passed the Veto Act in 1834 to empower male heads of the families in a parish to veto candidates whom they disliked. Evangelicals wanted ministers who preached evangelistic and Calvinist sermons and were committed to parish ministry. The Veto Act, however, threatened both the social status and livelihood of Moderate ministers, especially those who held academic positions and viewed their parishes as a source of income that required little work. The Veto Act also challenged the state’s supremacy over the church. Between 1834 and 1838, patrons presented 150 candidates and parishes vetoed only ten of them. Two of these vetoes, however, precipitated the crisis that directly led to the Disruption. The first involved a probationary minister who was rejected by a vote of 286 to 2. The rejected candidate appealed the decision to the Court of Session, which in 1838 declared the Veto Act invalid. It asserted that “Parliament is temporal head of the Church” and that the Church of Scotland existed from its acts alone and from these acts “derives all its powers.”9 The Evangelical-dominated General Assembly, countered that the denomination had the authority to sanction the Veto Act. The next year, the House of Lords declared the Veto Act illegal because, its members reasoned, church courts were subordinate to civil courts. In the second case, a candidate rejected by a parish successfully sued the presbytery for damages and the Court of Session fined members of the local presbytery and threatened to imprison them if they failed to acknowledge the authority of civil law over the church in future cases.10 These decisions produced a clear division in the denomination. Moderates favored the establishment position recently sanctioned by the Court of Session and House of Lords, and most Evangelicals supported the nonintrusion position. According to the Evangelical party leader Thomas Chalmers, the history of the Church of Scotland, especially as expressed in its Second Book of Discipline, taught the doctrine of the two kingdoms in which the church and state occupied independent provinces. Therefore, Evangelicals argued, the state had no ground to intrude into the spiritual affairs of the church.11

278   p. c. kemeny Evangelical efforts to persuade Parliament to recognize the spiritual independence of the church, however, were rejected by English Whigs, who viewed Parliament as the protector of civil and religious liberties. In 1842, the Church of Scotland adopted the Claim of Right, which advanced Evangelicals’ nonintrusion position, but Parliament rejected it.12 Following several rebuffs, 474 out of 1,195 clerics and an estimated half of the members withdrew from the established church and founded the Free Church of Scotland, in May 1843. Although Chalmers and other Evangelicals rejected state supremacy over the church, they wanted the Free Church to serve as a national church, and they quickly built a national organization to facilitate this. Within four years, the church had constructed 730 places of worship and organized a parochial school system with 513 teachers serving over 44,000 children.13 The division between Moderates and Evangelicals largely occurred along class lines. In the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the grand estates in the northern highlands had abandoned farming for the more profitable business of sheep herding. During these Highland Clearances, the landed elites forced tenant farmers off land they had worked for generations, sometimes even burning down their family homes. Moderate ministers typically sanctioned the Clearances, while Evangelicals often opposed them. In the Highland, consequently, the Disruption involved more than just a theological dispute. It included a class conflict between the landlords and sheep farmers and the lower classes, who had suffered dire economic consequences because of the Clearances. The Disruption reopened these deep-seated hostilities.14 In the urban lowlands, the Free Church appealed to the socially mobile middle and skilled artisan classes who saw the Church of Scotland as controlled by the elites and other members of the middle class. In the rural and urban lowlands, however, the Church of Scotland attracted support from not only the elites but also the poor. Whereas the Free Church of Scotland demanded pew rents from even those who were the most impoverished, the Church of Scotland offered the poor a free place to worship. To Scottish elites, the Free Church did more than just fracture the established church; it was democratic impulse that endangered their social status because it enabled the majority of the male members of a congregation to reject their selection of a parish minister. Elites also considered the Free Church movement to be a threat to social order because its proponents challenged the existing laws.15 In the Disruption of 1843, the theological debate over the independence of the church was inseparably intertwined with deep-seated social antagonisms. As the state took over responsibility for various areas of social life that had been previously controlled by the church, such as poor-relief, the Disruption signaled the demise of the religious establishment in Scotland.16 The Church Patronage Act of 1874 ended patronage, provided congregations with the right to elect their own ministers, and empowered church courts to adjudicate religious disputes. In 1893, there was the Second Disruption in the Free Church, in response to the toleration of theological laxity or liberalism. It produced the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland.17 In 1929, a majority of the Free Church of Scotland reunited with the Church of Scotland. The reunion occurred, however, only after the church’s spiritual independence had been affirmed.18

presbyterians, schisms, and denominations   279

The Old School–New School Schism in the United States In America, the Presbyterian Church has also experienced several major schisms, each of which also involved theological controversy. The schism between the PCUSA’s Old School and New School, which lasted from 1837 to 1869, illustrates how different theological tendencies, views of church polity, and disagreements over public policy (in this case slavery) produced church division. The origins of the Old School–New School schism began in the 1801 Plan of Union between Presbyterians and Congregationalists. Both denominations shared Reformed theological commitments. Presbyterians and Congregationalists also enjoyed close relations. When Presbyterians organized their first presbytery in Philadelphia in 1706, for example, they included several ministers from Congregational churches. Both denominations, moreover, often sent representatives to the other’s annual meetings, and their representatives had voting rights in these proceedings.19 Growing cooperation between the two denominations had led to the Plan of Union in 1801. According to this arrangement, Congregationalist churches became part of local presbyteries but they were allowed to maintain their congregationalist form of church government. As settlers moved into upstate New York and the Ohio frontier, hundreds of Presbyterian churches were founded in cooperation with Congregationalists. The two denominations also participated together in a wide variety of voluntary associations, such as the American Bible Society and the American Home Missionary Society, to spread Protestant Christianity throughout the nation.20 As the partnership grew in the early nineteenth century, important theological developments began to push the two denominations in different directions. Yale Divinity School theologian Nathaniel William Taylor, for instance, seemed to be harboring the ancient heresy of Pelagianism when he suggested that people had not only the natural ability but also the moral ability to avoid sin. A growing number of Presbyterians objected that Taylor was denying the doctrines of total depravity, the imputation of Adam’s sin to his descendants, and Christ’s vicarious substitutionary atonement.21 As theological disagreement between Presbyterians and Congregationalists grew stronger, deep fissures within the Presbyterian Church appeared, as two factions emerged. Old School Presbyterians favored traditional confessional orthodoxy, whereas New School Presbyterians were more receptive to new trends in practice and in theology, reflecting the influence of Taylor and other progressive Congregationalist theologians. In 1830, conservative or Old School Presbyterians in a New Jersey presbytery convicted New School Presbyterian minister Albert Barnes of departing from the Westminster Confession. When the General Assembly overturned the conviction after Barnes’s appeal, Old School Presbyterians concluded that New School ministers had not only departed from Reformed orthodoxy but that the denomination tolerated it. Differences over the propriety of revivals, which thrived during the Second Great Awakening of the early

280   p. c. kemeny nineteenth century, also raised tensions between the factions. New School Presbyterian evangelist Charles Finney was the most controversial figure. He employed new tactics, such as high-pressure protracted meetings and having women pray publicly, and preached that individuals held their eternal destiny in their own hands. Finney’s theological innovations paralleled major changes that were reordering antebellum American culture at large, most notably, a revolt against elites. This “democratization” of the American mind prompted ordinary people to take responsibility for their own lives instead of relying on traditional authority. Meanwhile, people were moving away from producing goods for their own needs and instead producing goods for the marketplace, which nurtured an individualism that bolstered this trend toward democratization. Finney’s Arminian theology, which embodied this market revolution, greatly alarmed Old School Presbyterians. Because interdenominational voluntary associations operated independently of the jurisdiction of the church, Old School Presbyterians also began questioning their church’s support of them. Meanwhile, they stressed both close adherence to the traditional Reformed doctrines embodied in the Westminster Confession and deference to traditional authorities.22 Alongside these theological disagreements between Old and New School Presbyterians stood the issue of slavery. Earlier in the century, Presbyterians had condemned the institution of slavery. In 1818, the Presbyterian General Assembly denounced slavery as a “gross violation of the most precious and sacred rights of human nature” and demanded its complete abolition.23 Although many Presbyterians had actively supported transporting freed slaves to Liberia in the 1820s, the emergence in the 1830s of the radical abolitionist movement led by William Lloyd Garrison further fractured the denomination. In 1836 and 1837, presbyteries dominated by the New School passed resolutions requiring the church to discipline slaveholding members. These criticisms prompted southern Presbyterians to move decisively into the Old School Presbyterian camp, whose members generally supported gradual emancipation. According to historian James Moorhead, “Abolition—and the violence unleashed against it—testified in the most graphic ways to Americans’ fear that the old landmarks of order had fallen.” Although the divisions between Presbyterians over theology and polity antedated the explosive debate over slavery, the antagonisms between Old and New School Presbyterians were essentially the same ones dividing radical abolitionists from their opponents.24 The growing conflicts over theology, polity, and slavery soon led to schism. The 1836 General Assembly again reversed a local presbytery’s conviction of Albert Barnes for not adhering to the Westminster Confession. The General Assembly also decided to engage in foreign missions through a nondenominational missionary society instead of the PCUSA’s own agency. Old School Presbyterians objected that these actions were inconsistent with traditional Presbyterian theology and polity. Meeting before the 1837 General Assembly, Old School Presbyterians outlined their grievances against the New School in a “Testimony and Memorial” and called for repealing the Plan of Union of 1801, which it blamed for these problems. With the 1837 General Assembly firmly controlled by an Old School majority, delegates retroactively abrogated the Plan of Union and removed congregations that had been established under the plan. In all, Old School Presbyterians

presbyterians, schisms, and denominations   281 excised twenty-eight New School presbyteries, 509 ministers, and sixty thousand church members. When the General Assembly met the next year, it refused to recognize New School delegates, who withdrew to hold their own meeting, effectively dividing the PCUSA.25 The Civil War further divided Presbyterians. After the 1861 Old School General Assembly passed a resolution declaring the PCUSA’s loyalty to the federal government, southern presbyteries dissolved their relationship with the denomination and founded the Presbyterian Church in the Confederate States of America. The New School likewise divided along geographic lines at the outset of the war. What had been one denomination in 1837 had become four, divided along theological and geographical lines. During the war, New School southerners united with the Old School Presbyterian Church in the South. In 1869, despite the misgivings of some Old School Presbyterian theologians, the northern New School and Old School churches reunited.26 In the next two centuries, Presbyterians would again divide into different denominations because of conflicts over theology, the role of women in the church, and issues related to human sexuality.

The Independent Presbyterian Church of Brazil Presbyterian missionaries arrived in Brazil in 1859, and within a generation, Brazilian Presbyterians had established the Synod of the Presbyterian Church of Brazil. In 1903, schism racked the Brazilian church when nearly one-third of the ministers and congregations left to establish the Independent Presbyterian Church of Brazil. Like the schisms in the Church of Scotland in 1843 and the PCUSA in 1837, this one was based on serious theological disagreements. The central doctrinal conflict was whether Presbyterians could be Free Masons. In 1903, a majority in the Synod of the Presbyterian Church of Brazil concluded that one could be a faithful Christian and also a Free Mason. Led by Eduardo Carlos Pereira, a minority of Presbyterians disagreed and left to establish their own denomination. As with the other schisms, this church split involved more than just theological issues. The role of American missionaries, the independence of the Brazilian Presbyterian Church, the purpose of church-sponsored education, and deep personal antagonism were also woven throughout the fabric of the debate. Huguenots had settled in Brazil in 1555, and Dutch Calvinists attempted to plant a colony there in 1630. The Huguenots survived just three years, and the Dutch were expelled in 1654. Reformed Protestantism gained a permanent foothold in Brazil when the PCUSA sent Ashbel Green Simonton there as a missionary in 1859. After the American Civil War, missionaries from the Presbyterian Church of the United States (PCUS) began working in Brazil. By 1888, they had established fifty-nine congregations and four presbyteries. That year, the Brazilian church was formally organized as a synod that was independent of American missionary boards. But Presbyterian missionaries remained members of

282   p. c. kemeny local Brazilian presbyteries, and Brazilian pastors had no direct role in the operations of the American missions board.27 At first, competing visions of education complicated the efforts of Brazilian pastors to function independently of American oversight. When American Presbyterians financed the construction of Mackenzie College, a liberal arts college based on the American model of higher education, in São Paulo in 1891, it exacerbated this problem. To train a generation of qualified leaders for Brazil’s growing economy and to exert a Christian influence on society, Mackenzie College adopted a policy of accepting all qualified students. Some protested that this inclusive policy would dilute the evangelical character of the school and ultimately undermine efforts to prepare the next generation of church leaders.28 In the 1890s, tensions between the American missionaries and Brazilian pastors grew. Personal antagonism between Eduardo Carlos Pereira, pastor of the Presbyterian Church in São Paulo, and Horace Lane, an American missionary who served as the president of Mackenzie College and was a member of Pereira’s church, heightened the conflict. In 1892, the church formally censored Lane for his failure to attend Sunday worship services regularly. Pereira demonstrated such an autocratic leadership style that even his friends occasionally called him “the Presbyterian Pope” in jest. Until this point, the conflict between American missionaries and Brazilian pastors was over whether education or evangelism should receive more attention. After Presbyterian missionaries, including Lane, helped to organize the Second Presbyterian Church in São Paulo, the conflict involved the personal rivalry between Pereira and Lane.29 In 1892, Pereira and several other pastors proposed a “Plan of Action” to gain complete control over the Presbyterian Church of Brazil. It called for American Presbyterian missionaries to withdraw from the synod and for the denomination to establish a theological seminary in São Paulo. Pereira and others complained that the old-fashioned apprenticeship method of training pastors took too long. More importantly, they wanted to establish a seminary that would be independent from the PCUSA missionaries. Following the establishment of the synod in 1888, Brazilian Presbyterians had expected the missionary schools Colegio Internacional and Escola Americana to be turned over to the synod. But that did not happen. The PCUSA Board of Foreign Missions in New York as well as certain missionaries, notably Horace M. Lane and William A. Waddell, in Brazil refused to cooperate with any proposed seminary that was not connected with Mackenzie College. To Pereira and the other Brazilian pastors, the Americans’ actions indicated that their denomination was not independent from the American mission’s board. Without support of the Board of Missions, Pereira and his allies opened Novo Friburgo Seminary in 1892, near Rio de Janeiro. When the seminary moved to São Paulo in 1895, it directly challenged the mission of Mackenzie College. To reduce the influence of the American church and Mackenzie College, five American missionaries, led by John Rockwell Smith, proposed that all donations coming from the United States be funneled through the auspices of the Brazilian synod. The synod approved this proposal in 1897. In response, however, the Presbyterian Board began sending money directly to Mackenzie College. That same year, Pereira proposed opening a preparatory department at the seminary, but American missionaries rejected the idea because it directly threatened enrollment at Mackenzie College. Pereira resigned in frustration as a professor at the seminary the

presbyterians, schisms, and denominations   283 following year, and the fracture between Pereira and his allies and the American ­missionaries and their Brazilians co-laborers grew.30 In 1902, Pereira published a platform that demanded total autonomy for the Presbyterian Church of Brazil and declared Free Masonry to be incompatible with the Christian faith, an issue that had recently been deepening the tensions within the Brazilian Presbyterian church. After a member of Pereira’s church published several articles supporting his pastor’s position in the leading Presbyterian periodical in Brazil, opponents of Free Masonry appealed the question of whether one could be a Christian and a Mason, first to the Presbytery of São Paulo in 1899 and then to the synod in 1900. Both the presbytery and synod determined that an individual had the liberty to be a Mason if his or her conscience allowed it. In his 1902 Platform, Pereira made a compelling theological argument that the beliefs of Free Masonry were utterly incompatible with orthodox Christianity and that permitting freedom of conscience opened the door to other heresies. Although Pereira had theology on his side, those who supported the position that church members could also be Masons had history on their side. The Masonic Order had played a prominent part in the Brazilians’ campaign to win independence from Portugal in the early nineteenth century, actively supported the movement to grant religious toleration to Protestants in the Constitution of 1824, campaigned for establishing the Republic of Brazil in 1889, and defended the new constitution that separated church and state and guaranteed religious liberty to non-Catholics. Considering the crucial role of Free Masons in the fight for religious liberty, Free Masonry enjoyed widespread support among Protestants in the late nineteenth century.31 The conflict over the role of American missionaries, the direction of theological education, the personal antagonism between Pereira and Lane, and the debate over Free Masonry all contributed to church schism. At the 1903 synod, Pereira presented his platform, but the synod refused to reconsider its 1900 decision regarding Masonry. Pereira and his supporters left the meeting, reportedly shouting, “Away with the Americans!” Approximately one-third of the members of the denomination followed Pereira and established the Independent Presbyterian Church of Brazil. Ironically, in 1907, Presbyterian missionaries proposed a plan that largely achieved what Pereira had envisioned. According to the so-called Brazil Plan, Presbyterian missionaries withdrew from local Brazilian presbyteries and concentrated instead on evangelism and planting churches that would join a local presbytery. In conjunction with this plan, American missionaries thereafter largely functioned as a parachurch organization, and the Brazil Presbyterian Church gained complete authority over all the denomination’s activities.32

Presbyterian Church in Korea (Kosin) In 1952, the Presbyterian Church in Korea experienced the first in a long series of schisms. This one also involved significant theological disagreements. By mid-twentiethcentury standards, the Presbyterian Church of Korea was predominantly theologically conservative. The denomination, however, also had sizeable groups of both theologically

284   p. c. kemeny progressive liberals and militantly conservative fundamentalists. A theological debate between fundamentalists and liberals precipitated the schism. Fundamentalists complained that leading liberals had departed from the Westminster Confession of Faith. Liberals countered that conservatives were still wedded to an outdated dogmatism. The 1952 schism in Korea also involved a debate over whether church leaders who had participated in the mandatory Shinto shrine worship during the Japanese occupation should be disciplined by the church. Fundamentalist Presbyterians had resisted participation, but many liberal Presbyterians had not. Consequently, the fault line that produced the schism of 1952 involved both theological and political issues. Moreover, it occurred at a  time when conflict between the Soviet Union and the People’s Republic of China and the United States had grown into a war that soon divided the Korean peninsula into two countries. Although Roman Catholic missionaries came to the Hermit Kingdom in the late eighteenth century, Presbyterians established the first permanent Christian foothold in Korea in the late nineteenth century. Two events opened the door to Western missionaries. In 1882, Korea signed a treaty that permitted American citizens to enter Korea legally.33 Two years later, Presbyterian missionary Horace Allen arrived in Korea to serve as a physician to the United States Legation. After successfully treating a high-ranking government official wounded during a failed palace coup, Allen established a personal relationship with the powerful Min family that gave other missionaries a bridgehead to follow. Over the next decade, the PCUSA, PCUS, Canadian Presbyterian Church, and Australian Presbyterian Church began sending missionaries to Korea. In 1912, the four missions partnered to establish the Korean Presbyterian Church.34 Following the Russo-Japanese War, Korea became a protectorate of Japan in 1904. Six years later, Japan annexed Korea as a colony. During the Japanese occupation, the church was widely viewed as a source of nationalism. Christians actively participated in efforts to resist the occupation. In the March First 1919 Independence Movement, for instance, fifteen of the thirty-three signers of the Korean Declaration of Independence were Christians. To suppress Christian dissent against occupational rule, the Japanese governor-general ordered all Koreans to revere the emperor and to participate regularly in Shinto shrine worship. In the nineteenth century, Shintoism had become a religious and political ideology that the Japanese government used to dominate its own citizens.35 While Roman Catholic and Methodist leaders viewed the Shinto attending the shrine services as a political, not religious, exercise, conservative Presbyterians, who were especially strong in Pyongyang and other parts of northern Korea, denounced obeisance as  idolatrous.36 The Japanese colonial government increasingly exerted pressure on Presbyterians to perform shrine worship as a patriotic act. Eventually, seventeen of twenty-three presbyteries complied. When the General Assembly met in Pyungyang in 1938, police accompanied the delegates into the meeting and another hundred officers stood guard around the auditorium to crush any protests. The assembly passed a motion resolving “that obeisance at shrines is not a religious act” and “should be performed as a matter of first importance thus maintaining the patriotic zeal of the Imperial subjects.” The moderator counted only the affirmative votes and did not ask for dissenting votes.

presbyterians, schisms, and denominations   285 Although the theologically liberal Presbyterians complied with the decision, the conservatives resisted and closed their mission schools to avoid mandatory participation in the shrine services.37 Some fifty pastors and an estimated three thousand laypeople were imprisoned by the Japanese for their opposition to the shrine services.38 Immediately after Korea was liberated from Japanese rule in 1945, divisions emerged in the Presbyterian Church. Several prominent Presbyterian pastors who had survived prison called for the “cleansing repentance,” as one statement put it, of pastors and elders who had voluntarily or under compulsion participated in Shinto shrine worship.39 Those who had complied rejected the proposal. Hong Taek-Ki, who moderated the 1938 General Assembly meeting that had approved shrine worship, wrote that “the suffering of those in prison and those who had been serving church had been the same” and that serving the church instead of hiding was “commendable.” “The matter of repentance or discipline for shrine worship,” he added, should “be worked out directly with God by each individual.”40 Fundamentalist Presbyterians demanded that church leaders who had participated in Shinto shrine worship publicly repent; the theologically liberal Presbyterians deemed repentance unnecessary. The liberal Presbyterian theologian Kim Chai-Choon, for instance, denounced fundamentalists’ refusal to engage in shrine worship as a manifestation of “pharisaical legalism.”41 The same lines of division emerged in the debate around establishing Koryo Theological Seminary (now Korea Theological Seminary) in Pusan in 1946. Conservative Presbyterians wanted to establish an alternative to Chosen Theological Seminary, which had been founded in Seoul during the war after the closing of the Pyungyang Theological Seminary. One of Chosen’s most prominent theologians, Kim Chai-Choon, not only denounced the dogmatism of Presbyterian fundamentalism but also advocated using higher critical methods to study the Bible. Led by Sang Gon Han, the fundamentalists established Koryo Theological Seminary to carry on the Pyungyang Seminary’s commitment to the Westminster Confession of Faith, biblical inerrancy, and opposition to  “modernism and Barthianism.”42 Moreover, the fundamentalists wanted Koryo to operate independently from the General Assembly because, as one apologist later wrote, “liberals and shrine worshippers” controlled the Presbyterian Church of Korea.43 Following liberation from Japan, the founders of Koryo Seminary aligned themselves with American fundamentalist Presbyterian Carl McIntire and his International Council of Christian Churches (ICCC) and employed American missionaries from the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) and the Bible Presbyterian Church (BPC) as professors. Since PCUSA and OPC missionaries were intimately involved in the wrangling over the Koryo Seminary, the schism of 1952 was in many ways an extension of the American Presbyterian Church schism that produced the OPC in 1936 and the schism between the OPC and BPC in 1937. Because of its association with McIntire and the ICCC and the OPC missionaries, the General Assembly of the Korea Presbyterian Church twice refused to approve the Koryo Seminary as one that candidates for the ministry could attend.44 While war raged on the Korean Peninsula between 1950 and 1953, conflict divided the Presbyterian Church. In 1951, the Kyungnam Presbytery approved some representatives to the General Assembly

286   p. c. kemeny who were not supporters of Koryo Seminary. In response, the Koryo Seminary’s ­supporters organized their own presbytery and, in 1952, separated from the Presbyterian Church of Korea. The newly formed Presbyterian Church in Korea (Kosin) had some 350 churches and about two hundred thousand members.45 The 1952 schism was the first in a long series of church divisions. In 1954, defenders of Kim Chai-Choon and the liberal Chosen Theological Seminary formed their own denomination, the Presbyterian Church in the Republic of Korea (PROK), after the conservatives who had stayed in the Presbyterian Church of Korea moved to suspend him from the ministry, threatened to discipline those who supported him, and recommended that the congregations should not employ graduates from Chosen Seminary. Five years later, an even more traumatic schism produced the Presbyterian Church in Korea (Tonghap) and the Presbyterian Church in Korea (Hapdong). This schism centered around whether the church should associate with the World Council of Churches or the National Association of Evangelicals. Like the 1952 division, this one involved both theology and politics. Conservatives alleged that the World Council of Churches was pro-communist since it admitted members from Communist countries. With the repressive communist regime of Kim Il-sung controlling North Korea, these political accusations were particularly poignant in the South. In the 1959 schism, the Tonghap church favored the World Council of Churches, while the Hapdong church favored the National Association of Evangelicals.46 These divisions, however, did not end schisms. In fact, they proliferated during the next generation.

Conclusion In addition to these numerous schisms, several Presbyterian communions have resisted efforts to merge with other denominations. They have persisted as distinctive denominations even as most of their fellow church members joined union churches. The Presbyterian Church in Canada is a telling example. In 1904, the Methodist, Presbyterian, and Congregational Churches in Canada began discussing joining together to form a new church, the United Church of Canada. That union took place in 1925, but a sizeable minority of the Presbyterian denomination was reluctant to join, citing theological reasons. The ecumenical spirit that animated church union, they argued, would force them to compromise on fundamental questions of orthodoxy. Geographical and practical realities also contributed to their resistance. The union movement was popular in rural areas where church attendance was declining because it enabled dwindling congregations to pool their resources to survive. But in urban areas, especially in Ontario, where large congregations enjoyed thriving ministries, union offered fewer benefits since because these churches did not need to collaborate to compete for members in their increasing diverse and secular culture. For these various other reasons, more than 1,100 congregations and preaching stations and more than 150,000 members remained in the Presbyterian Church in Canada.47

presbyterians, schisms, and denominations   287 Although Presbyterians have always professed a commitment to the unity of the church, they have often participated in church schisms. Presbyterian leaders subscribe to the historic creeds of Christianity and the numerous Presbyterian confessions and take doctrine seriously. Different interpretations of the meaning and relevance of these theological statements have led to serious disagreements that have produced divisions. Yet the acrimonious theological controversies that caused schism have always taken place in a context in which other critical factors—cultural, political, and social—also justified schism as the only theologically proper course of action. Some schisms have pitted theological conservatives against theological liberals (and those with more moderate positions), as was the case in the Old School–New School schism and in the formation of the Presbyterian Church in Korea (Kosin). But not all schisms have followed a conservativeliberal line as manifested in the creation of the Free Church of Scotland and the Independent Presbyterian Church of Brazil. Debates over issues involving class, nationalism, politics, and race, however, have also played a critical role.

Notes 1. Westminster Confession of Faith, 25.1–2. 2. John 17:23. 3. Todd M. Johnson and Gina A. Zurlo, eds., World Christian Database (Boston and Leiden: Brill), https://www.worldchristiandatabase.org/, accessed September 2016. The World Christian Database figure for the number of Presbyterian denominations in Korea may be low. In 1996, Hee-Mo Yim identified forty-three Presbyterian denominations in Korea. Three years later, Jean-Jaques Bauswein and Lukas Vischer listed ninety-six distinct Presbyterian denominations. Hee-Mo Yim, Unity Lost—Unity to Be Regained in Korean Presbyterianism: A History of Divisions in Korean Presbyterianism and the Role of the Means of Grace (Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1996), xv–xvi; and Jean-Jacques Bauswein and Lukas Vischer, eds., The Reformed Family Worldwide: A Survey of Reformed Churches, Theological Schools, and International Organizations (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1999), 294–334. 4. Stewart J. Brown, “The Ten Years’ Conflict and the Disruption of 1843,” Scotland in the Age of the Disruption, ed. Stewart J. Brown and Michael Fry (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1993), 5–6. 5. Brown, “Ten Years’ Conflict,” 6. 6. Brown, 2. 7. A. L. Drummond and J. Bulloch, The Church in Victorian Scotland, 1843–1874 (Edinburgh: St. Andrew Press, 1975), 1, quoted in James Lachlan MacLeod, The Second Disruption: The  Free Church in Victorian Scotland and the Origins of the Free Presbyterian Church (East Lothian, Scotland: Tuckwell Press, 2000), 2. 8. Brown, “Ten Years’ Conflict,” 4–5; and Stewart J. Brown, Thomas Chalmers and the Godly Commonwealth in Scotland (New York: Oxford University Press, 1982), 44–45. 9. Charles Robertson, ed., Report of the Auchterarder Case (Edinburgh: Adam and Charles Black, 1838), 10, quoted in Michael Fry, “The Disruption and the Union,” Scotland in the Age of the Disruption, ed. Stewart  J.  Brown and Michael Fry (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1993), 39.

288   p. c. kemeny 10. Brown, “Ten Years’ Conflict,” 10–12. 11. Brown, 12–16. 12. Brown, 17–19. 13. Brown, 19, 21, 22–23. 14. Donald C. Smith, Passive Obedience and Prophetic Protest: Social Criticism in the Scottish Church, 1830–1945 (New York: Peter Lang, 1987), 140; Brown, “Ten Years’ Conflict,” 22; and Alexander B. Mearns, “The Minister and the Bailiff: A Study of Presbyterian Clergy in the Northern Highlands during the Clearances,” Scottish Church History Society Records 24 (1990): 62–64. 15. P.  L.  M.  Hillis, “The Sociology of the Disruption,” in Brown and Fry, Scotland, 47, 50, 54–55, 58. 16. Brown, “Ten Years’ Conflict,” 24. 17. MacLeod, Second Disruption, 1. 18. Brown, “Ten Years’ Conflict,” 25. 19. James H. Moorhead, Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2012), 119–120. 20. Moorhead, Princeton Seminary, 120–122. 21. Moorhead, 122–125. 22. Moorhead, 126–129; and Bradley  J.  Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2013), 93–95. 23. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 87–88. 24. Longfield, 94–95; and James  H.  Moorhead, “The ‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism”: Old School Fears and the Schism of 1837,” Journal of Presbyterian History 78 (2000): 25. 25. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 91; Moorhead, Princeton Seminary, 129–131. 26. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 91; Moorhead, “‘Restless Spirit of Radicalism,” 32. 27. Paul E. Pierson, A Younger Church in Search of Maturity: Presbyterianism in Brazil from 1910 to 1959 (San Antonio, TX: Trinity University Press, 1974), 1; Frank L. Arnold, “From Sending Church to Partner Church: The Brazil Experience,” Journal of Presbyterian History 81 (2003): 178; and Serron Kay George, “Presbyterian Seeds Bear Fruit in Brazil as Doors to Partnerships Open and Close,” Missiology: An International Review 34 (2006): 138. 28. Robert  L.  McIntire, Portrait of Half a Century: Fifty Years of Presbyterianism in Brazil (Cuernavaca, Mexico: Centro Intercultural de Documentación, 1969), 8/37; and Pierson, Younger Church, 33–35. 29. McIntire, Portrait, 9/13, 8/31. 30. McIntire, 9/1–9/3, 8/55–58/56, 9/16, 9/20, 9/18; Pierson, Younger Church, 35–38. 31. McIntire, Portrait, 9/24, 3/–3/13, 6/9–6/14; Duncan Reily, Historia Documental do Protestantismo no Brasil (São Paulo, Brazil: ASTE, 1984), 2.2.2.2; and Pierson, Younger Church, 35–39. 32. McIntire, Portrait, 9/24, 9/29; Arnold, “From Sending Church,” 180–181; and Pierson, Younger Church, 39, 74–86. 33. Yim, Unity Lost, 9, 11. 34. Chung-Shin Park, Protestantism and Politics in Korea (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003), 17–23. 35. Yim, Unity Lost, 55. 36. Donald  N.  Clark, Christianity in Modern Korea (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1986), 8–13.

presbyterians, schisms, and denominations   289 37. Yim, Unity Lost, 60–69, quotation on 65–66. 38. Sung C. Chun, Schism and Unity in the Protestant Churches of Korea (Seoul: Christian Literature Society of Korea, 1979), 342. 39. Yang-Sun Kim, Ten Years of the Korean Church since the Liberation [in Korean] (Seoul: n.p., 1956), 45, quoted in Yim, Unity Lost, 73. 40. Kim, Ten Years of the Korean Church, 45, quoted in S.  R.  Hur, The Church Preserved through Fires: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Korea (Pella, IA: Inheritance, 2006), 109; and Yim, Unity Lost, 74. 41. Kim Chai-Choon, Kim Chai-Choon’s Complete Works (Seoul: n.p., 1971), 256, quoted in Yim, Unity Lost, 68–69. 42. Yim, Unity Lost, 78–80, quotation on 79. 43. Hur, Church Preserved Through Fires, 119. 44. Hur, 119. 45. Sebastian  C.  H.  Kim and Kirsteen Kim, A History of Korean Christianity (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 197; Yim, Unity Lost, 78–83; Chun, Schism and Unity, 258; and Park, Protestantism and Politics in Korea, 69–74. 46. Kim and Kim, History of Korean Christianity, 197–199; and Park, Protestantism and Politics in Korea, 93–96, 102–111, 80–84. 47. N.  Keith Clifford, The Resistance to Church Union in Canada, 1904–1939 (Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 1985).

Bibliography Brown, Stewart  J., and Michael Fry, eds. Scotland in the Age of the Disruption. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1993. Clark, Donald N. Christianity in Modern Korea. Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1986. Kim, Sebastian C. H., and Kirsteen Kim. A History of Korean Christianity. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Longfield, Bradley J. Presbyterians and American Culture: A History. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2013. MacLeod, James Lachlan. The Second Disruption: The Free Church in Victorian Scotland and the Origins of the Free Presbyterian Church. East Lothian, Scotland: Tuckwell Press, 2000. McIntire, Robert  L. Portrait of Half a Century: Fifty Years of Presbyterianism in Brazil. Cuernavaca, Mexico: Centro Intercultural de Documentación, 1969. Moorhead, James H. Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2012. Park, Chung-Shin. Protestantism and Politics in Korea. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003. Pierson, Paul E. A Younger Church in Search of Maturity: Presbyterianism in Brazil from 1910 to 1959. San Antonio, TX: Trinity University Press, 1974. Yim, Hee-Mo. Unity Lost—Unity to Be Regained in Korean Presbyterianism: A History of Divisions in Korean Presbyterianism and the Role of the Means of Grace. Frankfurt: Peter Lang, 1996.

pa rt i i I

T H E OL O GY

Chapter 18

The Doctr i n e of G od Ivor J. Davidson

Introduction If Presbyterian faith has been classically defined by anything, it is its confession that there is one true God, the almighty creator, sustainer, ruler, and judge of all things; that God is triune, personal, sovereign, eternal, holy, majestic, the only source of creaturely salvation; and that God alone is to be worshipped and served. In so saying, Presbyterian belief has reflected historic Christian emphasis on divine incomparability. According to that conviction, God is eternally self-existent and self-sustaining, infinite in personal plenitude, in no need of the world to be, or to be fulfilled. That God should give life to creatures, should care for and order their ways, and redeem them from the consequences of their self-ruinous choices, is a matter entirely of wonder. Such is the mystery of the divine self-movement, the mercy in which the infinite goodness, freedom, and capacity of the eternal One have been pleased to take temporal form. Presbyterians have in general been keen to press the point: in the relationship of creatures to God, all the debts run in one direction.

A Reformed Inheritance Presbyterianism represents one strand of the Reformed tradition as it emerged in ­ sixteenth-century Europe. At its roots, the belief of churches “reformed according to the Word of God” aspired to no creativity in thinking about God. It repudiated any such impulse. Divinity was no matter for speculation; God was self-defining, approachable only in consequence of a condescension that had set its own terms: “You shall have no other gods besides me” (Exod. 20:3). The God of the Reformed was Israel’s lord, holy and jealous, the Living One, whose self-presentation made exclusive claims. Graven images were evil in obvious form; conceptual idolatry was subtler temptation, to which

294   ivor j. davidson faith itself was not immune. Free projection had no place; too much theology had appeared to forget it. The Reformed did not propose a new doctrine of God. They called upon the church to heed what God had said about God. Faith’s sole authority was God’s self-disclosure, a matter wholly gracious, and sovereignly tailored to its recipients. Divine revelation was the infinite’s accommodation to the finite, ectype for rational creatures of an archetype that remained unfathomable: the complete and immediate self-understanding of their creator. Awareness of God’s reality, its existence and fundamental features, could be had in creation and providence, but a primary force of that knowledge was to render humans culpable for their rejection of its source, and their perverse preference for false deities. Saving knowledge came in the gospel of Jesus Christ, set forth in Holy Scripture. There, the estranged, the confused, and the guilty heard that God not only formed, commanded, and judged but also loved, redeemed, and perfected; the transcendent could yet be known, and that in intimacy. In this relation, a matter entirely of privilege, they would flourish and enter into the identity for which they were created. According to Reformed sensibilities, the knowledge of God was no abstract thing, but all-embracing in its consequences. It posed no detriment to knowledge of the self, no diminution of human integrity; fellowship with God meant proper human freedom, ultimate dignity as purposed by an ineffably generous maker. The insistence of the Reformed on the Word of God was not intended as a rejection of traditional Christian teaching or a dismissal of ecclesial authority. It was fundamental to the early Reformed claim to catholicity that renewal of the church meant no new gospel, only a recognition of the message heard by the faithful in ages past. As Reformed preachers saw it, that evangel had been variously compromised. Salvation was of the Lord, not creaturely endeavor; access to God’s presence lay with God, not the rubrics of God’s would-be gatekeepers; right worship would be restored when preaching, liturgy, sacraments, and orders attested the greatness of Scripture’s God and the freedom of his grace. But unlike more radical voices in the sixteenth century and beyond, the Reformed did not argue for “Scripture alone” at the expense of creeds, councils, or confessions, and they eschewed individualistic understandings of spiritual enlightenment. All of the church’s teaching had to be judged according to the Word; the church’s historic witness to the Word was an appointed instrument of God’s rule. Reformed teachers elaborated arguments on God that had a substantial hinterland in  patristic and medieval thought. Medieval theology had explored God’s existence, essence, attributes, and triunity along many paths, all of them dominated in one way or another by the magisterial influence of Augustine. Immense debates had been pursued at the interface of theology, Scripture, and philosophy: on the purpose and place of intellectual arguments (so-called proofs) for God’s existence; on the relationship between human language regarding the being and perfections of God and human language about creaturely being, and thus about what it might mean to say God is perfect, or good, or loving, or wise; on the incomprehensibility and infinity of God; on whether or not the essence of God might be distinguished metaphysically from the existence of God; on the nature of divine “simplicity,” according to which the essence of God was confessed to be identical with all of its perfections at once, such that these perfections, even if

the doctrine of god   295 differentiable, were neither “accidents” of the divine being nor “parts” of a composite whole; on the relationship between the being of God and the personal individuation enacted in the outward actions of God as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit; on the depth structures of divine omnipotence and divine freedom; on the relationship between the will of God as God and the decisions of God concerning creatures; on the power and purpose of God and the operation of God’s grace in salvation. When Reformed theologians spoke of any of these themes, the language they used had a history. Attempts to identify their arguments with some clear species of late-medieval absorption of Thomas Aquinas or John Duns Scotus or William of Ockham are generally simplistic. Specific legacies there certainly were, but early modern depictions of being and predication were mediated by interlacing authorities, and the Word’s instruction was typically sought in pointed disengagement from theology’s acquired preoccupations; simplicity and application, not cleverness, mattered. Still, there was no abrupt caesura with theological metaphysics. Ulrich Zwingli’s treatments of the holiness, majesty, and capacity of the God who ordered the world in creation, providence, and redemption were strongly biblical and dismissive of philosophy’s encroachments on theology; they also had much to say about the relationship between natural knowledge and revelation, and about the transcendence of the God revealed. John Calvin was famously critical of speculation, insistent upon the limitations of human capacity, at one level reluctant to engage in lengthy pedagogical discussion of the divine essence and attributes. Yet in his preaching and biblical commentary he evinced profound interest in the character of God, not least God’s essential goodness and beauty, and in the significance of the contemplation of God’s glory in Christian formation. Heinrich Bullinger— much better acquainted than Calvin with traditional theology—was essentially scriptural in his exposition of the sovereignty, freedom, and grace of God in action, but also keen to draw attention to the attributes of God on which believers might particularly dwell. Reformed theologians certainly offered refractions of their own. The caution with which Calvin and some of his associates had initially handled aspects of the early church’s language had led to accusations that they did not confess a God who was eternally triune; Calvin had endeavored to demonstrate from Scripture that he was indeed orthodox and had later offered more explicit endorsement of conciliar testimony. He also argued that the Son no less than the Father was, in his essence, autotheos, “God of himself ”: the Son was eternally “begotten” or generated of the Father as to his person, not as to his essence. Autotheos had in the tradition typically been applied to the Father only. Nevertheless, Calvin’s distinctive way of parsing co-equality was not without foundations in patristic reasoning; it was not intended as a departure from Nicene logic, only an attempt to emphasize the ontological status of the Son as “very God,” and to guard against an impression of subordination within the Godhead.1 Reformed theology was articulated in the teaching and writing of its influential leaders; it was disseminated far more widely in the confessional and catechetical documents that came to express the shared faith of Reformed churches. Although such statements regularly bore the fingerprints of major figures, they also helped to diffuse common convictions. The earliest Reformed confessions, preoccupied with immediate polemical

296   ivor j. davidson concerns, ventured relatively brief treatment of the doctrine of God. Major statements of the mid-sixteenth century, such as the French or Gallican Confession (1559), Belgic Confession (1561), and Second Helvetic Confession (1566), included standard affirmations of catholic orthodoxy, or, in the case of the Heidelberg Catechism of 1563, a richly pastoral treatment of the privileges of knowing the triune God of Scripture and creed. The Scots Confession of 1560, concerned to set forth a prophetic evangelical activism, deployed largely traditional idiom on divine uniqueness, majesty, and sovereignty, reflective of contemporary emphases in Geneva in particular; it would remain the chief confessional standard of Presbyterians in Scotland until 1647. Its doctrine of God was indubitably Calvinian in tone but also concerned with catholicity. The potency of God’s Word and will was stressed, but the notes were largely traditional, and divine determination of creatures assumed no particularly dominant place. As patterns of theological education evolved, much fuller exposition and defense of Reformed doctrine followed. The formulations that emerged in Reformed orthodoxy— more than two centuries of intense development and debate—were far more technical in form. They ought not, however, to be caricatured as a regression from biblical theology to arid scholasticism.2 The material significance of Scripture remained decisive; the role of logic undoubtedly loomed much larger, but Reformed pedagogy never adopted a single system, nor did it dissolve all its earlier principles in the acids of organizational abstraction. Constructive as well as critical dialogue with Lutheran and Roman Catholic interlocutors on biblical and dogmatic topics was an important part of the process, as was, in time, engagement with emergent philosophies such as Cartesianism. In any event, Reformed theology always involved vastly more than its grander theoretical expositions. Orthodoxy was hardly just its academic forms: the pervasive importance of preaching within the Reformed churches can scarcely be overstated; the regular patterns of worship, catechesis, and pastoral care expressed in far more immediate form for most what it meant to honor God in the rhythms of ordinary life. Reformed piety sought to trace the implications of God’s uniqueness for every sphere of human existence. For Presbyterianism, the formal articulation of the doctrine of God was shaped by the “high” orthodoxy of the mid-seventeenth century, as affected by three factors in particular: English (and to a lesser extent Scottish) Puritanism; controversy over “Arminianism,”3 especially the response of the Synod of Dort (Dordrecht) in 1618–1619; and the development of covenant or federal theology in the later sixteenth and early ­seventeenth centuries. Each of these influences emerged from earlier Reformed thought; each was multilayered. Puritan theology was far from uniform;4 the judgments of Dort were a compromise between tougher and more moderate responses to Arminian arguments;5 covenant theology evinced various styles, and debates about law, grace and morals were affected by political as well as spiritual agendas.6 International Reformed consensus was something of a construct, and there were substantial enduring controversies—on polity and practice, on divine sovereignty and human responsibility, on the nature and extent of the atonement, and on the relationship between the church and civil authority. Nevertheless, an impressive measure of agreement could be claimed, and there were obvious concerns on which the orthodox could unite. The most obvious was the view that God was One but not Three. Anti-Trinitarian belief had been a fairly significant

the doctrine of god   297 t­rajectory in Reformation thought, as witnessed most notoriously in the case of the Spanish physician and writer Michael Servetus, whose anti-Nicene teaching had ultimately led to his judicial execution in Calvin’s Geneva in 1553. Against Servetus and ­others “Arianism” was the usual charge, loosely applied as ever; in reality, persistent European traditions had held that Jesus was not God the eternal Son and that the ­doctrines of incarnation and Trinity were a corruption of the earliest Christian piety. In the first half of the seventeenth century “Arian” or Unitarian views of one kind or another were widespread on the continent (in Eastern Europe above all, though also in the Netherlands) and in England. The theological packages varied, with differential reliance on exegesis, individualism, and the valorization of a primitive faith untrammeled by the accretions of history.7 Continental Socinianism, English religious radicalism, and philosophical Unitarianism owned a range of pedigrees and different sorts of Christologies; the Socinians’ Racovian Catechism of 1605 offered a somewhat higher opinion of the Jesus of the gospels than could be found in rationalist reductionism. Trinitarian teaching was held to be intellectually repugnant anyhow, its critics often sharing with their opponents a desire to deliver the Bible from ecclesiastical hubris: anti-Trinitarian convictions were generally advanced in no rejection of scriptural study, but as its necessary conclusion. The ways in which such beliefs were countered reflected the pressures of a competitive religious marketplace and evolving early modern perspectives on tolerance and ­dissent, authority and repression in the handling of differences. Trinitarian reasoning developed its own strains in the process, not least in appeal to divine mystery. While Puritan theologians offered immensely powerful expositions of classical themes, the seventeenth century generated other legacies as well, including styles of divinity that depicted the Trinity as less than immediately pertinent to the average experience of faith.8 Overtly anti-Trinitarian belief would have extensive support within English Presbyterianism in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, and some energetic exponents, perhaps most famously Joseph Priestley, clergyman and scientist (the “discoverer” of oxygen), who eventually fled to Pennsylvania. It had a firm foothold in Scottish “Moderatism” and in certain sectors of Presbyterianism in Ireland, and played a major role in the flourishing of rational religion on Reformed soil in America. Over time, it found natural reinforcement in the Deism that typified a great deal of early Enlightenment philosophy and political theory. Intelligently appraised, God existed at a remove from the world, a single transcendent cause or guarantor, nature’s divinity perhaps, but not a being of active engagement in history, and assuredly not the agent of incarnation, cross, and resurrection. Rational belief rather than dogma would underwrite new narratives of personal and social freedom as emancipation from the oppression and violence wrought by competing forms of naive positive religion. But the roots of Unitarian conviction long predated the agendas of a self-consciously progressive epistemology or morality, or thoroughgoing modern assaults upon ecclesiastical power; its persistence within Reformed contexts only illustrated mainstream theology’s struggles to extirpate its appeal by argument alone. Within the ambit of seventeenth-century orthodoxy, by far the most significant milestone for the future of Presbyterianism was the work of the Westminster Assembly

298   ivor j. davidson (1643–1653). The Assembly did not succeed in establishing a common Reformed standard in England and Scotland, and the influence of its chief document, the Westminster Confession, was vastly greater outside England than within it. Nevertheless, the Confession offered an exceptionally powerful systematic summary of contemporary Reformed investments and had a huge impact on global Presbyterianism. It was approved by the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland in 1647, taken by waves of Scottish Presbyterian migrants to Ulster, and by English Puritan and Scots and Scots-Irish settlers to the American colonies; its theology (though not polity) was endorsed by the Congregationalist Synod of Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1648, and Presbyterians who used the Confession from the start had it officially adopted by the Synod of Philadelphia in 1729 (albeit with a conscience clause for New Englanders who had scruples over tight subscription). The Confession had Reformed critics and dissenters aplenty from the beginning, but carried by missionaries and colonists, taught to students and clergy who traveled to pursue their education, it became over time, either in its original form or adapted in a new local confession, a fundamental Presbyterian reference point in North America, Oceania, Africa, Asia, India, Latin America, and elsewhere. It also directly shaped non-Presbyterian forms (Congregationalist and Baptist) from the seventeenth century onward. In other places—Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, France, Italy—other historic confessions continued to prevail; some of these also were taken to and modified in new territories (the Belgic Confession, Heidelberg Catechism, and Second Helvetic Confession proved especially influential), including the Americas, Africa, and Asia. Where Dutch lineage was primary, the Belgic Confession and Heidelberg Catechism were accompanied by the Canons of Dort as “Three Forms of Unity.” In global reach, however, Westminster had the largest overall impact. The Westminster Confession outlined its doctrine of God in its second chapter, going on to treat God’s eternal decree, creation, providence, and other themes of divine being and action in subsequent sections.9 Westminster’s Catechisms presented its emphases in dialogue form, for use at home and in school as well as church; the Shorter Catechism, famed for its opening definition of “Man’s chief end” as “to glorify God and to enjoy him forever,” had immense influence as a pithy summation of what ought to be held concerning God and the “duty” God required of humans. The practical concerns of Puritan divinity in regard to vocation, personal and family life, and social ethics in the witness of a godly commonwealth were all evident. The Westminster’s Directory for the Public Worship of God, completed prior to the Confession and Catechisms, spelt out the implications for a biblically warranted liturgy and pastoral procedure.

A Presbyterian Doctrine of God: Classical Emphases How might we sum up the marks of this Reformed inheritance upon classical Presbyterian confession of God? The basic accents derived from a typically Augustinian

the doctrine of god   299 vision of theological discourse as primarily a meditation on the glory of God, and on all things else in their relation to God. If Scripture was theology’s cognitive foundation, as the Westminster Confession’s opening chapter insisted, the doctrine of God was its essential foundation. God might be considered in absolute terms—as God “on the inside,” or God qua God—or in respect of his “outer” works—as creator, redeemer, and perfecter of contingent reality.10 The ultimate nature of God’s inner life was known to God alone, but of its primordial reality theological intelligence had to speak, for God in himself was the vital basis of all that had been enacted in God’s free self-movement toward us, the divine economy of creation and salvation. In these works “on the outside” (ad extra) or “toward us” (quoad nos), God had revealed himself to be, “on the inside” (ad intra) or “in himself ” (in se), the God whose life subsisted as a triune fellowship of personal relations. In the order of creaturely knowing, outer works were the starting point; in the order of being, God in himself had strict material primacy. With some exceptions, Western tradition had tended to speak first of the One God, then of God as Trinity. The existence, essence, and attributes of God were addressed under the first head; the unity, co-equality, co-eternity, and intrinsic relations of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit under the second. This is the pattern followed in the Westminster Confession’s second chapter. The distinction between God as One and God as Three was not intended to deny that God was always triune, or to suggest that behind God’s actions in the world lay a monistic deity whose economy was merely modal display, or to imply that God’s attributes were somehow less than trinitarian in their depth. God was triune through and through. But the broader Western tradition to which the Reformed looked back had sought to emphasize that God disclosed himself to be both the One true God, whose essence was unique and Other, unknowable by human ingenuity, and the God whose triune movement in time expressed, in freedom, an irreducibly threefold relational perfection in his eternal life. On the existence of God, the reality of the one living and true God as the perfect source of all things was deemed to be available to creaturely reason, even in its fallen state; for the Reformed, reason was seriously vitiated, but there was an enduring sense of the divine creator in created nature, the distortion or denial of which was evidence only of the absurdity of human wickedness. Of the essence of God, the “most pure spirit,”11 Reformed faith continued to acknowledge, negative as well as positive language was required: the theologian had to say who and what God was not as well as who and what God was. God was assuredly beyond comprehension, no captive of any conceptual scheme or genus. The possibilities of analytic work, and of its formulation in analogical speech, were an act of contemplative worship of the One whose luminosity burned with greater intensity than creaturely gaze could bear. But God’s innermost life was not wholly noumenal mystery or elusive substrate; in the scholastic idiom, what God was transcended creaturely capacity, but what kind of God he was, the character of God, had been made known in God’s dealings with us. As revealed, the defining features of divinity were regarded not so much as “attributes” ascribed or “properties” possessed, but perfections displayed; if the language of ­“attributes” remained widespread, its content was considered to be acknowledged, not apportioned, by creatures. Within the wider tradition, perfections might be classified

300   ivor j. davidson as “incommunicable”—uniqueness, “aseity” (self-existence), eternity, immensity, immutability, and simplicity—or “communicable,” excellencies whose reality in a personal God received analogical expression in persons made in God’s image: knowledge, wisdom, power, goodness, love, mercy, and so on. In medieval theology, the features had varied, as had the methods for their identification: God in causal relation to observed consequences in worldly reality; God as antithesis to imperfection; God as most eminent expression of that which could be found in relative form in the creaturely realm. But if revelation was to be taken seriously, Reformed theology reasoned, divine perfections were not predicable by imaginative inversion of the properties of finitude, or exponential magnification of creaturely virtues. They were apprehensible to faith’s thinking strictly in consequence of God’s outward turn. In unpacking a confessional doctrine of God, Reformed theologians accordingly often made much of the names of God as revealed in Scripture: the lord, God, the Almighty, the Most High, and so on. These designations were seen as conveying vital insight into the unique identity of the divine subject whose essential life, glory, goodness, and blessedness were made known in, but not reduced to, their temporal enactment. Sovereignty and righteousness were certainly underscored, but so, too, were tenderness and mercy. The features of God’s life, intellect, and will were manifested not only in power, justice, or purity, but also in truth, faithfulness, and gentleness.12 In insisting that all of God’s revealed perfections were simultaneously essential to his being, Reformed orthodoxy merely maintained a consensus assumption about divine simplicity; the point was widely shared in Roman Catholic and Lutheran teaching. On the Trinity itself,13 the logic of the Councils of Nicaea (325) and Constantinople (381) was assumed to be biblically well-founded; as Westminster illustrated, Reformed Trinitarianism followed Western preference for the Filioque as valid interpolation in the Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed. The Holy Spirit was said to proceed eternally from the Father “and from the Son.” The Westminster Confession offered no separate chapter on the Spirit, but the Spirit’s personal nature and work as divine agent were repeatedly emphasized. Reformed orthodoxy’s accentuation of divine sovereignty found its most controversial expansion in the theology of predestination. “Double predestination,” the view that God had eternally predestined some to salvation, others to judgment, had typically been avoided by earlier Reformed confessional statements, even when it was the belief of individual contributors or was defended by them in detail elsewhere. The Westminster Confession spoke of the “foreordination” of the reprobate as well as his predestination of the elect.14 Predestination was already and would remain a highly emotive topic, especially in its practical applications. Contrary to enduring mythology, however, it never was the main focus of a Reformed doctrine of God or a central principle from which all other themes were derived; nor did the depictions of divine sovereignty in Reformed polemics develop only as some grim new expression of a radical Augustinianism, far less owe all their darkest hues to the malign creativity of Calvin or his heirs. The optimal location of predestination within an overall account of theology had been a question that had exercised Calvin and others. Scholasticism typically treated it

the doctrine of god   301 immediately after the doctrine of God, and developed detailed expositions of the divine “decrees,” reflecting on their logical sequence and relationship to the Oneness and the Threeness of God. In all this there was undoubtedly speculative expansion; sometimes (as in Westminster’s treatment) its most divisive technicalities—“infralapsarian” versus “supralapsarian” accounts of the place of election and reprobation within the mind of God relative to God’s permissive decree of humanity’s self-chosen fall—were best left ambiguous. Much energy would continue to be invested in refuting Arminian understandings of divine foreknowledge as precognition of faith rather than predetermination of final status. The overriding emphasis, however, was not new. Salvation was a matter of God’s freedom and undeserved favor; damnation was the consequence of human wickedness, not divine vindictiveness or caprice. There was no reason to posit a symmetry between election and reprobation, either in motivations or in outcomes; “special prudence and care” were to be shown in handling doctrinal “high mystery.”15 Presbyterian preaching and catechesis doubtless often forgot it, and there would be plenty of misuse of the theme; spiritual neurosis, evangelistic apathy, distortion of soteriology, and personal and social moralism variously ensued. In principle, however, the mercy, capacity, and constancy of God were to be key matters for Christian reflection. God was the all-sufficient agent of an unmerited deliverance for sinners; God was utterly committed to the elect—this was basis for their trust, worship, and hope. Reformed theologians from Zwingli and (especially) Bullinger onward had placed considerable emphasis on a divine covenant with humanity as an overarching biblical theme. In the second half of the sixteenth century, an elaborate doctrine of two covenants had evolved: a covenant of nature or works, and a covenant of grace. The first had a measure of affinity with medieval accounts of creation and moral order and of unfallen human nature as capable of discerning God’s law. God had established a covenant with humanity in which blessings would flow from obedience, curses from disobedience; sin had broken the covenant from the human side, bringing estrangement and death to Adam’s race. The covenant of grace was God’s undeserved extension of restoration, forgiveness, and blessing to humanity, first in the various administrations of the Old Testament’s history, then definitively in Christ, in whose work as mediator fellowship had been restored once and for all. From the mid-1640s onward, some Reformed thinkers proposed a third covenant besides: the covenant of redemption or pactum salutis.16 Behind the entire work of divine salvation lay an agreement between God the Father and God the Son—the Father appointed the Son as mediator; the Son willingly agreed to execute that role. The basis of redemption lay in God’s triune life before the foundation of the world. That idea would face exegetical and conceptual challenges, but it had clear roots in earlier Reformed thought and would in time prove influential for many Presbyterian preachers. Westminster itself retained a two-covenant framework, for the first time enshrining federal logic as a structuring principle in a confessional statement. It has often been supposed that federal schemes developed partly as counterpoint to the heavyweight monergism of predestinarian reasoning,17 but that interpretation does not hold; the two themes, covenant and predestination, repeatedly overlapped.18 Nor— contrary to an ill-founded but persistent line of criticism—was federal theology simply

302   ivor j. davidson a crass translation of the biblical semantics of covenant into the idiom of legal contracts, such that earlier Reformed celebrations of unconditional grace suffered eclipse and creaturely burdens resumed oppressive weight.19 Though it proved difficult to dismiss a certain impression that God was related to all as judge but only to some in love, or that election might be treated in at least a measure of detachment from the redemptive will of God as enacted in time, divine mercy as both sovereign provision and summons to fellowship remained an enduring emphasis. Law was undoubtedly spoken of a good deal, and the place of repentance in a sequential dynamic of personal salvation received much attention, but gratitude for grace was also fundamental to Reformed understandings of faith’s response to divine initiative; and grace was not envisioned merely as an instrument of creaturely assistance, detached from the personal presence of God in the gospel. The evangelical realism of Reformed teaching on the moral entailments of union with Christ was often far richer than its critics have imagined. The cultural, as well as spiritual, anarchy perceived in so-called antinomian arguments must also be kept in mind. Within the Puritan politics of both England and New England, the idea that the Christian life might find other foci besides a relentless battle against sin and a search for evidences of grace could be strategically associated with much more extreme versions of moral laxity, rather than appraised (as was generally intended) as a different way of affirming the priority of grace over works. “Antinomianism” was a politically expedient slur, regularly most unfair;20 but aspirations to embody a godly commonwealth rather than a people riven by violent conflict—or, in the case of Scotland, to be a nation in solemn covenant with God—were challenged by any implication, however misrepresented, that the responsibilities of spiritual preparation, repentance, faith, and obedience were less than comprehensively serious. Independent or “enthusiastic” notions of Christian freedom from law seemed to pose threat to order on more than one level. Yet rather often, and as a matter of principle rather than concession, divine sovereignty could also be presented as strongly affirmative of creaturely freedom, not the advancement of a stifling determinism or legalism.21 The divine decree and providence extended toward all, and included the tiniest details in God’s universe, but confessional Presbyterianism proposed no “violence” to the will of creatures; “liberty and contingency of secondary causes is not taken away, but rather established” by God’s free and unchangeable ordination of “whatsoever comes to pass.”22 Westminster also celebrated Christian freedom of conscience (and reason) over against false demands for “absolute and blind obedience.”23 The applicatory concerns of Puritan divinity were clear: “living to God” was no less important than “speaking of God.” Questions concerning the relationship in practice between election, faith, works, and assurance would grow, and the policing of personal and ecclesiastical discipline could certainly be darkly powerful in religious cultures in which certain kinds of answers held sway. Yet on the privileges of the grace of adoption, Westminster also stressed that those whom God took as children were enabled to address him in intimacy, recipients of great liberties and honor, “pitied, protected, provided for, and chastened by him as a Father.”24 Filial as distinct from forensic relation to God would scarcely always find adequate emphasis in Presbyterian pedagogy or worship, but Calvin’s memorable concern to highlight the

the doctrine of god   303 purpose of God in bringing many children to glory—and thus to underscore what ­salvation was for as well as from—was hardly abandoned.

Reception and Change The history of Presbyterian theology since the seventeenth century reflects a complex set of relationships to the themes just highlighted. The legacy of confessional orthodoxy’s doctrine of God has been affected by three vast forces: the intellectual consequences of the Enlightenment; debates about religious experience; and massive social, cultural, and political change. The three have, of course, been tightly interconnected. Though it is hard to discern a sense of it in the Westminster Confession, the particular kind of theocentric universe of which Reformed divinity had spoken was already in process of change in the mid-seventeenth century. The character of divine revelation and action in history, the principles by which the physical world might be investigated, the nature of the human, and the place of religion in society were all en route to regions of inquiry theology had scarcely encountered before. In the early eighteenth century, Westminster’s doctrinal system served as a tool of ecclesiastical and political control, but its authority was already under strain. The right to dissent was vigorously asserted, in Ireland, Scotland, and America, and the terms upon which confessional subscription might be expected or enforced, particularly by civil powers, became a hugely divisive business. Nonsubscription might be a declaration of freedom from overweening authority or an insistence on the primacy of Scripture; it might also increasingly be bound up with a frank refusal of traditional tenets on rational grounds. Continental scholasticism, tired of internecine polemics, preferred doctrinal flexibility and quests for common ground with other believers. New styles of philosophy were attractive: Cartesianism; the ideas of Gottfried Leibniz or Christian Wolff; not all rationalist construals of God and nature meant the problems represented by Baruch Spinoza. For many Presbyterians, the emergence of a “natural” or “reasonable” religion, of a God less ­controlling or interfering, held strong appeal. A vaguely Reformed sense of divine providence often remained in view, as did a vaguely Reformed sense that practical reason was given by God, but the center of gravity increasingly lay with the human tasks of deploying nature’s assets in the fashioning of a better world. In Scotland, “Moderatism” became a dominant force within the kirk. Its clerical advocates aspired to be friends of culture, and made major contributions to the Enlightenment’s philosophy, history, and literature. Scottish common-sense realism, which sought to show among other things that David Hume’s skepticism was not the only option for an intelligent account of knowledge, had a powerful impact in America. It took shape in orthodox forms in the pedagogy of Princeton, but in the intellectual energies of independence politics it often sat closer to a very different impulse, confident in the native powers of “moral sense.” The latter style would fortify the theology of New Haven and the Unitarianism of Harvard in the nineteenth century. In Scottish, Irish,

304   ivor j. davidson and American expressions of Presbyterian modernity, accusations of heresy might or might not formally be upheld, but “Arianism” and Deism were evident just the same, and ideas traveled fast. In English nonconformism, Westminster held far less sway in any case, and tolerance was a cherished virtue; independent ecclesiastical structures facilitated diversity, and there was plenty of openness to new ways of thinking. Rejection of the incarnation and the Trinity—never mind baroque rendition of the divine decrees—was common. The political stakes for individual teachers could be high, and some chose to temper their language rather than risk the cost (denial of the Trinity remained a penal offense until 1813). But flight to America was another option, and there lay many receptive currents. On both sides of the Atlantic, the arguments continued to be bound up with assessments of Scripture and tradition but traded increasingly on the authority of reason and experience. Domesticated divinity—God as an essentially benign if amorphous civic governor rather than the being whose majesty might disrupt and divide—seemed to hold promise for a more inclusive social order, not least in a post-Revolutionary context. In America as in Britain, Unitarianism would have its sectarians and its ecumenists; as a coherent and distinct religious movement it expanded considerably in the nineteenth century, assisted by political, social, and theological changes of diverse kinds, including loss of confidence in alternative forms of liberalism and new quests for religious fulfillment in ritual as well as rational terms.25 By the turn of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, “pure” reason was old metaphysics. Speculative projection of the nature of the being whose existence underlay the world’s reality was itself irrational. The alternative to revealed religion or even a ­“natural” proof of God’s existence was not a dogmatic exaggeration of reason’s powers, but the recognition that the mind had other work to do in configuring the practical conditions of experience in the world. Freedom from self-incurred tutelage was motivation of no small force, but practical reason had profound obligations in the enactment of what was good. Idealism after Immanuel Kant aspired to diverse completions of the moral task, but the preoccupations were necessarily immanent: whether the emphasis lay on the bounded creativity of the thinking subject, or on history itself as realization of the absolute, or on the revelatory capacity of nature, ethical questions took center stage; if divinity still mattered, it did so in underwriting the possibilities stretched out before the human. The political and cultural forces that gave birth to and found nurture in all these currents of thought were, of course, huge. The perceived terms of progress beyond the restrictions of classical religion bore many forms (and costs), and only in time would it be acknowledged that human autonomy in a world rid of divinity was an assertion of will as much as a conclusion of intellect. In the second half of the nineteenth century, German philosophy and theology had immense impact. There was the influence of Friedrich Schleiermacher’s huge endeavor to move theology’s focus away from an account of the objectivity of God in himself and onto the corporate experience of redemption in Christ; piety’s consciousness of sin and grace, not speculation about the Godhead, determined the scope of doctrinal claims.26 There was the appeal of Hegelian idealism, evident in arguments for the significance of

the doctrine of god   305 history and nature as a whole, and for religion in general as expression of human ­consciousness and inspiration to social and cultural action. There was the extensive ­legacy of Albrecht Ritschl’s emphasis on the centrality of ethics and the coming of God’s kingdom, an undogmatic faith that followed Jesus’s example and idealized virtue inspired by love. There were the claims of late nineteenth- and early twentieth-century German and British “kenotic” theologies, the latter typified in the work of A. B. Bruce, H. R. Mackintosh, and P. T. Forsyth. Divinity needed, one way or another, to be scaled down to be thought of as participant in history—but not scaled down in lovingness, goodness or purity, for ultimate reality deserved to be conceived in moral more than metaphysical terms. The challenges posed by the modern sciences, natural and historical; the impact of biblical criticism; and, especially, the quest for the “historical” Jesus were all ingredients in the mix. In rapidly changing intellectual contexts, consciously modern Presbyterians in the British Isles or North America found many ways of arguing for something other than the God of revelation as confessed by their traditions. Presbyterian theology endeavored to resist the forces of modernity; it also furthered or sought to mediate them. The moralizing of liberal Protestantism, and its connections with a more malleable species of theism, were certainly modern in their idiom; much of it took form at just the time when churches in their Old World contexts were already showing symptoms of decline. Still, where there was genuine effort to give weight to religious experience, and specifically the experience of God as loving, not just powerful, the theological impulse was not entirely new. The effort to emphasize that divine sovereignty might fund rather than inhibit an account of personal liberation had been an enduring Reformed challenge. Sometimes the proposals, particularly in the seventeenth century, had seemed to make so much of repentance, faith, sanctification, and perseverance that they ironically risked a return to anthropocentrism; when the creator-creature distinction was stated badly, the creature’s realm might oddly loom the larger. If the substance of orthodoxy had in the eighteenth century been challenged by rationalism, its practical application had been challenged by evangelical pietism, which found basis to critique unduly cerebral construals of doctrine, to emphasize a liberating personal faith, and to press the free offer of the gospel. In debates such as the “Marrow controversy” in Scotland in the 1720s, the “Marrow men,” who favored the The Marrow of Modern Divinity (issued in its initial form in 1645) by English author “E. F.” (Edward Fisher), had no wish to abandon the teaching of Westminster; they merely sought to interpret it in light of the whole counsel of God: to preach a salvation available to all, to give due place to Christian assurance, and to expound covenant theology as a framework of grace rather than legal conditions.27 In an era that could generate fierce (hyper-Calvinist) articulations of election as argument against the free offer of the gospel or the proclamation of the death of Christ as sufficient for all, or imply that the believer’s peace might be tied to spiritual introspection more than to divine commitment, the doctrine of God as biblically set forth demanded fresh and proportionate emphasis. If the confessional endeavors to hold in balance election, atonement, evangelism, faith, and works had been compromised, it was the character of God as loving and gracious that the church needed again to

306   ivor j. davidson apprehend. Ecclesiastical secession had been a price for some to pay in assertion of their spiritual freedom, but the evangelical instincts expressed in the construal of confessional principles had also helped to shape wider Presbyterian sentiments about the importance of mission, both at home and overseas. These notes had found many transatlantic echoes, not least in the evangelical revivals that occurred on both sides of the ocean in the same age.28 In New England, the Great Awakening of the 1730s and 1740s produced major divisions over the relationship between sovereign grace, the experience of conversion, and the terms of church membership. “New” versus “old” divinity divided Reformed religion in America for generations; the Old Side–New Side controversy and schism in the mid-eighteenth century were colonial Presbyterianism’s versions of a larger (Old Light versus New Light) clash between competing visions of enthusiasm, itinerancy, and order; they also implied differing applications of a common belief in the sovereignty of God. Church politics had been deeply involved in all of it, as had debates about authority, but the differences were at some level also about the nature of God’s grace, and about how its reality might (or must) be experienced personally. Presbyterian preachers with revivalist sympathies were regularly accused of succumbing to Arminianism, and betraying the principles enunciated by Dort and Westminster. Emotionalism and individualism were real ­concerns, as was disturbance to vulnerable patterns of religious power, though often the aspiration was simply to tell the story of divine sufficiency as a message of personal change. The legacy of Jonathan Edwards’s profound efforts to combine Reformed ­doctrine with contemporary philosophy in the analysis of experience was significant in New England and beyond for a century and more, representing an alternative version of Enlightenment intellectualism in the registers of a Reformed spirituality. Yet the eventual mutation of that theological tradition into one that portrayed a vastly more optimistic perspective on creaturely freedom and potential than Edwards had done and found common cause with decidedly more liberal accounts of God as moral governor, would to its critics only confirm the dangers of placing the wrong kinds of weight upon the human. Presbyterian struggles over what it meant to speak of the love of a sovereign and holy God for sinners had not gone away. In Scotland, the first half of the nineteenth century witnessed fierce debates over the doctrine of salvation—the nature of the atonement, the relationship between judicial and filial themes, and the terms of a message of pardon. The most notorious was the case of John McLeod Campbell, deposed from the Church of Scotland ministry in 1831 for teaching universal atonement and assurance of salvation as essential to saving faith. Campbell’s later work The Nature of the Atonement (1856), produced as an Independent, demonstrated how far he had ventured from the soteriology of his background;29 idiosyncratic it undoubtedly was, but it would in time prove an influential landmark, and the erstwhile villain himself received some acclaim late in life. For Campbell, pastoral realities had ultimately required substantial modulation of scholasticism’s bequest. Yet more than the rhetoric of such controversies sometimes conveyed, the issues were embedded in differing assessments of the nature and relationships of divine attributes, and perhaps a certain amnesia about divine simplicity as it was

the doctrine of god   307 classically conceived. In any event, the ventilation of themes that initially proved controversial to the point of heretical presaged changes in the later Victorian period, when there would be significant qualification of the terms of confessional subscription. Westminster would remain a subordinate standard, but open to much more flexible interpretation, especially on matters such as universal atonement and the declaration of free forgiveness. Further controversies and divisions followed, but a significant swathe of the resurgent evangelicalism that had led to the Disruption of the Church of Scotland in 1843 and an alternative national Free Church committed to the authority of Scripture and the orthodoxy of Westminster had itself come to various accommodations with the spirit of the age. There remained powerful conservative trajectories, in Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, and in the migration of Presbyterians from these countries to Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and America. In America, Scots-Irish influences in particular tended to have strongly traditionalist force, especially in the South. Intense Old School versus New School divisions in both the North and the South generated schism in 1837; revivalism, slavery, education, church rivalries, and civil politics coalesced over two decades or so of heady antebellum dynamics, but in it all lay a debate about the place of orthodoxy in a changing world. At Princeton, conservative theology was championed for a halfcentury and more by the redoubtable Charles Hodge, one of the chief protagonists of Old School sensibilities; it was later expounded by the yet abler Benjamin Warfield, whose extensive contributions to scholarship were marked by strong commitment to the infallibility of the Bible and to seventeenth-century orthodoxy as safe summation of its teaching. The accompanying critiques of divine immanence, or Romantic and pietistic notions of religious experience, or the perils of German idealism, or naïve assessments of human potential influenced thousands of students in America and overseas. Dutch Reformed traditions in the United States also tended to show strong enthusiasm for their confessional inheritance. In the Netherlands, political and theological tensions produced a number of church divisions; the prolific work of Abraham Kuyper (1837–1920), later his country’s prime minister, had influence on Presbyterian alongside other Reformed traditions in North America and Southern Africa. Its doctrine of God was expansive: the earth was the Lord’s; “common grace” was operative in the world at large; the church was mandated to engage in vigorous shaping of contemporary culture, defining the diverse spheres in which divine authority might be expressed. If the nineteenth century had demonstrated anything, it was the pace of cultural change. Presbyterian theology had found itself dealing not only with intellectual developments but also with enormous political, social, and economic change. Industrialization and urbanization had radically affected Western societies; international migration had occurred on an unprecedented scale. In some settings, Presbyterianism had continued to operate as a consciously marginal entity, a dissenting tradition with a distinctive subculture; in others, it had maintained, or aspired to secure, a privileged place, a pillar of establishment. Presbyterian divinity was heavily bound up with the causes of religious liberty; it also underwrote the politics of convention. In both Old and New World settings, its aspirations were frequently ambitious. Education in particular had remained a

308   ivor j. davidson strong commitment. Presbyterians made substantial contributions to the schooling of children, the sponsorship of adult literacy, and the development of institutions of higher learning in new contexts. In a number of settings, not least in England and Wales, Nonconformist religious culture in general had shaped progressive politics, the expansion of suffrage, temperance, and welfare reform, all in the name of the God who cared about human flourishing. In North America as in Britain, trade, ­science, and technology were typically assumed to be God’s will, and there was urgent work to do, often with ill-divided benefits. But divine determinism was far less of a creed than has often been claimed, nor were busy Presbyterians always merely trying to demonstrate their election. Social conservatism and agendas for reform jostled, but the God who summoned covenant partners also commanded them to challenge unjust structures; some of the ideals proved formative in the development of political and legislative systems in societies such as New Zealand. By the time the best fruits of the social and political work were evidenced in Britain, in the first part of the twentieth century, the spiritual energy behind them had, ironically, dissipated a good deal, and organized religion was undergoing cultural pressures of new kinds again. In North America, the Social Gospel was developed in interdenominational settings that included Presbyterians and was marked by impassioned efforts to improve the lot of working people made in God’s image. But the packages favored in more liberal theologies of reform were often somewhat anodyne in comparison with the accounts espoused by older versions of Presbyterian outreach: a vague account of the divine fatherhood of all; a God who encouraged worthy moral action on behalf of the needy, but whose assessment of their inherent capacity to make progress, courtesy of education and welfare, was a good deal more positive than the Reformed had once suggested. The vast enterprise of nineteenth-century missionary endeavor had brought Presbyterian divinity into unprecedented levels of contact with other cultures. Contrary to the caricatures, missions did not merely bring economic plunder or cultural vandalism in God’s name; they also yielded undeniable experiences of emancipation and countless benefits in education, medicine, and science. There was study of histories and languages, loving indigenization of the Bible in local tongues, and, in time at least, some constructive engagement with native traditions. But the issues were never simple anywhere. Empire and slavery were ever a backdrop; narratives of exodus and redemption bore enduring power but might assume dramatically different applications for the powerful and the weak. In America, the end of the Civil War saw the emancipation of black slaves and new outreach to the South from Northern Presbyterians; it also brought enduring Southern segregation, and theological defenses of racial stratification as divinely favored order. In Africa, Dutch, Scottish, and American missions imported their respective and often cross-fertilizing versions of classical Reformed emphases, but their connections to colonialism also entailed huge questions of race, suffering, and violence and of the relationship of missionary theology to pre-Christian and non-Christian religious traditions. The gospel brought salvation, but the God of Presbyterian faith was also invoked to justify exploitation, racism, and sexism. Versions of the issues could be mapped endlessly, in Africa, India, Southeast Asia, Latin America, and the Pacific. Still,

the doctrine of god   309 if evangelical missions sometimes existed in delicate association with other human schemes, so too did other kinds of Presbyterian confession. The moralistic theologies that found favor in many mainstream “First World” contexts were often at least as likely to trade on assumptions of cultural hierarchy and the civilizing qualities of bourgeois Western values. The God of liberal Protestantism could look decidedly similar to the gods of worldly empire. The twentieth century ultimately brought change on almost every front. The First World War, and the crisis of culture to which it gave rise, shattered the naiveté of liberalism. The so-called dialectical theology (Lutheran and Reformed) that emerged in Germany and Switzerland insisted that God could not be co-opted in support of this world’s projects. The transcendent otherness of God was vital, and never domesticable as human capital; only through God could God be known. Søren Kierkegaard, Martin Luther, and Augustine resourced the reading of Paul. Karl Barth’s dogmatics above all would go on to develop the constructive Reformed case on a massive canvas.30 The starting point for all theology was the actuality of the self-revealing God. Natural theology, seen as the attempt to reason toward God from experience of the world, was to be rejected as generative only of idols. Religious experience as liberalism had understood it—the tradition in which Barth himself had been schooled—was dangerously vague and vulnerable to the legitimate critiques of the nineteenth century’s masters of suspicion. Theology pursued that way ultimately had no answer to the charge that it was a delusion, or merely an instrument of social control. Revelation was the only truly good news. For Barth, the Word of God, supremely the incarnate person of Jesus Christ, was the locus of all truth about God and humanity. In Christ, God’s being was found to be a being-in-act, his absoluteness his freedom for loving action, his election his choice to be himself in fellowship with humanity. Barth’s theology was profoundly shaped by his own engagements with the Reformed tradition. He offered an immense reworking of major themes—God’s essential triunity and plenitude; the perfections of God’s being; the twofold nature of election, but strictly in Christ, at once the electing God and the elect human—all in a consciously modern key, combining acute awareness of the challenges posed by the nineteenth century with a refusal to allow theology to be dissolved into some other mode of discourse. The political force of the vision was intense; Barth was chief contributor to the Barmen Declaration (1934)—God alone was sovereign; Christ alone was Lord; National Socialism was neither. Reformed dogmatics were inseparable from Reformed ethics. Barth’s influence in Presbyterian theology, either directly or indirectly—not least later through teachers such as Scotland’s T. F. Torrance—would be unparalleled in modern times. Various British Presbyterian theologians of the first half of the twentieth century— John Oman, H.  H.  Farmer, and John Baillie—adjusted their liberalism courtesy of influences from the philosophy of personalism, which argued for the possibilities of encounter with God and his grace in the free and life-giving density of personal relations and social interaction. Their syntheses posed as alternatives to classical approaches, which in an age of pluralism continued to be seen as repressive or untenable. The proposals were energized, but somewhat shifting in their investments. Their doctrines of

310   ivor j. davidson God were less robustly dogmatic than Barth’s, reflective of a quest for correlations with modern culture as much as a challenge to its assumptions about where, if at all, God was to be found. In an era of violent dictatorship, global conflict, and genocide, Presbyterians showed ultimate courage alongside others, but were forced to think hard about God and his purposes. Understandings of the plan of God in history or of the church’s vocation to bear witness to the coming of the kingdom faced diverse impulses to change the world or reckon with its judgment. In America, left-leaning neo-orthodoxy argued that the transcendent otherness of God provided an essential basis for social engagement. Reinhold Niebuhr urged a theology of realism: the fundamental nature of human brokenness and structural sin; their remedy not in systems of power but in the radical gospel of grace. The case involved sharp criticism of liberalism’s cultural captivity. God was much larger than some Presbyterians had perhaps come to suppose. In the decades after the Second World War, Presbyterian theology was pursued amid new kinds of forces: economic and social reconstruction, the demise of empires, new waves of migration, growing religious diversity, the Cold War, conflicts in Korea and Vietnam, civil rights movements, second-wave feminism, Western materialism versus global inequality, the advancement of science and medicine, and escalating concerns about the pernicious effects of technocracy and cultural imperialism. Resurgent evangelical theologies maintained strong reactions against modernism, but often in more intellectually confident and outward-looking forms. Interdenominational charismatic and neo-Pentecostal Christianity held out promise of renewal and expansion in restless societies and made significant impacts in arid places. Presbyterian theology also found challenges (and occasional forms of inspiration) in the “death of God” theologies of the 1960s, which argued that traditional notions of divine transcendence were essentially implausible in the late-modern world: the experience of divine absence, not presence, was the basis for responsible cultural engagement. For many, the concerns of protest atheism, or complaints about religion’s misanthropic features, or late-modern ennui had to be taken seriously and met with new narratives of “God with us.” Presbyterian theologians made new efforts to present Trinitarian theology in specifically political and social terms, to engage with cultural theory, and to focus once more on the role of Christian practices in testimony to a generous God. Presbyterian faith had always traveled. In countries where its history already involved a complex story of mission and empire, the principles by which culture might be adjudged and the terms by which contextualization might legitimately occur deserved attention as never before. On the Korean peninsula, the very name of the Christian God had proved a matter of real significance. If God was Hananim, in what way did this convey him as “the One Great Lord” of Korean Taoism and Shamanism? In India, the relationship of the gospel to Hinduism had always been a pivotal question. In Japan, it seemed impossible to speak of the Christian God in the aftermath of the Second World War without immediately speaking also of his relationship to human pain, suffering, and humiliation. In many different South and East Asian contexts, it was necessary to ask how traditional Reformed emphases—on the power of God, on election, on the

the doctrine of god   311 transformative nature of grace—related to the immediate experience of history, ­especially the history of suffering and struggle against oppressive powers. Scottish, American, and other European legacies remained strong, but many Presbyterians also developed their own self-consciously local and holistic theologies, especially in the last quarter of the twentieth century. Emphasis on God’s involvement in everyday life, on divine identification with ­suffering or loss or injustice, were very common themes, though invariably in specific situational terms, and with strong concerns for human betterment. One of the bestknown examples, the South Korean Minjung theology of the 1970s and 1980s in particular, sought to render a distinctive version of social liberation as fundamental to the churches’ mission. The dignity of all people as made in the image of God was reaffirmed as a core conviction of faith and the basis for a theologically responsible perspective on the division of South Korea from North. The confession of divine sovereignty could be an inspiration for, not an argument against, the building of more just political and economic structures. In Southern Africa, Reformed divinity had been blasphemously invoked to authorize apartheid, but Presbyterian faith could also show immense courage in protesting evil and working for a different society. The prophetic witness of Christian fidelity in political and social terms clashed with the evils wrought by self-serving or nominally religious elites. In the effort to expand a theology of missions as a local grass-roots responsibility and to address political realities on their immediate terms, Asian and African contextual theologies have faced inevitable challenges, and divisions between more conservative and more liberal attitudes to traditional Reformed teaching are evident in many settings. The interactions of theological education at home and overseas have also complicated things. Evangelism, biblical proclamation, and education have remained important, and some core Reformed investments have often proved resilient, especially a strong sense of the sovereignty of God in history and of the significance of the church as creature of the Word and divine project for the refashioning of broken human existence. In South Korea and Japan, these emphases have also been fed by the continuing influences of European and North American theology. Similar trends exist within the vast complexity of contemporary Chinese Christianity, where covenantal and restorationist strands of Reformed teaching appear to be gaining notable traction alongside more individualistic themes. African Presbyterianism has increasingly generated distinctively African renditions of theology, influenced not only by classical teaching but also by charismatic spiritualities, engagements with traditional religions and forms of healing, and endeavors to promote social development in intensely divided nations. African Presbyterians have also come to recognize a mission to evangelize the lands from which their Christian ancestors came, especially in Europe. What might it mean for Presbyterians to speak of God in the particularities of postcolonial Africa, or in India, Japan, Mexico, or Brazil, or in the hyphenated cultures of Asian or black or Hispanic Americans, or in the radically post-Christendom environments of Australia, New Zealand, or Canada? What is the relationship between the orthodoxy brought by Presbyterian missionaries and settlers and the often profoundly different

312   ivor j. davidson and more pluralistic contexts of contemporary faith? What do race, class, gender, ­poverty, suffering, conflict, exploitation, and oppression have to do with theology, and what does it mean to read the Bible in light of profound experiences of abuse, vulnerability, or need? Postcolonial, liberationist, and contextual agendas have been driven by these immense questions of identity and integrity of expression. The issues have affected Presbyterians in older as well as newer settings. Within established Western Presbyterian traditions, Latin American, black, feminist, womanist, mujerista (Hispanic feminist), postmodern, and queer theologies have all ventured sharp judgments about classical approaches. Articulations new and old face enduring challenges as to the criteria by which authenticity of experience may be ascertained and how the local, the personal, and the blended may relate to the global and the catholic. Cross-fertilization of ideas, ecumenical agendas, and deepening reflection on the nature and tasks of missional theology as ecclesial enactment of divine mandate have enriched some of the discussion, as has consideration of the connections between theology, politics, and sociology.

Prospects If Presbyterian confession of God occurs today in a setting of “world Christianity,” with forms, structures, and heartlands increasingly removed from their historical ones, what might this mean for its doctrine, and how, if at all, can total fragmentation be avoided, such that context is not fate or basis only for open-ended expressivism? In a great many mainstream churches, confessional authority has been loosened considerably; standards such as Westminster may retain formal status, but the nature of subscription is treated loosely in practice, or (as in the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A.) the Confession itself stands as one alongside other historic confessional resources. Efforts have sometimes been made to establish new formulas, especially in contexts of union with other Reformed denominations, but have often been unsuccessful; resolution of tensions in practice has proved elusive, and vagueness has frequently been preferred. In a depressing array of global contexts, multiple neighboring branches of Presbyterianism continue to profess official allegiance to the same historic standards but differ greatly in how seriously to take them. In many ways, the nineteenth century’s questions continue. In more liberal circles, there have been calls for the abandonment of classical notions of God as variously embedded in static “substance metaphysics,” or “perfect being” theology, or in projections of power and control that have been used to license oppression. Patriarchy, exploitation, the restriction of freedom, abuse of the vulnerable, mistreatment of nonhuman creatures, and exploitation of the planet itself have all been blamed on traditional doctrine. It has also been argued that theologies of religion in a pluralist environment demand a serious reframing of categories: a recognition that the language of the triune God is only one way of naming a reality that may be approached along many paths and symbolized in many terms. Over against these kinds of claims,

the doctrine of god   313 Presbyterians of different sensibilities have continued to see rich resources in their tradition and its location within the wider story of catholic Christianity. The majesty, sovereignty, and plenitude of God remain, for them, vital claims of the Christian gospel. Rightly articulated, these themes pose no threat to creaturely dignity, freedom, or hope: they are their only sure foundation. The influences of Barth, of a more historically conscious evangelicalism, and of interactions with Roman Catholic and Orthodox theologies have helped make such points, as has a renewed interest in both biblical and philosophical theology in Reformed styles. Serious study of neglected Reformed authors and of post-Reformation dogmatics at large has also properly called into question many of the glib accounts of earlier scholarship, offering far more nuanced assessments of continuities and differences within the Reformed tradition. Presbyterian doctrines of God have benefited from all this, and there have been notable yields in contemporary work. For a number of theologians, it is important that Reformed dogmatics demonstrate its contemporary distinctiveness as well as its roots, not least its distinctiveness from some of the styles of “economic Trinitarianism” proposed in the later twentieth century. According to the gospel, God’s revelation most certainly occurs in time, but Reformed theology has large assets with which to make a further point: that material primacy in theology necessarily lies with the triune God’s “essential” life in himself––eternally free, realized, and complete, and as such the boundless Giver of every gift that creatures ever know. God ought not to be conceived merely in relation to the world, or as in some way constituted by or for his engagement with it; creation, providence, salvation, and eschaton are as great as they are because it is so. Not all are persuaded, even within Reformed contexts; debates about metaphysics, history, and experience will no doubt continue. The issues that have faced Presbyterian divinity in modernity are hardly unique to it, nor can they legitimately be tackled in isolation from the insights and experience of other Christian traditions, as Reformed ecumenism at its best has recognized. If the doctrine of God bears upon all things, the care with which it is approached—and the spirit in which it is expressed—says much about the health of the church. If continuing fragmentation and subjectivism are to be avoided within Presbyterianism, it will be in common submission to the Word of God, and in fresh acknowledgment of the ongoing need for the church at large to be reformed in accordance with the Spirit’s instruction. That matter will ever be costly as well as liberating for those given ears to hear. Humble petition lies at its heart. Presbyterians ignore their inheritance at their peril. It is, of course, also the case that Presbyterian theology can never be reduced to the formal teaching of its preachers and leaders, or to the summaries set forth by official bodies, however influential or faithful. If its sole authority is the gospel, the Word that calls the church into being, Presbyterianism’s doctrine of God also exists as the faith of “ordinary” believers, within the endless density of their social histories. Insofar as they are taught by the gospel, these ordinary Presbyterians, in all their diversity, are fundamental to their tradition’s theological story. Today, as ever, the cultural status of their convictions may be mixed indeed. If, however, they have been right in their most basic claims, their history of confessing—which embraces all of their

314   ivor j. davidson living, not merely their intellectual efforts, or their formal acts of worship—is enacted in the presence of the God who lives, and who is committed immeasurably to their blessing. In that lies all the encouragement they need.

Notes 1. Brannon Ellis, Calvin, Classical Trinitarianism, and the Aseity of the Son (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012). 2. Richard  A.  Muller, Prolegomena to Theology, vol. 1 of Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003), 27–84; Willem J. van Asselt, ed., Introduction to Reformed Scholasticism (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2011); and Herman J. Selderhuis, ed., A Companion to Reformed Orthodoxy (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2013). 3. Theodore Marius van Leeuwen, Keith  D.  Stanglin, and Marijke Tolsma, Arminius, Arminianism, and Europe (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2009); and Keith D. Stanglin and Thomas H. McCall, Jacob Arminius: Theologian of Grace (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). 4. John Coffey and Paul  C.  H.  Lim, eds., The Cambridge Companion to Puritanism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008). 5. Aza Goudriaan and Fred van Lieburg, eds., Revisiting the Synod of Dort (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2010). 6. On covenant theology, see, for example, Peter Lillback, The Binding of God: Calvin’s Role in the Development of Covenant Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2001); Willem J. van Asselt, The Federal Theology of Johannes Cocceius (1603–1669) (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2001); R. Scott Clark, Casper Olevian and the Substance of the Covenant: The Double Benefit of Christ (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2008); and Brian J. Lee, Johannes Cocceius and the Exegetical Roots of Federal Theology: Reformation Developments in the Interpretation of Hebrews 7–10 (Göttingen, Germany: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2009). 7. Philip Dixon, “Nice and Hot Disputes”: The Doctrine of the Trinity in the Seventeenth Century (London: T&T Clark, 2003); Martin Mulsow and Jan Rohls, eds., Socinianism and Arminianism: Antitrinitarians, Calvinists and Cultural Exchange in Seventeenth-Century Europe (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2005); and Sarah Mortimer, Reason and Religion in the English Revolution: The Challenge of Socinianism (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2010). 8. Paul  C.  H.  Lim, Mystery Unveiled: The Crisis of the Trinity in Early Modern England (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012). 9. The following references to the Confession are from The Confession of Faith and the Larger and Shorter Catechisms (Glasgow: Free Presbyterian Publications, 1973). 10. On the general context, see Andreas  J.  Beck, “God, Creation, and Providence in PostReformation Reformed Theology,” in The Oxford Handbook of Early Modern Theology, 1600–1800, ed. Ulrich L. Lehner, Richard A. Muller, and A. G. Roeber (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016), 195–212; and Sebastian Rehnman, “The Doctrine of God in Reformed Orthodoxy,” in A Companion to Reformed Orthodoxy, ed. Herman J. Selderhuis (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2013), 353–401.

the doctrine of god   315 11. Westminster Confession of Faith, 2.1. 12. See Richard  A.  Muller, The Divine Essence and Attributes, vol. 3 of Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003), pt. 2. 13. See Richard A. Muller, The Triunity of God, vol. 4 of Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003), pt. 2. 14. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.3; see also 3.7. 15. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.8. 16. See John V. Fesko, The Covenant of Redemption: Origins, Development, and Reception (Göttingen, Germany: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2016), esp. chaps. 1–3; also B. Hoon Woo, The Promise of the Trinity: The Covenant of Redemption in the Theologies of Witsius, Owen, Dickson, Goodwin, and Cocceius (Göttingen, Germany: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2018). 17. David  A.  Weir, The Origins of the Federal Theology in Sixteenth-Century Reformation Thought (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990). 18. On the enduring significance of Christology in particular in the Reformed articulation of election, see Richard A. Muller, Christ and the Decree: Christology and Predestination in Reformed Theology from Calvin to Perkins, rev. ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008). On thematic integration in federalism generally, see Andrew  A.  Woolsey, Unity and Continuity in Covenantal Thought: A Study in the Reformed Tradition to the Westminster Assembly (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2011). 19. James  B.  Torrance, “Contract or Covenant? A Study of the Theological Background of Worship in Seventeenth-Century Scotland,” Scottish Journal of Theology 23 (1970): 51–76; the case has been widely challenged. See, for example, Richard A. Muller, After Calvin: Studies in the Development of Theological Tradition (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003), 63–80. 20. T.  Dwight Bozeman, The Precisianist Strain: Disciplinary Religion and Antinomian Backlash in Puritanism to 1638 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2004); and David R. Como, Blown by the Spirit: Puritanism and the Emergence of an Antinomian Underground in Pre-Civil-War England (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2004). 21. On the philosophical roots and their modern characterization, see Richard  A.  Muller, Divine Will and Human Choice: Freedom, Contingency, and Necessity in Early Modern Reformed Thought (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2017), pt. 3. 22. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.1. 23. Westminster Confession of Faith, 20.2. 24. Westminster Confession of Faith, 12. 25. Andrea Greenwood and Mark W. Harris, An Introduction to the Unitarian and Universalist Traditions (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), esp. chaps. 3–6. 26. F. D. E. Schleiermacher, The Christian Faith, 2nd ed. (1830/1), trans. H. R. Mackintosh and J. S. Stewart (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1928). 27. David  C.  Lachman, The Marrow Controversy 1718–28 (Edinburgh: Rutherford House, 1988); and William VanDoodewaard, The Marrow Controversy and Seceder Tradition: Atonement, Saving Faith, and the Gospel Offer in Scotland (1718–1799) (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2011). 28. Mark Jones and Michael A. G. Haykin, eds., A New Divinity: Transatlantic Reformed Evangelical Debates during the Long Eighteenth Century (Göttingen, Germany: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2018).

316   ivor j. davidson 29. John McLeod Campbell, The Nature of the Atonement, new ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1996). 30. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4 vols. in 13 parts, ed. G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1956–1975).

Bibliography Asselt, Willem  J.  van, ed., Introduction to Reformed Scholasticism. With T.  Theo  J.  Pleizier, Pieter L. Rouwendal, and Maarten Wisse. Translated by Albert Gootjes. Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2011. Beck, Andreas J. “God, Creation, and Providence in Post-Reformation Reformed Theology.” In The Oxford Handbook of Early Modern Theology, 1600–1800, edited by Ulrich L. Lehner, Richard A. Muller, and A. G. Roeber, 195–212. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016. Coffey, John, and Paul C. H. Lim, eds. The Cambridge Companion to Puritanism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008. Dixon, Philip. “Nice and Hot Disputes”: The Doctrine of the Trinity in the Seventeenth Century. London and New York: T&T Clark, 2003. Ellis, Brannon. Calvin, Classical Trinitarianism, and the Aseity of the Son. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012. Fesko, John V. The Covenant of Redemption: Origins, Development, and Reception. Göttingen, Germany: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2016. Jones, Mark, and Michael  A.  G.  Haykin, eds. A New Divinity: Transatlantic Reformed Evangelical Debates during the Long Eighteenth Century. Göttingen, Germany: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 2018. Lillback, Peter A. The Binding of God: Calvin’s Role in the Development of Covenant Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2001. Lim, Paul C. H. Mystery Unveiled: The Crisis of the Trinity in Early Modern England. New York: Oxford University Press, 2012. Muller, Richard  A. After Calvin: Studies in the Development of a Theological Tradition. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Muller, Richard A. Christ and the Decree: Christology and Predestination in Reformed Theology from Calvin to Perkins. Rev. ed. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008. Muller, Richard A. Divine Will and Human Choice: Freedom, Contingency, and Necessity in Early Modern Reformed Thought. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2017. Muller, Richard  A. Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725. (2nd ed.). Vol. 1: Prolegomena to Theology. Vol. 3: The Divine Essence and Attributes. Vol. 4: The Triunity of God. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2003. Rehnman, Sebastian. “The Doctrine of God in Reformed Orthodoxy.” In A Companion to Reformed Orthodoxy, edited by Herman J. Selderhuis, 353–401. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2013. Selderhuis, Herman J., ed. A Companion to Reformed Orthodoxy. Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2013.

Chapter 19

The Doctr i n e of H um a n it y Marguerite Shuster

Introduction The doctrine of humanity has been a source of both power and contention and debate in North American Presbyterianism. On the one hand, its emphasis on the universal reign of sin in ordinary human life—however unpleasant to contemplate—has been widely credited as contributing to the establishment of a system of checks and balances, not just in the church, but also in the United States government: no one can escape the corrupting power of self-interest, so multiple counterbalancing viewpoints must be ­represented. On the other hand, by ironic contrast, its affirmation of human dignity has raised recurring questions, contributing to a continuing sequence of denominational splits, over how that dignity should be understood. Does it extend to slaves? To opening all church offices and societal positions to women? To extending rights of marriage and ordination to homosexual people? What does it mean for divorce, abortion, birth control, suicide, euthanasia, and capital punishment? The conclusions of scientific research have had bearing not only on these matters but also, of course, on the question of human origins, and, increasingly, on whether humans should be understood monistically (as physical beings whose “spiritual” qualities result from physical processes) or, as has traditionally been the case, dualistically (as beings with souls as well as bodies, however inseparably these may be bound together in earthly life).1 Contemporary questions of these sorts engage specialists and lead to much probing of how biblical texts should be interpreted, both in the light of scientific data, and in view of their literary genre and of the overall biblical message. Meanwhile, Presbyterian laypeople of all stripes, and not a few clergy, stray far from traditional Presbyterian convictions about the sharp limits of human free will and operate from what they see as common-sense convictions about their full freedom of choice even with respect to the most fundamental commitments of faith. We remain deeply conflicted about who we are and about how our nature bears on our responsibilities.

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Human Dignity Human dignity, grounded in the conviction that people are uniquely made in the image of God, is a nonnegotiable starting point for the doctrine of humanity in Presbyterianism. In John Calvin’s words, God’s creation of humans is the “loftiest proof of divine ­wisdom.”2 If humans’ fundamental dignity is denied, questions about the extent of sin and of freedom lose their bite: we do not attribute moral choice and responsibility to animals. Just how, though, did such creatures come to be? In the second half of the nineteenth century, commitment to the uniqueness of humans, along with a literalistic reading of Genesis 1, quickly led to deep doubts about, and sometimes outright rejection of, the theory of evolution,3 a rejection that ongoing scientific discoveries have made increasingly hard to defend. Furthermore, scholarly analysis of Genesis 1 suggests that it was not intended to be a strictly historical or scientific document in the modern sense. In any case, the theologically critical issue is not the precise biological path by which a creature becomes capable of being addressed by and responding to God, but rather that such a creature exists. Indeed, one may construe it to be not the development of a set of physical characteristics but rather the sovereign act of personal address by God that constituted the first humans as human (Gen. 1:28). Male and female are equally addressed and are given equal dignity and tasks in the first creation narrative. Understanding what it means to be human requires taking both genders into account. Theologians have long agreed about the fundamental unity of all humankind, traditionally, though not always today, understood in terms of monogenism (decent from a single root). This unity means that matters of race and ethnicity are, theologically as well as biologically, trivial with respect to human nature, however important they have been socially and politically. All humans can intermarry; all humans have the same nature and suffer the same devastation by sin.4 All humans bear the divine image and have the same dignity. Precisely what constitutes this divine image, though, has been the subject of ongoing debate. Since God is spirit, physical interpretations should be ruled out, a judgment reinforced by the strong Old Testament prohibitions against idolatry, involving the making and worshipping of physical images.5 Connecting the image with the role of dominion over the rest of creation was seen at least as early as Calvin as important but inadequate,6 because what equips a creature to exercise dominion?7 As Paul Jewett expresses it, we understand babies to bear God’s image, but they do not yet exercise dominion.8 Certain spiritual and abstract intellectual capacities, including self-­ consciousness, have been most emphasized in the discussion;9 yet the distinctiveness of many of them has been challenged by research into the capacities of animals; and the image must not be defined in ways that call into question the full human dignity of the intellectually handicapped. Still, the dominance of the human species as a whole is very evident. Humans’ artistic and creative capacities, their apparently universal religious instincts (even as manifested in pagan idolatry),10 their sense of honor, their conscience,

the doctrine of humanity   319 and especially their self-transcendence all suggest something special about them. But what? Is it the combination of their attributes or one of them in particular that is essential to the image?11 That the exact nature of the image remains mysterious may be fitting, given that humans, being finite, cannot fully comprehend the nature of God and therefore cannot fully know what it is to be in God’s image. Nor can they even know what true humanity is when, looking at themselves, all they can see is marred by sin. Significantly, then, the New Testament points to Jesus, who is at once, as all Christians confess, true human and true God, as the image of God (1 Cor. 15:49; 2 Cor. 4:4; Col. 1:15; Heb. 1:3; see also Rom. 8:29): we will not fully know who we are until we are transformed to be, after our own measure as creatures, like him.12 Meanwhile, we have duties relating to our uniqueness that we only dimly understand, including work and care for the rest of creation, which are positive creation ordinances. Presbyterians emphasize that the proper exercise of these duties, however much they entail specifically human prerogatives, involves recognition of our subordinate status, as well as of our dignity: we are creatures, not God. We may not properly act independently, so as to flout God’s law, character, or self-revelation in Jesus. That means, for example, that “dominion” may not rightly be understood as destructive domination and a ravaging of the natural world God said was good; rather, it is an exercise of benevolent rule as God intends. Indeed, we are deeply dependent on all the lesser creatures and must attend wisely to them. Exercising faithful stewardship has been an abiding Presbyterian emphasis. So, also, has been the conviction that any honorable work, not just religious work, may be a legitimate calling and done to glorify God13—a conviction that has tended to foster Presbyterians’ historic work ethic and consequent economic success. Although we are deeply dependent on God and on the lower orders of creation to carry out our labors, we are dependent also on one another. That it is not good for us to be alone is a truth first warmly affirmed in the male-female relationship (Gen. 2:18–25). Presbyterians have long appreciated conjugal intimacy as an intrinsic and not only instrumental good (and most Presbyterians actively support the use of contraception).14 Traditionally, however, Christians have not appreciated the equality of the genders implicit in Genesis 1:27 and 28 and Galatians 3:28, or affirmed that obvious physical differences do not involve a hierarchy of value or delimit appropriate roles in home and society—a point that is certainly applicable beyond the realm of gender relations. Gradually, the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) (PC(USA)), has come to see suitable roles for both men and women in terms of gifts and calling rather than simply in terms of biology; though several more-conservative Presbyterian branches continue to prohibit women from serving as pastors or elders and insist that women should normally be in positions subordinate to men, especially in marriage. Dependence on one another obviously extends far beyond relationships between the sexes, pointing us away from crass individualism to the essential character of community for our true humanity. Celibacy and singleness are honorable Christian options, but they ought not to involve aloofness from human society: we cannot develop normally as human beings in isolation. Even accepting overblown contemporary emphases on

320   marguerite shuster “taking care of ourselves” may violate the way we are constituted as social creatures. Our responsibilities to others extend not only to our own families, but to the larger human family; these responsibilities lead us into the realms of public action and social justice and to care for the vulnerable and disadvantaged. Presbyterians generally recognize that political structures shape human living. The social concerns of majority-world Presbyterians, which have sometimes taken creedal form, have helped accentuate the threats from and hopes engendered by such structures.15 Presbyterians agree that Christians may not responsibly neglect the welfare of humans who are not like them in convictions, culture, race, or privileges even when they disagree on political specifics. Unfortunately, more particular implications of human dignity have been among the most divisive questions for North American Presbyterians, from the time of the split into northern and southern denominations at the time of the Civil War, to later fractures over the ordination of women and practicing homosexuals, with the interpretation and weight to be given to particular biblical texts playing a large role in the debates. By contrast, deep feelings about the implications of the preciousness of human life as connected with abortion, euthanasia, capital punishment, and war have produced much debate and many documents and reports but no major defections from the PC(USA). Why the passion provoked by economics, gender, and sexuality has produced denominational splits, while concerns about matters of life and death, however complicated they may be, have not, is worth pondering.

Human Misery As we reflect on human dignity, we become sharply aware of how deeply broken humanity is. Even if we did not feel guilt and shame at our own inclinations and behavior—feelings that appear to be universal in normal people—it is difficult to miss the disruptions in human society, from the pettiest to the most egregious, brutal, and violent. Indeed, we can say much more about human sinfulness than about human goodness, for the only life we know is one marked by sin. If humans were originally constituted good by God, created in God’s own image, how can this universal brokenness have arisen? Theologians have traditionally agreed that the entrance of evil into a world created good is an impenetrable mystery. Many have held that even the attempt somehow to rationalize evil, instead of seeing it as absurd, is a mistake that violates its very nature by providing a reason for its existence.16 All theologically orthodox theologians have declined to attribute it to the perfectly holy God. Nor can human finitude be blamed for evil, because the existence of boundaries does not force one to cross them. The account of the Fall in Genesis 3 leaves the mystery of the inner source, the turn of the human will leading to defection from God, intact. However, it makes clear that the consequences of this defection are grave and universal, symbolized by the universality of death—both physical death and spiritual death resulting from a broken relationship

the doctrine of humanity   321 with God. The account also conveys, via the symbol of the serpent (identified in the New Testament with Satan), that evil did not originate in humankind but somehow presented itself as an option, an option to choose for oneself, against the explicit command of God. Presbyterians have not, like proponents of some other traditions, generally identified the tempting impulse with sensuality, with the so-called lower or bodily impulses of humankind, which are innocent in themselves but destructive when they gain the ascendance; indeed, they have not located it in their bodily, physical nature at all, or in the material nature of the creation that God called good.17 As Presbyterian theologian Kelly Kapic says, “Our bodies were meant to foster communion and love rather than undermine them.”18 (“Flesh” in the New Testament frequently has an ethical more than a physical connotation.) Presbyterians have emphasized pride and unbelief rather than sensuality as the cause of sin. This pride is demonstrated in the desire to be like God, in deciding upon good and evil for ourselves (in the words of Presbyterian theologian Shirley Guthrie, “to be like what we think God is and would be if we were God”19), and unbelief is shown in flouting the divine command and failing to take the threatened consequences seriously. That is to say, Presbyterians have understood sin to enter in at the level of humanity’s greatest distinctiveness and highest gifts, and they have noted that sin, since it is a power, is regularly strongest in the greatest of people, not in the weakest.20 Worse yet, sin clearly has affected and continues to spring forth in everyone, those commonly praised as saints and those scorned as sinners. Why is sin universal if it has no universal cause? Presbyterians have most commonly attributed the universality of sin less to some putative physical transmission of a flaw from our first parents, as if a genuinely moral flaw could be physically transmitted, or to the effects of a corrupt environment, than to God’s decision to impute or reckon the sin of the first humans to their descendants. Presbyterian theologians observed early that “Adam” (also “Eve,” whom they largely neglected in this context) in the biblical narrative reveals even by his name that he is to be taken as a public person, “Adam” meaning “humankind” (and “Eve” meaning “mother of all living”).21 They also noted that the biblical language of the reckoning of Adam’s guilt to his descendants closely parallels the language of the reckoning of Christ’s righteousness to those who trust in him (e.g., Rom. 5:18); neither instance of reckoning is a matter of desert on the part of those receiving it, and one can hardly argue against the justice of the one without impugning the justice of the other. God’s decision is at the root of both22—and divine sovereignty, with the acknowledged mysteries that attend it, is a hallmark of Presbyterian belief. This corruption that affects and infects all humans from their infancy is called original sin (the term is also used for the first sin of Adam and Eve, but the former usage is the more common), which Reformed theologian Reinhold Niebuhr wryly and famously affirmed to be the one doctrine of the Christian faith that is empirically verifiable.23 No one escapes it, as can be seen by the fact that peoples of all cultures and varied customs break their own laws, however different these laws may in certain respects be (Rom. 3:22). Politicians count on our deep, visceral self-centeredness to regularly trump larger concerns for the neighbor, the environment, the disadvantaged.

322   marguerite shuster Presbyterians characteristically understand original sin as involving total, or radical, depravity; the latter term is better, for it points to the root as being corrupt, and thus to depravity as extending to every human faculty. The doctrine does not mean that any human being is as bad as he or she could be. This assertion is obviously untrue and even Calvin and his sternest followers did not believe it, despite some overwrought ­sentences.24 It simply means that there is no Archimedean point of purity from which anyone can gain leverage to save him- or herself. Our best deeds as well as our worst are infected by sin, as evident in the flash of pride and desire for recognition or reward that may accompany them. Moreover, the tendency of those obsessed with pursuing their own righteousness to become harsh and punitive toward others is a commonplace. Our essential humanity is not destroyed by original sin, nor is it permanently deprived of some special gift that enabled Adam and Eve to be righteous;25 rather, human nature as a whole is twisted, out-of-joint, unable to reach its proper end. In fact, one of the primary New Testament terms for sin means “missing the mark.” Affirming original sin and radical depravity entails distinguishing “sin” (singular) from “sins” (plural). The former is the endemic disposition, present from birth, from which the latter in all their variety and gradations of heinousness spring. This disposition or condition must be distinguished from sickness or disability, which would relieve sufferers from responsibility insofar as their weakness was determined at the physical level. We do not blame a person with Down Syndrome for failing to persevere at his math homework. Most people do, however, instinctively blame themselves for laziness in such a case, just as they blame themselves for evil, lustful, envious, unworthy impulses that spring up seemingly unbidden from their own hearts: they know that these impulses are their own, however ashamed of them they may be. Jesus lays the fault of bad fruit on a bad tree (Matt. 7:15–20) and attributes wicked thoughts and deeds to a misshapen heart (Mark 7:20–23). The acts and impulses show what the ­person is: a sinner. Sinners, at least if they survive to the age of accountability, sin, some more, some less, even as bad trees bear bad fruit. While one may legitimately speak of matters of degree, Presbyterians do not differentiate (as do Roman Catholics) so-called venial sins, which are understood not to impair fatally one’s relationship with God, from mortal ones, which do. Rather, all sin shows a person’s state of alienation from God’s will and way. Because Presbyterians, like those in the Reformed tradition generally, affirm the ongoing claim of God’s Law as a manifestation of his design for human behavior and wellbeing, they count as sinful whatever breaks that Law (another prominent word for sin in the New Testament means “lawlessness”).26 The worst sins, though, despite popular stereotypes, are not the “hot” ones like wrath, lust, and gluttony; rather, they are the “cold” ones like pride, malice, cruelty, envy—the sins springing from the corruption of our “higher” faculties. Idolatry—putting something else in God’s place—is a particularly serious threat. The best gifts, corrupted, do the most harm. The yet more profound truth is that it is not those we see as egregious sinners who feel their sin most acutely, for their consciences are often hardened. It is instead those with the keenest sense of what they

the doctrine of humanity   323 are called to be, and of the faults they have been forgiven, who see the depth of their own sin most clearly. Such people know that sin is always against God first and foremost. Sins may be distinguished from crimes, which may or may not be sins. It may have been a crime, but not a sin, to harbor a runaway slave in antebellum America. It may be a sin, but not a crime, to drink oneself into a stupor when alone in the privacy of one’s own home. And while sickness is not itself sin, it may result from one’s sins or the sins of others, as when one contracts an infectious disease from immoral behavior, or votes to put a toxic waste dump in one’s neighbors’ backyard. Sins are acts that violate God’s will and our and our neighbors’ true humanity. They inevitably destroy, not enhance, human life.

Human Freedom If we are sinners from our birth, unable to restore ourselves to our proper dignity, how can we be said to be free agents who are responsible for our behavior, as we instinctively feel ourselves to be, and as Christians have always taught? Are we not caught in a hopeless contradiction? All North American Presbyterianism,27 with the exception of the two small Cumberland denominations, has at least formally affirmed an Augustinian understanding of human freedom—a take on our humanity that, like total depravity, is widely misunderstood and is widely rejected by many on seemingly commonsense but nonetheless philosophically and theologically insufficient grounds. Even the most robust Calvinist affirms that “whosoever will may come” (Rev. 22:17) and that we may do as we will. The question, and the great divide, is how we become willing. That question is more mysterious than it sounds, and it perhaps becomes more so as neuroscientists and many philosophers argue for a monistic, physicalistic view of human beings, insofar as strict physicalism suggests strict causal determinism.28 Presbyterians, like other Calvinists, have always denied that human beings are ­ineluctably determined by fate or by physical causes. If they were, it would be meaningless to speak of human freedom and responsibility. Determinisms of these kinds relieve humans of responsibility for their actions and, if absolute, make nonsense of categories like guilt and virtue. Presbyterians have also, however, denied the (officially heretical) Pelagian idea that, except for bad environmental influences, we all find ourselves in the position of Adam and Eve, with the same intrinsic ability to choose what is right and good; similarly, Presbyterians deny that ability is the measure of obligation (“I ought, therefore I can,” as Immanuel Kant later put it). Moreover, they have repudiated the milder Arminian position that, while grace is necessary in order for a sinner to turn to God, such grace is offered to all, and each person may and must choose whether to accept it. The crux of the matter is whether we are strongly determined by our own character, and hence by our own motives. Is it possible that, given exactly the same circumstances (and concerning a matter with some moral significance

324   marguerite shuster rather than, say, a momentary hankering for berry rather than apple pie29), we might in one case freely choose to act one way, and another time choose to do the opposite? And that this choice is determined by nothing but our bare will? Such freedom has been called the power of contrary choice, or the freedom of indifference; and it is the hallmark of Arminian positions. Those following Augustine deny that freedom of this kind is possible, for in matters of any significance, our wills follow our motives, and our motives are firmly shaped by who we are. Furthermore, and critically, as Presbyterian theologian Archibald  A.  Hodge argued, “The very essence of virtue is, that it obliges the will. Moral indifferency of disposition in [the] presence of any moral obligation is an impossibility, because it is itself sin.”30 We nonetheless experience ourselves as acting freely; we see our acts as our own precisely because they are expressions of our own character, not acts our circumstances or the purposes of others force us to do, even if such circumstances and purposes place us under enormous pressure. Only if we are temporarily or permanently destroyed as moral agents—say, by extremes of torture, drugs, or a brain tumor—do we see ourselves as lacking choice. Apart from such overwhelming constraints, we sense that we sin apart from external necessity, even though it is certain that we will sin, given that we have inherent sinful predilections. A thoughtful, honest person contemplating a significant moral failure sees clearly that she could have done things differently. No one forced her to sin. Yet she may recognize that, put in precisely the same situation, she would do the same thing again. Her actions are determined, not from the outside, but by who she is. At that point, she sees the depth of her moral ruin and her helplessness apart from divine grace, but she cannot deny her freedom. This helplessness is universal. Despite our astonishing technical and scientific ­progress, humanity has not made moral progress. Utopian schemes always fail. So do small-scale social remediations and large-scale political transformations. We appear unremittingly to underestimate the human potential for evil. Pessimistic though this appraisal sounds, it points us to the one source of help. As Calvin contended, quoting Augustine, “What we need is true confession, not false defenses.”31

Human Hope Given human bondage to sin, hope does not lie in New Year’s resolutions, motivational speakers, advice columnists, or even relentlessly moralistic preachers, however vigorously we might pursue these offerings. “The final human predicament, the bondage of the will,” Presbyterian theologian John Leith asserted, “is that the self-centered self cannot become God-centered by trying hard.”32 If it could, we might expect to see a little more expansion of virtue in our world, or in pockets of it. Nor does hope lie in desperate attempts to increase our self-esteem in the face of our manifest failures. Clinging to robust views of radical freedom is hollow in the face of overwhelming evidence that increased technical and scientific capacities enlarge the potential scope of destruction at

the doctrine of humanity   325 least as fast as they enable positive progress, even in the practical realm, much less the moral. Even the most earnest efforts to keep God’s Law crash on the rocky shoals of humans’ despoiled nature. In the face of such realities, our “I’d rather do it myself; I’d rather decide for myself ” predilections sound suspiciously like the fault in the ancient Garden—the pride that is our downfall. Humans are said to be dead in sin (Eph. 2:1), in need of being born again, or from above (Jn. 3:7), in need of a new heart (Ezek. 36:26), unable to change their nature (Jer. 13:23), and enslaved and helpless apart from redemption (Jn. 8:34; Rom. 6 and 7). This biblical imagery is unremittingly strong: people cannot remedy any of these conditions by willpower or the best of intentions. Something must break in from outside of ourselves. Therefore, Presbyterians have seen human hope as resting exclusively upon the divine initiative—the grace of the God who works in us in order that we might will and work according to his purposes (Phil. 2:13). They pray that the Lord would enable them and others to do and be what they should, which would be unnecessary if they believed their intrinsic freedom enabled them to do even the good that they know and to which they aspire. Consequently, this grace that is needed and is sometimes actively requested must be efficacious—able to accomplish its purpose. Even if it enters in a hidden way by transforming motives, which we might construe as something like the giving of a new heart (the heart, in biblical language, is the source of intellect and will, not just emotions), the gracious initiative makes for a fundamental reorientation of the person. Something new and not of the person’s own doing has come to be, something that is the sovereign work of the Holy Spirit. However, their affirmation of such radical and effectual grace has not made perfectionists of Presbyterians; they do not believe that humans can be free of sin, or even of “known sin,” as some chastened proponents of perfectionism have put it, in this life.33 While new possibilities for good do come, the old corruption remains and struggles against sin continue. Presbyterians have historically insisted that renewing grace or further enablement after an initial step cannot in any sense be deserved or earned by “cooperation” with prior grace; grace is always the absolutely free gift of God. As Calvin put it, “Grace anticipates unwilling man that he may will; it follows him willing that he may not will in vain.”34 Thus, while they have continued to take God’s Law as making just, imperative demands on human behavior, Presbyterians have understood the human relationship to God’s Law as properly being a response—an act of gratitude to the God who has already reached out to them, not an initiative they take to earn divine favor.35 This conviction is strikingly evident in the structure of the Heidelberg Catechism, where the treatment of the Law, God’s demands, follows treatment of the human condition and God’s gracious initiative. It is those being renewed, not those trying to justify themselves, who makes right use of the Law, as it spurs them on and as it directs them in all the responsibilities of life.36 The full restoration of the divine image does not come, however, until we are transformed to be, after our human and creaturely measure, like Jesus (2 Cor. 3:18; 1 John 3:2). In fact, theologian Gayraud Wilmore even takes “human” to be something of a proleptic category.37 Thus, as Daniel Migliore suggests, this hope points

326   marguerite shuster us to openness to God’s future, our purpose and destiny as created and redeemed, “to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever,” as the well-known answer to the first question of the Westminster Shorter Catechism teaches.38

Trajectories One way of thinking about the trajectory of the PC(USA) is to consider its confessional standards, once limited to the Westminster Standards, but now including a number of other confessions and catechisms, from the earliest (the Nicene Creed and Apostles’ Creed) to the most recent (the Belhar, added to the Book of Confessions in 2016). (Many of the more conservative Presbyterian denominations that have split from the PC(USA) adhere to the Westminster Standards alone.) The confessions and catechisms originating in the Reformation and immediately post-Reformation eras provide the most detailed foundation of a Reformed view of humanity, including basic dignity, the disastrous extent of sin, and human moral inability (the limits of human freedom). Later ­confessions do not deny this fundamental view, though other church standards of ­government may now allow women and homosexual persons to be ordained. Later confessional documents, however, emphasize quite different issues. The Barmen Declaration of 1934, for instance, accentuates the long-standing Presbyterian concern for the sin of idolatry in the political context of German National Socialism: no political order may properly arrogate to itself the loyalties due to God alone. The Confession of 1967 contains a groundbreaking section on “Reconciliation in Society” that highlights sins of racism and the failure to pursue peace among nations, as manifested in the dangers of increasingly destructive weaponry, gross economic injustice, and problems in the relationship of men and women.39 The Brief Statement of Faith, adopted in 1991, utilizes inclusive language and warns that human sin threatens to destroy the planet. The Belhar Confession also highlights the ongoing scourge of racism. Thus, the more recent confessions increasingly emphasize threats to human dignity and even survival. The PC(USA) has affirmed the equal worth and privileges and roles of all races, both genders, and homosexual persons.40 Furthermore, confessional statements of majorityworld Presbyterian denominations have tended to emphasize matters related to human dignity and social and political imperatives, as has the work of prominent Brazilian Presbyterian Rubem Alves.41 However, though racism is virtually universally rejected, many Presbyterian denominations, as well as individual congregations, continue to believe in limited roles for women and to consider homosexual practice to prohibit holding ordained pastoral or lay offices. Presbyterianism has clearly moved in the direction of affirming that full human ­dignity involves full inclusiveness in the life and leadership of the church. It also has increasingly stressed that sin has structural, not simply individual, moral aspects. In our ever more interconnected, volatile, and environmentally threatened world, we must not constrict our moral concern to a focus on people’s bedroom behavior.

the doctrine of humanity   327 However, these emphases also bring risks of espousing new determinisms that undercut human freedom far more devastatingly than the classic Augustinian view of human moral inability has ever been perceived to do. When the category of sin is replaced by a biological determinism or by the category of sickness, it raises the questions of what precisely needs to be “cured,” by whom, and how—or, alternatively, robs us of the ability to identify what genuinely is destructive of human life and to seek to minister healing in such situations. If it is replaced by a political, structural determinism, who may arrogate to him- or herself the calling to replace the defective structure by whatever means may be seen as necessary? The history of totalitarian “remedies” should not give us confidence in such endeavors. Moreover, the peculiar power inherent both in human sexuality and in the lust for  money, sometimes seen as “merely” individual issues, can produce a chain of ­consequences that extend far beyond the individual. These consequences are amplified in an ever more connected world of pornography on demand, international sex ­tourism, offshore bank accounts, and self-interested manipulation of financial markets. Presbyterians must not, therefore, simply switch their moral focus from the individual to the social. Sin in both its individual and its structural aspects both shapes and is shaped by individual behavior. When we turn to the power of scientific discovery, we observe that Presbyterians have over time generally bowed to the findings of science in most arenas. They have respected all truth as fundamentally God’s truth, even as pagan virtues are to be affirmed and understood as free manifestations of God’s mercy.42 The power to gain knowledge is itself seen as a good gift of God, which has led Presbyterians to demand an educated clergy and to found many educational institutions. No doubt Presbyterian beliefs will continue to be shaped by scientific advances, though Presbyterians might do well to keep in mind Calvin’s warning that those who, “praising nature . . . suppress God’s name as far as they can.”43 Science cannot be a final arbiter in matters of human dignity, freedom, sin, and moral responsibility precisely because judgments on these things involve realms that go beyond scientific competence.44 Yes, the rather assured results of science may be convincing to most educated people with respect to matters of, say, evolution; and these data may raise questions about traditional pictures of humanity’s origin. However, they do not and cannot tell us whether or how God has bestowed on humanity unique dignity and responsibility. It is doubtful that science can determine with certainty in favor of monism (physicalism, in this case), denying anything but an emergent or epiphenomenal character to what the Scriptures speak of as soul or spirit, generally seen as essential to our relationship to God. The point is not to denigrate the body, which Scripture does not do, but to recognize the complex mysteries of our consciousness of ourselves and of God. At the very least, Presbyterians, like all Christians, affirm that the death of the body is not the end of God’s dealings with us; even while they anticipate the resurrection of the body. Also, even if various conditions are found to be “hardwired” by biology or strongly determined by a combination of biology and environment, that does not tell us whether to place them on the side of creation or Fall, though it does deprive them of any unique or especially perverse status.45

328   marguerite shuster That we are all, by our fallen nature, sinners, children of wrath (Eph. 2:3) does not make our condition blameless. In any case, an implacable mechanistic determinism does not present a more encouraging picture of human prospects than does the decision of a just God; as Charles Hodge put it long ago, “Who would not rather be governed by a Father than by a tornado?”46—assuming, of course, that one does not doubt the biblically revealed character of this Father. It is critical, then, that Presbyterians, in their understanding of humanity, keep together classic convictions both about human dignity and about the depth of human sinfulness and human helplessness apart from grace, lest we fall into despair, or mere instrumentalism, or frank hubris in seeking to achieve by main force the goals we value. In affirming our dignity, Presbyterians might well accentuate the preciousness of all human life to ensure that this fundamental belief not be subtly undercut by rationalistic cost-benefit calculations. Arguing that certain lives, under certain circumstances (such as the very young, very old, very ill, and very disabled), do not have a claim for protection can set us on a dangerous and slippery course; though surely compassion is called for in the terrible ethical dilemmas too often involved in such cases. On the side of our misery, we may find, curiously enough, that it is precisely in the category of “sinner” that we may find our surest hope, for it is sinners, not the supposedly righteous, whom Jesus came to call and to transform (Mark 2:17). Those who see that they cannot save themselves may be moved to look to the One who can save them. Those who see that all are afflicted by sin and will act accordingly will have clear vision of the depth of social, political, and environmental threats facing the world, and will not think they should aspire forcefully to bring in the Kingdom under their own power, even as they are motivated to give their most earnest and self-sacrificial efforts to be obedient to the Lord in all of these arenas.47 Insofar as cultural pressures move Presbyterians away from this classic understanding of humanity, they threaten rather than enhance Presbyterians’ potential contribution in our common human predicament.

Notes 1. Affirmations of dualism extend from Calvin, who said the matter “ought to be beyond controversy.” John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 1.15.2. More recently, see, for example, Paul K. Jewett, Who We Are: Our Dignity as Human, with Marguerite Shuster (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1996), 30–46. John H. Leith observes that the relationship between them is not agreed upon in contemporary science and philosophy. John  H.  Leith, Basic Christian Doctrine (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993), 112. At the least, as George S. Hendry says, God’s purpose for us is not over at our death. George S. Hendry, The Westminster Confession for Today (Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1960), 66. 2. Calvin, Institutes, 1.5.3. 3. One finds such doubts in, among many other Presbyterians, Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, vol. 2 (1872; repr. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1981), 11–41; and, at least as late as John Murray, The Collected Writings of John Murray, vol. 2 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1977), 11.

the doctrine of humanity   329 4. For classic statements of this affirmation, see Hodge, Systematic Theology, vol. 2, chap. 4; Archibald Alexander Hodge, Commentary on the Confession of Faith (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1869), 123–124. 5. For example, Daniel  L.  Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1991), 121. 6. Calvin, Institutes, 1.15.4. 7. Murray, Collected Writings, 2:41. 8. Jewett, Who We Are, 351. 9. For example, Archibald Alexander Hodge, Outlines of Theology (New York: Robert Carter and Bros., 1863), 224; and Gordon Clark, What Presbyterians Believe: An Exposition of the Westminster Confession (Philadelphia: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1956), 19. 10. Calvin, Institutes, 1.3.1. 11. For discussion rejecting single attributes, see Shirley C. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, rev. ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994), 194–203. 12. See, for example, Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 195–198. 13. See Leith, Basic Christian Doctrine, 114; and Leith, The Reformed Imperative: What the  Church Has to Say That No One Else Can Say (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1988), 61. 14. See the 2012 Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) General Assembly Resolution on Reproductive Health, “On Providing Just Access to Reproductive Health Care” (item 21-03). https:// www.presbyterianmission.org/wp-content/uploads/res_on_reproductive_health_care_ access.pdf 15. For example, the explicitly Marxist-Leninist Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Reformed Church in Cuba, in Jaroslav Pelikan and Valerie Hotchkiss, eds., Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Christian Tradition, vol. 3 (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003), 762–781; see also the Creed of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Chile, in Pelikan and Hotchkins, 842–843. For a sympathetic North American treatment of liberation theology, including its way of understanding people, see Robert McAfee Brown, Liberation Theology (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1993). 16. For example, Marguerite Shuster, The Fall and Sin: What We Have Become as Sinners (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2004), 43; see also Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 78–79; and Leith, Basic Christian Doctrine, 107. 17. For example, Hendry, Westminster Confession for Today, 63. 18. Kelly M. Kapic, “Anthropology,” in Christian Dogmatics: Reformed Theology for the Church Catholic, ed. Michael Allen and Scott R. Swain (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic 2016), 175. 19. Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 218. 20. Hodge, Systematic Theology, 2:137. 21. For example, Hodge, Outlines of Theology, 240; Hodge, Commentary on the Confession of Faith, 156. 22. Calvin, Institutes, 2.1.6, 7. For a concise summary of the variety of Presbyterian views on the precise nature of this reckoning, see Benjamin Warfield, “Imputation,” in The Complete Works of Benjamin B. Warfield, vol. 9: Studies in Theology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1932). Oliver Crisp takes up the debate in Retrieving Doctrine: Essays in Reformed Theology (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 2010), chap. 3. 23. Reinhold Niebuhr, Man’s Nature and His Communities (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1965), 24. This statement is widely attributed to Niebuhr, though here he is quoting with approval from the London Times Literary Supplement.

330   marguerite shuster 2 4. For example, Institutes, 2.2.25, 2.3 heading, and 2.3.2. See also the Westminster Confession, 4.4. 25. That is, Presbyterians do not affirm the Roman Catholic idea of a donum superadditum (superadded gift), over and above the divine image itself, that enabled the proper ordering of human impulses but was lost in the Fall. For example, Murray, Collected Writings, 2:44. 26. The Heidelberg Catechism, Westminster Shorter, and Westminster Larger all contain expositions of the Decalogue. 27. Compatible positions are found among Presbyterians elsewhere, of course, including in the majority world. Brazilian theologian Rubem Alves emphasizes that human freedom is grounded finally in God’s freedom (Rubem Alves, A Theology of Human Hope [New York: Corpus Books, 1969], passim); and the Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Reformed Church in Cuba affirms that human freedom is not “the ‘free will’ of the philosophers,” but “responsible, voluntary, and conscious obedience of the divine will” (Pelikan and Hotchkiss, Creeds and Confessions of Faith, 3:768). 28. One may reasonably question whether the idea of a “non-reductive physicalism” is finally coherent. For a contrasting view, see Warren Brown, Nancey Murphy, and H.  Newton Maloney, Whatever Happened to the Soul: Scientific and Theological Portraits of Human Nature (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1998). 29. Murray calls the latter “alternative” as opposed to “contrary” choice, meaning “the choice between alternatives that are ethically of the same character.” Murray, Collected Writings, 2:63. 30. Hodge, Outlines of Theology, 226. For a cogent extended critique of freedom understood as the power of contrary choice, see Hodge, Systematic Theology, 2:282–309. 31. Calvin, Institutes, 2.2.11. 32. Leith, Basic Christian Doctrine, 107. 33. See, for example, the Scots Confession, 3.15; the Second Helvetic Confession, IX; the Westminster Confession, 4.3; and Hendry, Westminster Confession for Today, 84, 127. 34. Calvin, Institutes, 2.3.12. 35. William Placher, A History of Christian Theology (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983), 221. 36. See Jack Rogers, Presbyterian Creeds: A Guide to the Book of Confessions (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1985), 108–109. 37. Gayraud S. Wilmore, Black and Presbyterian: The Heritage and the Hope (Philadelphia: Geneva Press, 1983), 23. 38. See Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 128–129. 39. See Rogers, Presbyterian Creeds, 221. 40. Benton Johnson documents the increasing concern for social issues, including matters of gender, sexuality, and racism. See Benton Johnson, “From Old to New Agendas: Presbyterians and Social issues in the Twentieth Century,” in The Confessional Mosaic: Presbyterians and Twentieth-Century Theology, ed. Milton J Coalter, John M. Mulder, and Louis B. Weeks (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1990), 208–235. 41. See the Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Reformed Church in Cuba, the Declaration of Faith of the Presbyterian Church in South Africa, and the Creed of the Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Chile, in Pelikan and Hotchkiss, Creeds and Confessions of Faith, vol. 3, pp. 762–781; p. 794; and pp. 42–43, respectively; and Alves, Theology of Human Hope. 42. Calvin, Institutes, 2.2.15–17, 2.3.3, 4. This understanding has been widely affirmed by  Presbyterians. See, for example, Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 193–194; and

the doctrine of humanity   331 Richard  J.  Mouw, He Shines in All That’s Fair: Culture and Common Grace (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2002). 43. Calvin, Institutes, 1.5.5. 44. See Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, 193–194. 45. As Leith comments with respect to homosexuality, in particular. Leith, Basic Christian Doctrine, 121. See also Jewett, Who We Are, 290–350. 46. Hodge, Systematic Theology, 2:301. 47. See Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, 135.

Bibliography Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960. Guthrie, Shirley  C. Christian Doctrine. Rev. ed. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994. Hendry, George S. The Westminster Confession for Today. Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1960. Hodge, Archibald Alexander. Commentary on the Confession of Faith. Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1869. Hodge, Archibald Alexander. Outlines of Theology. New York: Robert Carter and Bros., 1863. Hodge, Charles. Systematic Theology. Vol. 2. New York: Charles Scribner, 1872. Reprinted by William B. Eerdmans, Grand Rapids, MI, 1981. Jewett, Paul King. Who We Are: Our Dignity as Human. With Marguerite Shuster. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1996. Leith, John H. Basic Christian Doctrine. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1993. Leith, John H. The Reformed Imperative: What the Church Has to Say That No One Else Can Say. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1988. Migliore, Daniel L. Faith Seeking Understanding. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1991. Murray, John. The Collected Writings of John Murray. Vol. 2. Edinburgh: Banner of Truth Trust, 1977. Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (USA). Part 1: The Book of Confessions. Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2016. Rogers, Jack. Presbyterian Creeds: A Guide to the Book of Confessions. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1985. Shuster, Marguerite. The Fall and Sin: What We Have Become as Sinners. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2004.

Chapter 20

The Doctr i n e of  Chr ist William B. Evans

Introduction Presbyterian understandings of the person, work, and dogmatic significance of Jesus Christ have been shaped both by the Catholic tradition that preceded the Reformation and by the responses of Reformed theologians to challenges in the Reformation, postReformation, and post-Enlightenment contexts. Thus the term Presbyterian here embraces the Reformed tradition more broadly. Two concerns have been prominent in Reformed Christology since the sixteenth ­century. First, there is the desire to safeguard the integrity of Christ’s incarnate humanity, and here some knowledge of the early church is necessary.1 In brief, as patristic theology sought to understand how Christ can be both God and human and yet a single person, some emphasized the unity of the person (the integrative school of Alexandria often spoke of a single divine-human nature); others stressed the integrity of the divine and human natures to ensure that the incarnate humanity was not fundamentally changed by its union with deity (the more disjunctive school of Antioch, which spoke of two natures). The Council of Chalcedon in ad 451 mediated these disputes and with its creedal formulation of two natures—divine and human—in hypostatic union, sought to affirm what was best about both schools, asserting both the integrity of the divine and the human in Christ and the unity of his person. In its emphasis on the integrity of Christ’s humanity, the Reformed tradition has often tilted toward Antioch, whereas Lutherans, with their focus on the unity of Christ’s person, have been more sympathetic to Alexandrian concerns. Second, the Reformed tradition has followed John Calvin in assigning to Christ a major role in both the accomplishment and the application of salvation. The theme of “union with Christ”—the solidarity of the Christian with Christ by faith and the Holy Spirit—is often central to Presbyterian understandings of salvation. As the nineteenth-century

334   william b. evans Reformed historian of doctrine Heinrich Heppe noted, this union with Christ lies at “the root of the whole doctrine of the appropriation of salvation,” and so the Reformed “dogmaticians discuss it with special emphasis.”2 Moreover, this theme has influenced Reformed understandings of the church and sacraments, for the church is viewed as the body of Christ, and the sacraments, as instruments mediating this union with Christ.

The Reformation Period The earliest “Reformed” impulse emerges from Zurich, Switzerland, in the 1520s, where the leader of its Reformation, Ulrich Zwingli, came to markedly different Christological emphases and sacramental theology than his contemporary Martin Luther. Zwingli affirmed the Chalcedonian Christology, and he insisted that the distinction of natures must be preserved: “His divine nature has not in any way been diminished so as not to be truly, properly and naturally God. Nor has his human nature passed into the divine so that he is not truly, properly and naturally man.”3 Each nature experiences and does the work appropriate to it: the human nature grew in wisdom and knowledge, and it hungers, thirsts, suffers, dies, and experiences alienation from God on the cross. The divine nature, on the other hand, is omnipresent and works miracles. Zwingli’s Christology has been criticized as Nestorian (Nestorius was a fifth-century heretic who failed to safeguard the unity of Christ’s person). Lutherans have contended that Zwingli reduced the unity of the person of Christ and the communication of attributes between his two natures to a merely linguistic phenomenon or manner of speaking (alloiosis). Twentieth-century Dutch Reformed theologian G. C. Berkouwer defines alloiosis as “the idea that, though one can say with words that the entire person has performed something, he still means that only one of the two natures has in reality performed it,” and this seems to be an accurate description of Zwingli’s view.4 John Calvin, born almost three decades after Luther and Zwingli, built on their efforts. Opposing Reformation-era anti-Trinitarians (most notably Michael Servetus and the Socinians) in his Institutes of the Christian Religion, Calvin endorsed the creedal Christology of the first four ecumenical councils.5 In his treatment of the two-natures doctrine, Calvin emphasized the close relationship between Christ’s person and work, arguing that the incarnation was necessary for Christ to serve as the mediator between God and human beings and to accomplish redemption. Like Zwingli, Calvin stressed the distinction of the two natures and insisted that Christ’s deity and humanity together form one person: his divinity is “so joined and united with his humanity that each retains its distinctive nature unimpaired, and yet these two natures constitute one Christ.”6 Calvin also utilized the patristic analogy between the human being as consisting of two substances—soul and body—and the two natures of Christ: “Neither is so mingled with the other as not to retain its own distinctive nature. For the soul is not the body and the body is not the soul.”7

the doctrine of christ   335 The distinction of Christ’s natures and unity of his person, upon which Calvin and the creedal tradition of the church insist, raise the question of a communication of attributes or proper qualities (communicatio idiomatum), an issue that quickly became a point of controversy between the Lutheran and Reformed traditions. Calvin appears to go beyond Zwingli in accepting the notion, but he carefully circumscribed it. The Scriptures “sometimes attribute to him what must be referred solely to his humanity, sometimes what belongs uniquely to his divinity; and sometimes what embraces both natures but fits neither alone. And they so earnestly express this union of the two natures that is in Christ as sometimes to interchange them.”8 Calvin contended that those who argue for the real communication of divine attributes to Christ’s humanity fail to do justice to the unity and role of the person, and that the attributes and experiences of Christ in his office as mediator are properly applied to his person.9 Later Reformed thinkers would further develop this emphasis. Calvin’s position on this point contrasts with that of Luther, who held that attributes of deity were actually communicated to Christ’s incarnate humanity.10 Thus Luther argued that the humanity of Christ was ubiquitous—a point central to his understanding of a local and physical presence of Christ’s body and blood in the Eucharist. Calvin, however, insisted that the integrity of Christ’s humanity must be preserved: “Let nothing inappropriate to the human nature be ascribed to his body, as happens when it is said to be infinite or to be put in a number of places at once.”11 From this concern to protect the integrity of Christ’s humanity and rejection of Luther’s doctrine of ubiquity comes a Christological principle known as the extra Calvinisticum (or “Calvinist extra”). Calvin taught that the infinite Logos is not circumscribed or contained by the incarnate humanity of Christ, so that even as Christ suffered on the cross, he was ruling as God over the cosmos.12 Lutherans have long contended that the extra Calvinisticum is a novelty and that Reformed theology is controlled by the dualistic philosophical conviction that the finite cannot contain the infinite. But E. David Willis has argued that the extra Calvinisticum is better viewed as the consensus of patristic and medieval theology and as an expression of the essential relationality of the divine and the human.13 Consistent with this focus on the integrity of Christ’s humanity, Calvin and much of the later Reformed tradition attribute the sanctification of Christ’s humanity, not to its incarnational union with the Logos, but to the work of the Holy Spirit. Addressing the problem of how Christ as the seed of the woman was preserved from the taint of original sin, the Reformer argues that Christ was “free of all stain” not only because of his ­ virginal conception but also because of the work of the Holy Spirit.14 Two major schemes for presenting the work of Christ predominated among Protestants in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries—the “threefold office” of Prophet, Priest, and King and the “two states” of humiliation and exaltation. Calvin’s treatment of the threefold office in the Institutes is relatively brief, and much of his discussion conforms to the humiliation-exaltation scheme, following the sequence of atonement, crucifixion, death and burial, descent into hell, resurrection, ascension, and

336   william b. evans heavenly session.15 Nevertheless, the threefold-office scheme became the dominant mode of discussing Christ’s work among many later Presbyterians.16 Calvin’s treatment of the atonement, while affirming penal substitution,17 also highlights other themes from Scripture and the Christian tradition—he insists that, despite divine wrath against sinners, the atonement arises out of divine love; he echoes Irenaeus’s contention that Christ’s entire life of obedience was redemptive, and he presents Christ’s death as a mighty victory over sin, death, and the devil.18 Although some later Presbyterians sought to excise the descent into hell from the Apostles’ Creed, Calvin defended the descent, which he interpreted as a metaphor for the spiritual sufferings of the cross.19 For Calvin (and much of the later Reformed tradition), the person of Christ is also central to the believer’s experience of salvation. The benefits of salvation must not be separated from Christ’s person: “As long as Christ remains outside of us, and we are separated from him, all that he has suffered and done for the salvation of the human race remains useless and of no value to us.”20 This union with Christ is not, however, an unmediated union with the divine—Reformed soteriology is better understood in terms of humanization than as deification or theosis. Rather, Calvin understood it as a union with the mediatorial humanity of Christ by faith and the Holy Spirit.21 This union with Christ then issues in what Calvin termed a “double grace” (duplex gratia) of the justification and transformation of life—convictions that shaped Calvin’s soteriology, sacramentology, and ecclesiology.22

Reformed Orthodoxy Reformed Orthodoxy was an international movement covering roughly two centuries that brought together patristic, medieval scholastic, and Reformation influences, and sought to systematize the theological fruits of the Reformation. In addition to a staunch defense of Chalcedonian orthodoxy, the Christology of the Reformed Orthodox period was also shaped by continuing debates with Lutherans and by the development of the covenant theme as an organizing theological principle. In their ongoing codification of Reformed doctrine, Orthodox theologians defended the Chalcedonian doctrine of two natures in hypostatic union and continued the Reformation-era polemic against anti-Trinitarians.23 Their debates with Lutherans over the communicatio idiomatum, however, broke new theological ground. Both groups affirmed the Chalcedonian creed, but Chalcedon primarily uses the language of negative theology—Christ is “to be acknowledged in two natures, without confusion, without change, without division, without separation”24— and these Lutheran-Reformed debates are rightly regarded as a significant chapter in the history of Christology. According to Lutheran theology, Christ’s “human nature has become partaker of the attributes of the divine nature, and therefore of its entire glory and majesty,” while

the doctrine of christ   337 “the contrary cannot be maintained, because the divine nature in its essence is unchangeable.”25 Thus Lutherans followed Luther in speaking of Christ’s humanity as ubiquitous because of its union with deity. Reformed objections to this were several. They claimed that the Lutheran view was incipiently Eutychian (Eutyches was a fifthcentury heretic who denied that Christ’s humanity was consubstantial with that of other human beings)—if Christ’s humanity takes on the infinite attributes of deity by becoming omnipresent, omnipotent, and omniscient, then it is no longer human in the commonly accepted sense. Reformed theologians also contended that the Lutheran view could neither account for the biblical portrayal of Jesus experiencing physical, moral, and intellectual development nor for Christ’s being gifted and empowered by the Holy Spirit.26 Three categories (genera) are particularly prominent in these Reformed-Lutheran discussions of the communication of attributes. In the genus idiomaticum the attributes particular to each nature are predicated of the divine-human person; thus, Christ is said to be almighty and omnipresent but also ignorant and susceptible to suffering and death. In the genus apotelesmaticum the work and mission of the God-man are attributed to both natures, and thus it is permissible to say that the Son of God died (although the doctrine of divine immutability teaches that God cannot suffer or die). The Lutheran tradition, however, went further with the genus majestaticum, which affirmed a real participation of Christ’s human nature in the divine majesty. Considerable sophistication is evident in the Reformed Orthodox critique of the genus majestaticum as they sharpened the traditional Reformed emphasis on the mediatorial person of Christ. More particularly, a distinction between an immediate, concrete union of the Person of the Logos and the human nature of Christ (a unio personalis) and an abstract union of natures mediated by the Holy Spirit informs Reformed discussions of the communication of attributes. With respect to the unio personalis, the communication of attributes is real, whereas with respect to the union of natures considered in the abstract, the “communication” is merely verbal. As the seventeenth-century Swiss Reformed scholastic Francis Turretin wrote, This communication is not only verbal, but is rightly called “real”; not indeed with respect to the natures (as if the properties of the one nature were really communicated to the other), but with respect to the person, which consists of two natures really unified and claims the properties of both for itself. For although the union of natures is real, it is not necessary that the properties of the natures should be communicated to each other in turn. It suffices that they be communicated to the whole subsisting substance on account of that union.27

Thus, the Reformed tradition has affirmed the real communication of attributes without a confusion of natures precisely by taking the concreteness of Christ’s person with such seriousness. Finally, the Christology of Reformed Orthodoxy was shaped by the continuing use of the covenant theme as an organizing principle, an influence especially evident in

338   william b. evans discussions of the work of Christ and the union between Christ and the Christian. Although Calvin and the early Zurich theologians presented the economy of salvation in terms of a single covenant of grace, the notion of covenant was by the latter part of the sixteenth century extended to the pre-Fall situation with a “covenant of works.” By the beginning of the seventeenth century, a bi-covenantal federal theology involving a prelapsarian covenant of works and a redemptive covenant of grace was widely accepted.28 Christ was seen as the “Mediator of the covenant of grace” and as the “substance” of the covenant who fulfills the requirements of the covenant of works by his active obedience and inaugurates the blessings of the covenant of grace by his passive obedience (his death and resurrection).29 This covenant or federal theology enabled Reformed theologians to defend the unity of the Old and New Testaments against Socinian and Anabaptist challenges; it mitigated potentially troubling implications of the Reformed emphasis on inscrutable divine sovereignty by asserting that God has deigned to act in accordance with covenantal promises, and it meshed well with the emerging contractual economy.30 Moreover, this federal theology also provided a conceptual apparatus for further developments in understanding the relationship between Christ and the Christian. Zealous to defend the doctrine of justification by faith alone and to separate faith and works, Reformed theologians after the mid-seventeenth century began to speak of two forms of solidarity with Christ—an extrinsic federal or legal union (involving an “immediate” or nominal imputation of Christ’s righteousness to the believer) that justifies, and a vital or spiritual union (often framed in terms of the work of the Holy Spirit) that sanctifies. Thus, the relationship between Christ and the Christian became more abstract and distant—a development with implications for sacramental and pastoral theology.31

The Nineteenth Century The Kantian revolution, with its anthropocentric turn and reduction of religion to morality, had extraordinary importance for subsequent theology. Immanuel Kant argued in the late eighteenth century that the content of morality is accessible through practical reason, but that Jesus is helpful as a teacher and example of the moral life. In short, Kant’s Jesus is helpful but not essential.32 After Kant, much Christology was preoccupied with doing justice to the humanity of Christ and the ethical implications of Christ’s person and work, and some responded to Kant by emphasizing the centrality of Christ—developments that are reflected in the Reformed tradition. We also see the real beginnings of long-term conflict between ontological Christologies that find the significance of Christ in his incarnational identity as divine and human, and ethical Christologies that emphasize his moral attainment and example. In the early nineteenth century, a Reformed theologian at the University of Berlin, Friedrich Schleiermacher, sought to ground religion and theology in what he termed a “feeling of absolute dependence” on God,33 and to view Jesus as both central and

the doctrine of christ   339 essential to Christianity. According to Schleiermacher, “Christianity is a monotheistic faith . . . and is essentially distinguished from other such faiths by the fact that in it everything is related to the redemption accomplished by Jesus of Nazareth.”34 Repudiating the two-natures doctrine of Chalcedon, Schleiermacher argued that Jesus was unique because in him the archetypal ideal of human perfection has been introduced into history. Jesus is the “Second Adam,” and this ideality consists in his sinlessness and “the constant potency of His God-consciousness, which was a veritable existence of God in Him.”35 Schleiermacher clearly thought that he had devised a Christology that was consistent with the Enlightenment’s conception of immanent historical existence and yet preserved the uniqueness of Christ. But in viewing Christ’s “divinity” as a function of his archetypal humanity, this approach placed such weight on Christ’s humanity that, according to many critics, it became unlike that of others. The Jesus of Schleiermacher, for example, is immune to temptation, and the German downplayed Christ’s agony in the garden because it suggested an interruption in God-consciousness.36 Schleiermacher’s view of salvation echoes the earlier Reformed emphasis on union with Christ, though it transposes it into a new experiential key. Salvation occurs as the believer is assumed into “the power of His God-consciousness” and into “the fellowship of His unclouded blessedness, and this is His reconciling activity.”37 The Scottish Presbyterian Hugh R. Mackintosh remarked that here the “cardinal idea is that of vital union with Christ. It is by taking us up into the energies of His God-consciousness and the fellowship of His perfect blessedness that He reconciles and saves.”38 Schleiermacher’s influence was vast in at least two ways. First, his Christocentrism— for Schleiermacher everything in Christianity “is related to the redemption accomplished by Jesus of Nazareth”—led many to view Christology as the “central dogma” of the Christian faith. This impulse found expression in the German “Mediating Theology,” which sought a middle path between the critical theologies of Schleiermacher and G. W. F. Hegel, on the one hand, and orthodoxy, on the other. In the nineteenth-century American context, the influence of the German mediating theologians is evident in the Mercersburg theology of John W. Nevin, Philip Schaff, and Emanuel V. Gerhart, and in the work of Presbyterian Henry Boynton Smith. As Schaff wrote, “The divine-human person of Christ is the sum and substance of Christianity. . . . All other doctrines that have been made fundamental and central, derive their significance from their connection with it.”39 Such efforts to relate Christology to all of theology continued in the twentieth century with Karl Barth and Thomas F. Torrance. A second result of the age of Schleiermacher was a new emphasis on the humanity of Christ and a trend toward Christologies “from below” (beginning Christological reflection with the humanity of Christ). For example, some argued from the sinlessness of Christ’s archetypal humanity to the presence of the divine in him.40 This anthropocentric focus gave rise to new Christological issues in the nineteenth century. There were innovative suggestions for how to protect the integrity of Christ’s incarnate humanity in the context of its union with deity, and additional reflection on the status of Christ’s humanity. Particularly significant was the rise of kenosis Christology, an approach that emerged initially in the German Erlangen school of Lutheran theology. According to classical

340   william b. evans Lutheran theology, there is a real communication of attributes from the divine to the human nature of Christ so that Christ’s humanity is said to be ubiquitous, but in the context of the nineteenth-century anthropocentric turn in theology, this seemed Eutychian to many. Gottfried Thomasius argued, on the basis of Philippians 2:6–7, that during his humiliation, Christ temporarily “emptied” himself of those divine attributes that seemed incompatible with human historical existence on earth. Despite the objection that kenosis Christology threatened the doctrine of divine immutability, these ideas gained a following among Reformed thinkers on the continent and in Britain, including Frédéric Louis Godet and Hugh R. Mackintosh.41 The status of Christ’s humanity in relation to sin and temptation also received new attention during this period. Should Christ’s humanity be viewed as perfect, or was it a “fallen” humanity that bore the effects of sin and was healed through its incarnational union with the Logos? This issue was forcefully raised by Edward Irving, a minister of the Scottish Kirk whose ministerial credentials were revoked because of his teachings on the “sinful flesh” of Christ. Similar ideas were espoused by the nineteenth-century Mercersburg theologian John W. Nevin, and in the twentieth century by Karl Barth and Thomas F. Torrance.42 In affirming a “sinful humanity,” they were not saying that Christ actually sinned; rather, they sought to emphasize Christ’s solidarity with sinful humanity. Nevertheless, some have argued that Christ’s assumption of fallen humanity would involve him in the guilt of original sin.43 A related issue—whether Christ could have sinned—was extensively discussed in the theology of the period. Schaff and Charles Hodge affirmed the peccability of Christ’s human nature; Presbyterians such as William  G.  T.  Shedd and Robert  L.  Dabney asserted his impeccability. Representative of such discussions are the positions held by theologians at two great American Presbyterian seminaries—Hodge of Princeton and Shedd of Union in New York. Hodge reasoned from the nature of humanity and the nature of temptation, arguing that “a true man . . . must have been capable of sinning” and that temptation “implies the possibility of sin.” Shedd, on the other hand, argued from Christ’s immutability and from the unity of the person of Christ as the God-man. Against those who thought that the reality of temptation is compromised by impeccability, Shedd distinguished between temptability and impeccability, arguing that “temptability depends upon the constitutional susceptibility, while impeccability depends upon the will.”44 The second half of the nineteenth century witnessed the rise of neo-Kantian classical Protestant liberalism and its ethical Christology. While the leading lights of this movement were German, it had a substantial impact on American Presbyterianism. Theologians such as Albrecht Ritschl, Wilhelm Hermann, and Adolf von Harnack recast theology in neo-Kantian terms, emphasizing the ethical rather than the metaphysical. Rejecting the traditional two-natures doctrine, and contending that religious knowledge consists of “value judgments,” Ritschl argued that Christ, by his perfect obedience, has the value of God for us and portrayed him primarily as a teacher and moral example. This impulse was further developed by Hermann, who sought to show how the moral example and personality of Jesus as revealed in the New Testament can empower ethical

the doctrine of christ   341 behavior, and Harnack, who distinguished the essential kernel of Jesus’s ethical teachings from the dispensable husk of the church’s later Christological doctrines.45 The Ritschlian theology was mediated to the American Reformed community by northern Presbyterians such as William Adams Brown and Henry Sloane Coffin of Union Seminary in New York.

The Twentieth Century The heresy trials of northern Presbyterian ministers David Swing and Charles Augustus Briggs in 1874 and 1892, respectively, demonstrated that progressive theological ideas were entering American Presbyterianism. This emerging liberal tradition was characterized by a concern that theology be responsive to contemporary concerns, by a focus on divine immanence (especially in the progress of human culture), by emphasis on the person of Christ, and by the sense that Christ’s significance should be viewed in primarily ethical terms. At the same time, American Presbyterianism boasted a robust conservative presence centered especially in the flagship Presbyterian seminary at Princeton, where Benjamin B. Warfield defended the older Reformed orthodoxy. Warfield particularly sought to defend the incarnation by demonstrating that the New Testament both presupposes and teaches it: “The doctrine of the Two Natures of Christ is not merely the synthesis of the teaching of the New Testament, but the conception that underlies every one of the New Testament writings.”46 By the first decade of the twentieth century, the stage was set for significant controversy. Increasing tensions prompted the 1910 General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America to require ordinands to affirm the inerrancy of Scripture along with four points of Christological doctrine—the substitutionary atonement and the historicity of the virgin birth, bodily resurrection, and miracles of Christ. This list of “essential and necessary articles” was reaffirmed by the Assemblies of 1916 and 1923. Also significant was the publication in 1923 of J. Gresham Machen’s Christianity and Liberalism. The Princeton Seminary theologian contrasted the moralistic naturalism of the Ritschlian tradition with the Jesus of traditional Christian doctrine: “Liberalism regards Jesus as the fairest flower of humanity; Christianity regards Him as a supernatural person.”47 More than twelve hundred Presbyterian ministers signed the Auburn Affirmation of 1924, which argued for latitude and toleration in such matters, contending that “the particular theories contained in the deliverance of the General Assembly of 1923 . . . are not the only theories allowed by the Scriptures and our standards as explanations of these facts and doctrines of our religion.”48 In 1926, an effort to reaffirm the five essential doctrines failed at the Assembly, and the northern Presbyterian Church became increasingly open to theological diversity. Thus the so-called fundamentalist-modernist controversy of this period was, to a considerable extent, a Christological debate. Meanwhile, winds of change in Europe would prove significant for Presbyterian and Reformed Christology. The First World War cast doubt on the ethical optimism of the

342   william b. evans Ritschlian school, and a new generation of Reformed theologians—most notably Karl Barth—crafted a theology (known as “theology of crisis” and “dialectical theology,” and later as “neo-orthodoxy”) more suited to the troubled times. In contrast to the doctrinal minimalism that often characterized Protestant liberalism, Barth returned to the classical dogmatic tradition by reaffirming the doctrines of Trinity, incarnation, virgin birth, atonement, and resurrection. The Christocentric tradition of Schleiermacher and the mediating theologians also continues in Barth, for whom all of theology is related to Christ: “Apart from and without Jesus Christ we can say nothing at all about God and man and their relationship one with another.”49 Foundational to Barth’s Christology and theology in general is his Christocentric revision of the Reformed doctrine of election. In place of Reformed Orthodoxy’s double predestination of individuals to election or reprobation, Christ for Barth is both the electing God and the elect human being, and as the latter, he encompasses within himself both election and reprobation—as elect, Christ is perfectly faithful, and as reprobate, Christ experiences the rejection of the Father in place of sinful human beings.50 Thus the eternal covenant of grace, of which Christ is the content, is the basis of both creation and reconciliation.51 In his insistence that Christ is “very God and very man,” Barth clearly intended to affirm the substance of Chalcedon, though the two natures of Christ are viewed in more dynamic terms than in earlier theology.52 Barth also sought to transcend the ancient debate between Alexandria and Antioch: “We are dealing with testimonies to one reality, which, though contrary to one another, do not dispute or negate each other. That must be remembered when we are compelled to adopt a position toward the antitheses . . . between the Christologies of Alexandria and of Antioch, of Luther and of Calvin.”53 Barth presents the work of Christ primarily in terms of a modified threefold-office scheme (“the Lord as Servant,” “the Servant as Lord,” and “the True Witness”), and he views the elements of humiliation and exaltation as simultaneous—on the grounds that in the incarnation and work of Christ, God is abased and Man is exalted—rather than sequential as Lutheranism asserted.54 All this lends a Reformed cast to his position. Also crucial to Barth’s presentation of the work of Christ is what has been termed his “objectivism”—the way that Christ not only accomplishes redemption for humanity but also fulfills the human response of faith and obedience toward God.55 Thus Barth weaves his discussion of Christ’s work together with his discussion of the elements of the traditional ordo salutis (e.g., justification and sanctification). The prominent twentieth-century Scottish theologian Thomas F. Torrance continued Barth’s Christocentrism: “It is the incarnation of the Word which prescribes to dogmatic theology both its matter and its method, so that whether in its activity as a whole or in the formulation of a doctrine in any part, it is the Christological pattern that will be made to appear.”56 Also reminiscent of Barth is Torrance’s Christological objectivism, in which Christ’s own faith, obedience, and worship are vicarious and salvific.57 Torrance, however, moves beyond Barth in two ways. First, even more than Barth, he emphasizes the “vicarious” and “mediatorial humanity” of Christ, and together with Barth, he insists that this humanity assumed by the Logos was “fallen.” In fact, Torrance

the doctrine of christ   343 termed the frequent denial by Western theologians that Christ assumed a fallen humanity the “Latin heresy.”58 Second, Torrance gives more attention to the ontology of union with Christ and provides a more robust sacramentology and ecclesiology than Barth does. Nineteenth- and twentieth-century Presbyterian mission efforts resulted in the founding of Presbyterian denominations in Africa, Asia, and South America, and these churches have generated fruitful Christological reflection. A key emphasis has been contextualization (Christ understood in categories relevant to non-Western cultural contexts). For example, Ghanian Presbyterian Kwame Bediako has emphasized Christ as victor over spiritual forces of evil (in response to the robustly supernatural worldview of Africans), the universality of Christ as transcending ethnic and tribal divisions, the Incarnation as an answer to the problem of the remoteness of the High God of African Traditional Religion, and Jesus as the Great Ancestor who mediates blessings to his people.59

The Contemporary Diversity Considerable diversity in Christological perspectives prevails today in the Presbyterian and Reformed tradition. Classical formulations of Christ’s person and work—evident in defenses of Chalcedon and penal substitution—continue to have ardent champions in more conservative Reformed circles and, in modified form, among the successors of Barth and Torrance. Here the challenge is translating notions of a genuine incarnation (with its ancient conceptualities of nature and hypostasis) into a contemporary cultural environment committed to immanent, historical existence that has little room for the transcendent. On the theological left, immanent, ethical Christologies continue to predominate over traditional ontological formulations of Christ’s person. This emphasis has been given new vitality by the religious pluralism of theologians such as sometime Presbyterian John Hick, because an incarnational Christology that views Christ as ontologically both divine and human inevitably ascribes an absoluteness to Christianity that does not comport with a pluralistic theology of the religions,60 and by the sociopolitical concerns of liberation theologies, which often make Christ a symbol of human quests for justice and highlight his solidarity with particular oppressed groups (such liberation Christologies are often heavily tied to particular contexts). Concerned about both social justice and pluralism, contemporary Presbyterian theologian Douglas Ottati writes: “Has one the right to use the word ‘incarnation’ if one speaks of the mediated presence of God in Jesus Christ and refuses to speculate about eternal distinctions and relations in God? Certainly not in the sense of the two-natures doctrine understood as a substantive, metaphysical specification of how humanity and divinity co-inhere in Christ’s person.” Instead, Ottati “emphasizes the man Jesus as the brightest illustration of grace” and “points to the emergence of a radical devotion to God in the man Jesus.”61

344   william b. evans But here, too, questions emerge. Do such immanent Christologies provide a foundation for ethical transformation instead of merely serving as an example or symbol of a transforming reality that is ultimately funded from elsewhere, and do they adequately ground the abiding significance of Christianity among the world’s religions? These significant Christological differences in the current context will not be easily reconciled.

Notes 1. See R. V. Sellers, Two Ancient Christologies: A Study in the Christological Thought of the Schools of Alexandria and Antioch in the Early History of Christian Doctrine (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1954). 2. Heinrich Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, ed. Ernst Bizer, trans. G.  T.  Thomson (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1950), 511. 3. Ulrich Zwingli, “An Exposition of the Faith,” in Zwingli and Bullinger, ed. G. W. Bromiley (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1953), 251. 4. G.  C.  Berkouwer, The Person of Christ, trans. John Vriend (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1954), 276. See also Richard Cross, “Alloiosis in the Christology of Zwingli,” Journal of Theological Studies, NS, 46 (1995), 105–122. 5. See John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 4.9.8. 6. Calvin, Institutes, 2.14.1. 7. Institutes, 2.14.1. 8. Institutes, 2.14.1. 9. See Institutes, 2.14.3. 10. See Dennis Ngien, “Chalcedonian Christology and Beyond: Luther’s Understanding of the Communicatio Idiomatum,” Heythrop Journal 45 (2004): 54–68. 11. Calvin, Institutes, 4.17.19. 12. See Institutes, 2.13.4. 13. See E.  David Willis, Calvin’s Catholic Christology: The Function of the So Called Extra Calvinisticum in Calvin’s Theology (Leiden: Brill, 1966). 14. Calvin, Institutes, 2.13.4. See also Westminster Confession of Faith, 8.3. On this issue, see Bruce  L.  McCormack, For Us and Our Salvation: Incarnation and Atonement in the Reformed Tradition, Studies in Reformed Theology and History 1 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton Theological Seminary, 1993), 18–19. 15. See Calvin, Institutes 2.16.1–19. 16. See Calvin, Institutes, 2.15.1–6 and 2.16.1–19. For a recent Reformed exposition of the munus triplex, see Robert Letham, The Work of Christ (Downers Grove, IL: IVP Academic, 1993). The Westminster Larger Catechism (Q. 42) integrates these two modes of presentation, speaking of how Christ came “to execute the offices of prophet, priest, and king of his Church, in the estate both of his humiliation and exaltation.” 17. See Calvin, Institutes 2.17.4–5. 18. See Institutes 2.16.1–7. See also Robert  A.  Peterson, Calvin’s Doctrine of the Atonement (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1983). 19. See Calvin, Institutes 2.16.8–12. Calvin’s interpretation of the descensus ad inferos was ­subsequently enshrined in Heidelberg Catechism, Q. 44. 20. Institutes, 3.1.1.

the doctrine of christ   345 21. See John Calvin, Commentary on John 6:51; Institutes 3.11.9. See also Willis, Calvin’s Catholic Christology, 78–100. 22. Themes of union and participation with Christ have been a focus of recent scholarly attention. See, for example, Mark A. Garcia, Life in Christ: Union with Christ and Twofold Grace in Calvin’s Theology (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2008); and William  B.  Evans, Imputation and Impartation: Union with Christ in American Reformed Theology (Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2008). 23. See Richard A. Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2003), 4:275–332. 24. “The Chalcedonian Definition of the Faith,” in James Stevenson, Creeds, Councils, and Controversies, rev. ed. (London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1989), 353. 25. Heinrich Schmid, Doctrinal Theology of the Evangelical Lutheran Church, trans. Charles A. Hay and Henry E. Jacobs (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg, 1961), 314–315. 26. See Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics, 4 vols., ed. John Bolt, trans. John Vriend (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2003–2008), 3:308–316. 27. Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, trans. George Musgrave Giger, ed. James T. Dennison, Jr., 3 vols. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1992–1997), 2:322. On this see also Heppe, Reformed Dogmatics, 431–447. This unio personalis also serves to protect the ­distinction of Trinitarian Persons—an immediate union of natures could imply that the humanity of Christ was equally united with all three persons of the Trinity rather than with hypostasis of the Second Person. On some of the complexities of the relationship between Trinity and Incarnation, see Oliver Crisp, “Problems with Perichoresis,” Tyndale Bulletin 56 (2005): 119–140. 28. See David Weir, The Origins of the Federal Theology in Sixteenth Century Reformation Thought (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1990). 29. See Westminster Larger Catechism, Q. 36; Westminster Confession of Faith, 7.6. 30. See David Zaret, The Heavenly Contract: Ideology and Organization in Pre-Revolutionary Puritanism (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985), 128–198. 31. On these developments, see Evans, Imputation and Impartation, 57–75. 32. See, for example, Immanuel Kant, Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, trans. and ed. Theodore M. Greene and Hoyt H. Hudson (New York: Harper & Row, 1960), 142–155. 33. Friedrich Schleiermacher, The Christian Faith, ed. H.  R.  Mackintosh and J.  S.  Stewart (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1928), 12–18. 34. Schleiermacher, Christian Faith, 52. 35. Schleiermacher, 385. 36. See Schleiermacher, 415; Friedrich Schleiermacher, The Life of Jesus, ed. Jack C. Verheyden (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975), 388. See also Colin Gunton, Yesterday and Today: A Study of Continuities in Christology (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1983), 98–100. 37. Schleiermacher, Christian Faith, 425, 431. 38. H. R. Mackintosh, The Doctrine of the Person of Christ (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1912), 254. 39. Philip Schaff, introduction to Institutes of the Christian Religion, by Emanuel V. Gerhart, 2 vols. (New York: Armstrong, Funk & Wagnalls, 1891, 1894), 1:xii. See also Annette G. Aubert, The German Roots of Nineteenth-Century American Theology (New York: Oxford University Press, 2013); Richard  A.  Muller, “Henry Boynton Smith: Christocentric Theologian,” Journal of Presbyterian History 61 (1983): 429–444; and Muller, “Emanuel V. Gerhart on the

346   william b. evans ‘Christ-Idea’ as Fundamental Principle,” Westminster Theological Journal 48 (1986): 97–117. This Christocentric impulse has been critiqued from the theological left by Presbyterian theologian Eugene TeSelle, Christ in Context: Divine Purpose and Human Possibility (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975). 40. See Philip Schaff, The Moral Character of Christ; or, the Perfection of Christ’s Humanity, a Proof of His Divinity (Chambersburg, PA: M. Kieffer, 1861). 41. See Mackintosh, Doctrine of the Person of Christ, 463–490; and Donald G. Dawe, The Form of a Servant: A Historical Analysis of the Kenotic Motif (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1963). 42. See Edward Irving, The Orthodox and Catholic Doctrine of Our Lord’s Human Nature (London: Baldwin and Craddock, 1830); John  W.  Nevin, The Mystical Presence: A Vindication of the Reformed or Calvinistic Doctrine of the Holy Eucharist (Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1846), 223; Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 2, ed. G. W. Bromiley and T.  F.  Torrance (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1956), 151–159; and Thomas  F.  Torrance, The Mediation of Christ (Exeter, UK: Paternoster, 1983), 48–51. 43. See, for example, Oliver Crisp, “Did Christ Have a Fallen Human Nature?,” International Journal of Systematic Theology 6 (2004): 270–288. 44. Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, 3 vols. (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1­ 872–1873), 2:457; and William G. T. Shedd, Dogmatic Theology, 3 vols. (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1891), 2:336. 45. See Albrecht Ritschl, The Christian Doctrine of Justification and Reconciliation, trans. H. R. Mackintosh and A. B. Macaulay (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1902); Wilhelm Hermann, The Communion of the Christian with God, trans. J. Sandys Stanyon and R. W. Stewart (New York: G.  P.  Putnam’s Sons, 1906); and Adolf von Harnack, What Is Christianity?, trans. Thomas Bailey Saunders (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1957). 46. B. B. Warfield, The Person and Work of Christ (Philadelphia: P&R, 1950), 237. 47. J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (New York: Macmillan, 1923), 96. 48. Quoted in Bradley J. Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 79. 49. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, 4 vols., ed. G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1936–1969), vol. 4, pt. 1, p. 45. 50. See Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 2, pt. 2, pp. 94–194. 51. See Barth, vol. 1, pt. 1, pp. 228–229. 52. See Barth, vol. 1, pt. 2, pp. 132–171. See also George Hunsinger, “Karl Barth’s Christology: Its Basic Chalcedonian Character,” in Disruptive Grace: Studies in the Theology of Karl Barth (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2000), 131–147. 53. Barth, Church Dogmatics, I/2:24. 54. See Barth, vol. 4, pt. 1, pp. 20–22; Hunsinger, Disruptive Grace, 141–142. 55. Because of this “objectivism” and revision of the doctrine of election, some have sensed an implicit universalism here. 56. Thomas F. Torrance, Theology in Reconstruction (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1965), 128. 57. See Thomas F. Torrance, The Mediation of Christ (Exeter, UK: Paternoster, 1983), 83–108. 58. See Thomas F. Torrance, “Karl Barth and the Latin Heresy,” Scottish Journal of Theology 39 (1986): 461–482. 59. See Kwame Bediako, Jesus in African Culture: A Ghanaian Perspective (Accra: Christian Council of Ghana, 1990).

the doctrine of christ   347 60. See, for example, John Hick, The Metaphor of God Incarnate: Christology in a Pluralistic Age, 2nd ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2006). 61. Douglas F. Ottati, Jesus Christ and Christian Vision (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1989).

Bibliography Aubert, Annette G. The German Roots of Nineteenth-Century American Theology. New York: Oxford University Press, 2013. Berkouwer, G.  C. The Person of Christ. Translated by John Vriend. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1954. Crisp, Oliver. “Did Christ Have a Fallen Human Nature?,” International Journal of Systematic Theology 6 (2004): 270–288. Crisp, Oliver. “Problems with Perichoresis.” Tyndale Bulletin 56 (2005): 119–140. Cross, Richard. “Alloiosis in the Christology of Zwingli.” Journal of Theological Studies NS 46 (1995): 105–122. Dawe, Donald G. The Form of a Servant: A Historical Analysis of the Kenotic Motif. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1963. Evans, William  B. Imputation and Impartation: Union with Christ in American Reformed Theology. Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2008. Garcia, Mark  A. Life in Christ: Union with Christ and Twofold Grace in Calvin’s Theology. Milton Keynes, UK: Paternoster, 2008. Gunton, Colin. Yesterday and Today: A Study of Continuities in Christology. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1983. Hunsinger, George. “Karl Barth’s Christology: Its Basic Chalcedonian Character.” In Disruptive Grace: Studies in the Theology of Karl Barth, 131–147. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2000. Letham, Robert. The Work of Christ. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1993. Longfield, Bradley  J. The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Mackintosh, H. R. The Doctrine of the Person of Christ. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1912. Muller, Richard  A. “Emanuel  V.  Gerhart on the ‘Christ-Idea’ as Fundamental Principle.” Westminster Theological Journal 48 (1986): 97–117. Muller, Richard A. “Henry Boynton Smith: Christocentric Theologian.” Journal of Presbyterian History 61 (1983): 429–444. Muller, Richard A. Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics. 4 vols. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2003. Ngien, Dennis. “Chalcedonian Christology and Beyond: Luther’s Understanding of the Communicatio Idiomatum.” Heythrop Journal 45 (2004): 54–68. Peterson, Robert A. Calvin’s Doctrine of the Atonement. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1983. McCormack, Bruce L. For Us and Our Salvation: Incarnation and Atonement in the Reformed Tradition. Studies in Reformed Theology and History 1:2. Princeton, NJ: Princeton Theological Seminary, 1993. Sellers, R. V. Two Ancient Christologies: A Study in the Christological Thought of the Schools of Alexandria and Antioch in the Early History of Christian Doctrine. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1954. TeSelle, Eugene. Christ in Context: Divine Purpose and Human Possibility. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1975.

348   william b. evans Weir, David. The Origins of the Federal Theology in Sixteenth-Century Reformation Thought. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1990. Willis, E. David. Calvin’s Catholic Christology: The Function of the So-Called Extra Calvinisticum in Calvin’s Theology. Leiden: Brill, 1966. Zaret, David. The Heavenly Contract: Ideology and Organization in Pre-Revolutionary Puritanism. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1985.

Chapter 21

The Doctr i n e of the Holy Spir it Richard Burnett

Introduction The history of Presbyterianism is more but not less than a history of the interpretation of the work of the Holy Spirit. It is a history of actions and reactions, movements and countermovements in response to the work (or presumed work) of the Holy Spirit, or, more specifically, a history of efforts to redress perceived excesses or deficiencies in its own teachings and in the teachings of others on the Holy Spirit. That Presbyterians have such a history is not surprising. John Calvin not only systematically expounded the work of the Holy Spirit but also emphasized it as much if not more than any theologian before him, leading B. B. Warfield to call him “pre-eminently the theologian of the Holy Spirit.” Whereas “the doctrine of sin and grace dates from Augustine, the doctrine of satisfaction from Anselm, the doctrine of justification by faith from Luther,” Warfield claimed, “the doctrine of the work of the Holy Spirit is a gift from Calvin to the Church.”1 Whether always properly understanding the person and work of the Holy Spirit or wishing to receive this gift from Calvin, it is the doctrinal seed from which Presbyterians rose. Calvin propounded the Holy Spirit’s free agency according to Scripture against various efforts to contain, control, or usurp it. This emphasis is reflected in the teachings of his progeny. Nowhere, for example, is Calvin’s Eucharistic teaching more precisely recapitulated or the Spirit’s work deemed to be more decisive than in the Scots Confession (1560). Against Ulrich Zwingli and Anabaptists, “who affirm the sacraments to be nothing else than naked and bare signs” and the “transubstantiation of bread into Christ’s body, and of wine into his natural blood, as the Romanists have perniciously taught,” the Scots Confession teaches that “the right use of the sacraments is wrought by means of the Holy Ghost, who by true faith carries us above all things that are visible, carnal, and earthly, and makes us feed upon the body and blood of Christ Jesus.” The Spirit’s work is in believers, not the elements, and—“notwithstanding

350   richard burnett the distance,” which so concerned the Lutherans—it is the Spirit who mystically unites Christ’s “glorified body in heaven and mortal men on earth.” By providing a separate chapter on the Holy Spirit, extensive treatment of his work in regeneration and sanctification, and a devastating description of the depravity from which he saves human beings, the Scots Confession demonstrates why “the Spirit of the Lord Jesus” has been so important to Presbyterians from the beginning. Having taken root in Scotland, this seed bore the fruit of much revival preaching. Beginning, for example, with the General Assembly at St. Giles Cathedral, Edinburgh, in 1596, John Davison preached, and purportedly, “the Holy Spirit pierce[d] their hearts with razor-sharp conviction” and “a spirit of deep repentance” broke in upon them. “Caught by surprise and overwhelmed by the Spirit, those present” were “used by God to carry the torch of revival fire from this place, igniting a blaze that will sweep across the Scottish landscape.”2 Such fire spread through the preaching of John Welch and Robert Bruce. Many witnessed the “down-pouring of the Spirit” at the Kirk o’ Shotts Revival of 1630. Revival also spread to Ireland through the preaching of John Livingston, Josias Welch, and Robert Blair. Passionate outdoor preaching, celebration of the Lord’s Supper, and subsequent testimonies of personal conversions and renewal were standard. “This dependence upon the Holy Spirit’s moving within individual souls and the resulting religious emphasis upon emotionally charged piety,” Marilyn Westerkemp claims, “dominated Scottish Christianity since the early seventeenth century.”3 English Puritanism also influenced the development of Presbyterian pneumatology. The Westminster Confession maintains Calvin’s emphasis on the Holy Spirit, but nowhere more explicitly than in its teaching on “the inward illumination of the Spirit.” Readers of Scripture may hold it in “high and reverent esteem” and be convinced it is the Word of God by many arguments, “yet, notwithstanding, our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority, thereof, is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit, bearing witness by and with the Word in our hearts.” Throughout the seventeenth century, however, one sees “a perceptible shift towards an overly rationalist type of theological thought which risked reducing the inward illumination of the Spirit to a largely formal assent to the authority of Scripture or of the teaching of the Confession.” Resisting the pressure of the age to collapse the truth of revelation into truths of reason, John Owen wrote his Pneumatologia, which “was in part directed against the idea that God’s Spirit should be regarded simply as an ethical quality of human life, a ‘spirit’ of natural morality, rather than as a ‘spiritual principle’ engendering new spiritual life in us.”4 Owen’s teachings on the Spirit influenced generations of English and Scots-Irish Presbyterians, as did those of other learned doctors of the church, for example, William Perkins, Thomas Goodwin, and Thomas Watson. Yet learned doctors were scarce—as were ministers trained by them—when large numbers of Scots-Irish Presbyterians migrated to America in the early eighteenth century, prompting William Tennent to establish the Log College in 1727. The Synod’s ruling, in 1739, that its education was inferior set the stage for the Old Side–New Side Controversy, which was fueled by Gilbert Tennent’s sermon, “The Danger of an Unconverted Ministry” (1740). Representing the New Side, Tennent charged that many

the doctrine of the holy spirit   351 “orthodox, letter-learned and regular Pharisees” were merely “natural men,” while few were truly “spiritual.” John Thomson, representing the Old Side, responded with “The Doctrine of Convictions Set in a Clear Light” (1741), about which Tennent said, “Hardly anything can be invented that has a more direct tendency to destroy the common operations of God’s Holy Spirit, and to keep men from Jesus Christ.”5 Thomson was troubled by Tennent’s claim that he could so readily distinguish between converted and unconverted ministers and that “all true converts are as sensibly assured of their converted State, of the Grace of God in them and the Love of God unto them and of the Spirit’s working in them, as they can be of the Truth of what they perceive by their outward Senses.” Was this not judging by appearances? Rejecting Tennent’s inference of separate works of grace, Thomson insisted that the Holy Spirit “does not, first work one Grace and afterwards another, and again a Third, viz. he doth not first work Faith and afterward Repentance, and again Love, and then good Resolutions, &c. but rather that the very first Beginning of true Grace consists of one intire radical Grace.”6 Thomson’s contention that the New Side’s understanding of the Spirit’s work was not radical enough was not the last time Presbyterians identified as “Old” would insist on calling the Spirit’s work “radical.” And the notion of empirically identifiable signs of the Spirit’s indwelling and a separate “second blessing,” or work of grace, and debate over which specific work was the most radical, would resurface again through Pentecostalism. Both Tennent and Thomson supported revival. But they differed over how the Spirit worked. These differences persisted among Presbyterianism throughout the Great Awakening. George Whitefield’s preaching directly impacted Presbyterians in Scotland and the American middle colonies. But the Great Awakening’s most enduring impact on American Presbyterianism was that presbyteries began requiring ordination candidates to provide testimony about God’s work of grace in their own lives. No theologian prompted American Presbyterians to focus more on the Holy Spirit’s work than Jonathan Edwards. “The work of the Spirit of God in regeneration is,” Edwards wrote, “giving a new sense, giving eyes to see, and ears to hear.” It “is compared to a raising the dead, and to a new creation.” While eschewing the emotional excesses associated with revivals, Edwards insisted that the experience of regeneration stirs the emotions and transforms the affections. He also made a sharp distinction between the Spirit’s work on the minds of “natural men” and his work in the lives of “his saints.” “The Spirit of God, in all his operations upon the minds of natural men, only moves, impresses, assists, improves, or some way acts upon natural principles; but gives no new spiritual principle.” Such was the case with Balaam, to whom he even gave visions. “But the Spirit of God in his spiritual influences on the hearts of his saints, operates by infusing or exercising new, divine and supernatural principles; principles which are indeed a new and spiritual nature, and principles vastly more noble and excellent than all that is in natural men.”7 As the fires of revolution waxed and the fires of revival waned in colonial America, many Presbyterian clergymen directed their attention on civic concerns. After the Revolution, however, and particularly after the upheaval following the French

352   richard burnett Revolution from 1789 to 1794, many lamented that America was becoming decadent, especially in its western expansion. Many longed for another awakening, but the ­spiritual and intellectual landscape had changed significantly. Common-sense realism, now well established in American higher education, led many New Englanders to wonder if the human condition were quite as bad as earlier Calvinists claimed. Samuel Hopkins had implied as much to “New Divinity” clergymen, who estimated man’s natural capacity for God more highly. But Nathaniel Taylor, who was deeply committed to common-sense philosophy with respect to revival, went further. Though claiming to be Edwards’s disciple, Taylor considered Edwards’s distinction between the Spirit’s work on the minds of natural men and his regenerating work to be too sharp. Taylor asked, “If salvation were entirely the work of the Holy Spirit, how could the evangelist exhort his audience to turn from sin to a new righteousness? If men were totally depraved and unable by themselves to do any good, how could he urge them to accept the offer of the Gospel?” George Marsden claims that this is the central question in “The Rise of New School Evangelicalism.”8 Other factors contributed to the Old School–New School split in 1837. The 1801 Plan of Union that brought Congregationalists and Presbyterians together formalized various practical arrangements but also forged a theological ethos. At its core were commitments to revival and social reform. These bore fruit. Reaping the harvest of revivals throughout the 1830s, the New School’s growth far exceeded the Old’s. But what the latter found disturbing was the New School’s willingness to adopt “new measures,” perhaps not as extreme as Charles Finney’s “anxious bench” but calculated, nevertheless, “to increase the pressure on the individual to make a self-conscious and immediate choice to accept Christ. This emphasis on the sinner’s active choice, the Old School asserted, implicitly denied the role of the Holy Spirit as the exclusive agent of regeneration.” It went back to the Old School question: “Was the Holy Spirit merely an influence on man’s free will as Taylor suggested, or did the Holy Spirit supply the whole transforming power in regeneration?” Before the smoke from the 1837 General Assembly that divided the denomination had cleared, the New School responded to the Old School’s accusations, insisting that they, too, believed that “regeneration is a radical change of heart, produced by the special operations of the Holy Spirit, ‘determining the sinner to that which is good,’ and is in all cases instantaneous.” This, however, did not heal the rift.9 Controversy also erupted in the Church of Scotland in the 1830s, when, rejecting ­cessationism—the belief that miracles and certain gifts of the Spirit have ceased— Edward Irving and John McLeod Campbell sought more Spirit-filled preaching and worship that had a place for signs and wonders, healing, and tongues. Similar rumblings occurred among American Presbyterians, but rarely among the mainstream. By then, Presbyterians had become more established and respectable, especially compared to their immigrant ancestors. Although wary of their excesses, most Presbyterians supported revivals throughout the Second Great Awakening. Beyond the Presbyterian world, however, a powerful movement was emerging among Protestants in Germany, Switzerland, and Holland. Many progressive European pietists and New School Presbyterians had similar views of revival and social reform. They also

the doctrine of the holy spirit   353 shared considerable interior focus and doubts about the adequacy of language, ­confessions, and doctrine. To Old Schoolers, it looked like a “revolt against the intellect.”10 Instead of objective knowledge, faith risked being defined primarily as feeling, mere trust, an ineffable experience, the object of which was inherently nondiscursive, nonpropositional, and devoid of cognitive content. There was warrant for concern. Some labeled this movement “New Haven theology.” Others called it “mediating theology.” No one yet called it “liberalism.” Charles Hodge called it “mysticism” and knew its greatest champion, Schleiermacher, who, Hodge said, “is regarded as the most interesting as well as the most influential theologian of modern times.” Hodge forever admired Schleiermacher’s Christological-focused piety. For those who assign “more importance to the feelings than to the intellect” and assume that “the senses and reason alike are untrustworthy and inadequate, as sources of knowledge” when it comes to receiving knowledge of “God, and our relation to Him,” “Schleiermacher’s system,” Hodge wrote, “is the most elaborate system of theology ever presented to the Church.”11 Recognizing its attraction, Hodge elaborated an extensive pneumatology. Nevertheless, he doubled down in seeking to ground the truth of Christian revelation “objectively,” basing it on evidence or facts contained in Scripture as interpreted through the lens of common sense. But as higher criticism increasingly called some of this evidence into question, Warfield and A. A. Hodge were compelled to publish the essay “Inspiration,” in 1881. When Charles Briggs, a professor at Union Theological Seminary in New York, suggested that their appeal to original manuscripts was a poor substitute for the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit, Francis Patton, the president of Princeton, responded, “Dependence of the soul upon the Holy Ghost is, of course, to be fully acknowledged. But we are not authorized to draw a line of distinction between faith which is due to reason and faith that is caused by the Spirit, in such terms as to make the former worthless.” “We address arguments to the intellect, desiring to produce conviction,” he added, “and we recognize the need of the Spirit’s cooperation” to obtain this result. “But it is one thing to say that the result cannot be secured without the Spirit and another thing to say that if secured without the Spirit it is of no value. The Bible calls for faith, but it does not require the man who has it to give an account of its genesis.”12 Patton sought to safeguard faith from collapsing into subjectivism, but his approach raised questions: Is faith “secured without the Spirit” faith? Granted, the Bible may require no account of how we came to faith, but does it not require us to acknowledge from whom faith comes—namely, from the Spirit, as a pure gift? And is “securing” the right “result” the Spirit’s primary work in establishing faith? This suggests why Presbyterians wanted to clarify the Holy Spirit’s role. During the late nineteenth century, the Princeton Seminary faculty vigorously opposed efforts to revise the Westminster Confession. Deeply concerned about subjectivism, they wanted the role of the Holy Spirit to be carefully circumscribed. No one understood this better than Warfield. Yet far from de-emphasizing the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, as critics later claimed, Warfield elaborated it more fully than any Presbyterian in this  period. But his contribution was primarily defensive. Those wishing that the Westminster Confession said more about the Spirit, he insisted, missed the forest for the

354   richard burnett trees. The Confession is itself “a treatise on the work of the Spirit.” No “meager ­summary” or chapter on the Holy Spirit could say better what the Confession already said. Overtures calling for confessional revision were defeated in 1893, but within a decade, Old Princeton’s arguments against revision no longer persuaded most Presbyterians. Old Princeton’s influence waned as the common-sense consensus among American intellectuals collapsed. Warfield, who championed Christianity as “the Apologetic religion,” destined “to reason its way to dominion,” was bewildered that his Dutch Calvinist friends Abraham Kuyper and Herman Bavinck did not concur. Reviewing Bavinck’s book The Certainty of Faith, Warfield wrote: “It is a standing matter of surprise to us that the school which Dr. Bavinck so brilliantly represents should be tempted to make so little of Apologetics.” Warfield agreed that “ ‘faith’ is the gift of God. But it does not follow that the ‘faith’ that God gives is not grounded in ‘the evidences.’” Bavinck asserted that arguments cannot establish faith; at best, they lead only to a “historical faith.” Warfield replied, “This is true. But then ‘historical faith’ is faith—a conviction of mind; and it is, as Dr. Bavinck elsewhere fully allows, of no little use in the world. The truth therefore is that rational argumentation does, entirely apart from that specific operation of the Holy Ghost which produces saving faith, ground a genuine exercise of faith.”13 Yet, in claiming that “ ‘historical faith’ is faith,” Warfield asserted what earlier Calvinists had denied. For Calvin, there was no “conviction of mind” “about faith” or “of faith” worth having apart from the Holy Spirit. Warfield later recapitulated his long-standing concern that “many had been tempted to make faith not a rational act of conviction . . . but an arbitrary act of the sheer will” or a mere matter of trust (fiducia). Yet he acknowledges, “Protestant theologians have generally explained that faith includes in itself the three elements of notitia, assensus, fiducia”; and “to protest against the Romish conception which limits faith to the assent of the understanding,” they have stressed “the fiducial element.” He also acknowledges that “the divine giving of faith” involves “the creation by God the Holy Spirit of a capacity for  faith under the evidence submitted” (italics mine), which sounds like Calvin and Edwards. However, Warfield continues, this capacity is not “something alien to [our] nature”; rather, it “belongs to human nature as such, which has been lost through sin and which can be restored only by the power of God. In this sense, faith remains natural even in the renewed sinner.” “There is not required a creation of something entirely new, but only a restoration of an old relation and a renewal therewith of an old disposition.”14 Yet is the Spirit’s work only reparative or restorative? Is it primarily supplying confirmatory aid in our intellectual assent, providing a supplement to enhance natural brain functioning, thereby making faith essentially an optimal form of human cognition? Does the Spirit simply authenticate what the mind ought to recognize as true if it is functioning properly and presented with sufficient evidence? There is no question here about the necessity of the Spirit’s work. The question is: What is the miracle? If there is one, it appears to be that boost in mental acuity that enables the mind to move from possibility to probability to, finally, certainty, after the evidence has been “duly apprehended, appreciated, [and] weighed,” as Warfield says.

the doctrine of the holy spirit   355 Most of those calling for confessional revision were unaware of these distinctions. They simply felt that Old Princeton had overintellectualized faith and thought it “desirable” “to express more fully the doctrine of the Church concerning the Holy Spirit.” When the new chapter on Holy Spirit in the 1903 revision underscored that the Spirit “urges” the gospel “upon the reason and conscience of men” and “prepares the way for it, [and] accompanies it with his persuasive power,” it sufficed. Surprising to many, however, Warfield did not object. Instead of correcting anything in the Confession, he said, this section may fairly be accounted a contribution “toward the augmentation of the Confession.”15 Yet Warfield had reason to worry. With the Holiness and Higher Life movements in full swing, Wesleyan perfectionism, Restorationist movements, and doomsday premillennialism on the rise, and Pentecostalism about to erupt, Warfield knew that powerful forces were at work in the name of the Spirit that could influence, if not deceive, even the elect. Growing up thirty miles from Cane Ridge, Warfield knew about the excesses of spirit-filled religion and hoped they would not spread. When they did, he wrote his last major work, Counterfeit Miracles (1918). Marsden says when the Keswick conferences were held at Princeton, in 1916, “true to the Princeton tradition,” the lion of Princeton “spotted a major doctrinal innovation and pounced.” In publishing his landmark defense of cessationism, Warfield repudiated not only glossolalia and faith healing but, theoretically, every miracle since the apostles.16 Not all Princeton Seminary professors were as suspect of modern movements that emphasized the Spirit’s work, however. Warfield’s younger colleague, Charles Erdman, with his deep Holiness and New School roots, defended them. Many of these movements have involved “extravagances and misconceptions,” Erdman acknowledged, but they “draw attention to elements which . . . need to be recognized and developed continually if [the Christian] life is to be maintained in purity and developed in power.”17 Because these movements had promoted personal holiness, peace, hope, and power for service, social righteousness, ecumenical unity, and education, Erdman argued, the power behind them was indispensable for renewal. Knowing the suspicions of fellow Presbyterians, he interpreted “the gifts of the Spirit,” being “filled with the Spirit,” “the baptism of the Spirit,” and other such phrases in their most positive, nonsectarian light; and he did the same in his analysis of John Wesley, Finney, Dwight Moody, and the Young Men’s Christian Association, Keswick conventions, and Pentecostal movement. Although he critiqued their excesses, Erdman was too sanguine about them for Warfield. Yet moderate evangelicals were not the only Presbyterians seeking to march under the Spirit’s banner. Liberals had long cited: “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom” (2 Cor. 3:17). Although they suffered defeats in the latter nineteenth century, their fortunes began to turn in the early twentieth century. The General Assembly passed resolutions affirming five fundamentals of faith in 1910, but such measures could not stem the rising tide of dissent. Henry Sloane Coffin, incensed that his teachers Charles Briggs and Arthur McGiffert had been driven out of the denomination, successfully defended dissenters. “We dare not curtail freedom of conscience,” Coffin wrote in 1915. “We look for an organization of the Church of Christ that shall exclude no one who shares His

356   richard burnett Spirit, and that shall provide an outlet for every gift the Spirit bestows” and give people the “liberty to think, to worship, to labor, as they are led by the Spirit of God.”18 Later, Coffin declared, “To acknowledge that a man possesses the Spirit of God and is equipped to serve the Kingdom, but to hold him unfit to minister in our select theological club because he does not wholly share the views of the majority, seems to me perilously like blasphemy against the Holy Ghost.”19 Robert Hasting Nichols, a drafter of the 1924 Auburn Affirmation, agreed: “The Holy Spirit, not the church, was the final authority for Protestant ministers.”20 J. Gresham Machen rebutted the charge that his brand of orthodoxy “quenched the Spirit” by emphasizing the Spirit’s work. Against moralistic preaching, he implored, “Let us not try to do without the Spirit of God.” Against charges of upholding a “dead orthodoxy,” he declared, “At the very center of Christianity are the words, ‘Ye must be born again.’ ” “This work of the Holy Spirit is part of the creative work of God. It is not accomplished by the ordinary use of means” or “merely by using the good that is already in man. On the contrary,” he added, “it is something new. It is not an influence upon the life, but the beginning of a new life; it is not development of what we had already, but a new birth.”21 Nevertheless, liberals such as William Merrill responded that the real conflict was between “a religion of authority” and “a religion of the spirit.” The faith of evangelical liberals, Merrill said, “rests on spiritual conviction, rather than on compulsion of logic or of ecclesiastical authority.” “Fundamentalists” and “ultra-conservatives,” he claimed, rely on the latter. “For them, there must be something tangible, physical, material, substantial, if anything is to be real. Undoubtedly, that is one powerful reason why [they] contend so inflexibly for . . . the errorless original manuscripts of the Bible” and worry when liberals claim their Bible is “equally inspired whether in the form of original manuscript or copy or translation, a trustworthy and authoritative guide simply because of the Spirit which is manifest in it.” Beyond the “high regard” for Scripture that rational proofs “may” yield, Merrill cited the Westminster Confession, “Yet, notwithstanding, our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority thereof is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit, bearing witness by and with the Word in our hearts,” as the only way one “rests fully and wholly on spirit, not on force; on truth, not on dogma.”22 Seeking to heal the breach, Erdman preached “The Power of the Holy Spirit” as moderator of the 1926 General Assembly, admonishing, “Some of us also may be failing to remember the relation between the Spirit of God and the revealed will of God, and we may not be giving to the written Word a large enough place in our lives.” “Others of us may be ‘grieving the Spirit,’ ” Erdman said, “by bearing false witness against our fellowChristian, by our bitterness and suspicion and envy and malice, and by not ‘speaking the truth in love.’ ”23 However, as the Social Gospel gained hegemony among liberals, controversial claims about “the Spirit of Christ” followed. “Ministry to the secular needs of men in the spirit of Christ is evangelism, in the right use of the word,” declared one author in Rethinking Missions (1932). Another proclaimed, “Whether carried on by Confucian or Christian,

the doctrine of the holy spirit   357 this movement spread abroad that quality which we have come to think of as the spirit of Christ.”24 Although Rethinking Missions was not an official Presbyterian publication, enough Presbyterians praised it (notably, Pearl Buck) to suggest that the “Spirit of Christ”—interpreted as the personality, character, or values of Jesus—was serving as a sieve for syncretism or, at least, a concept untethered from its Trinitarian moorings. Coffin had asserted earlier that the Spirit of God is “in non-Christian faiths” and “the Spirit is God’s Life in men, God living in them. To possess His will to serve, His sense of obligation, His interest and compassion, is to have the Holy Spirit dwelling and regnant in us.” Now Coffin’s convictions resonated more widely. “Men and women who are molding homes and industries, towns and nations, so that they embody love, and influencing for righteousness the least and lowest,” he argued “are helping build the ­habitation of God in the Spirit.”25 Without calling it a movement of the Spirit, a less triumphalistic Social Gospel movement was emerging in the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS). Seeking to overcome its “doctrine of the spirituality of the church,” which had sanctioned silence on “social issues” such as slavery, the General Assembly appointed the Committee on Moral and Social Welfare in 1934. The next Assembly adopted the committee’s report, which reinterpreted the concept of spirituality: “The church in fulfillment of its spiritual function must interpret and present Christ’s ideal for the individual and for society” in all areas of life—”in the home, in the school, in the church, in industry, and in politics, in racial contracts, and in international affairs.” Moreover, it approved measures to consider revising the Confession of Faith, which it did in 1938, adding chapters, “Of the Holy Spirit” and “Of the Gospel,” that were identical to those of the PCUSA.26 Although many Presbyterians still expressed concern that many non-Presbyterians misunderstood the Holy Spirit, few expressed concern about misunderstandings within their tradition. Walter Williamson Bryden, the principal of Knox College, Toronto, was an exception. Criticizing modern Protestants for seeking to “domesticate” the Spirit, Bryden emphasized “the utter discontinuity” the Spirit brings between the old and new, “between God and sinful man, between the Divine Spirit and Human spirit.” “He brings to an end the old Adam and creates the new man which is in Christ.” Pagan religions, “despite much talk about holy men and holy things,” Bryden said, “know no Holy Spirit, Who alone judges man to the roots of his being, cleanses him, thus delivers and comforts him.” “All true Christian believing, thinking and living, originate in Him.”27 The “spurious understanding of the Holy Spirit and His work” in the reactionary movements of rationalism and enthusiasm that oscillate throughout history, Bryden argued “have not served the church well.” But now, he warned, “there is the more characteristically modern and much more dangerous ‘idealistic’ misunderstanding of the Spirit’s function.” “The idealistic challenge consists” in turning the Spirit into a “so-called ‘higher’ rational-principle, immanent in man and in the world, presumed to be the sole creative agency of all there is of worth in civilization, culture and religion.” The Spirit serves to “ ‘advance’ in material welfare, intellectual and cultural pursuits” in times of peace and in war, calls us “to protect natural interests and to justify the righteousness of our cause” and, “above all things, [to] be respectable, decent and in order.”

358   richard burnett “The equation of this activity with the work of the Holy Spirit has proven almost ­disastrous to Christianity,” Bryden asserted at the outset of World War II. “The specific sin against the Holy Ghost in this age is” that people “substitute for the unique gifts of God’s Spirit their alleged national virtues and accustomed modes of living” and “count the possession of the latter somehow adequate for their salvation.”28 Few topics concerned Presbyterian leaders in American theological education after World War II more than the Holy Spirit. As a Latin American missionary John Mackay had contended in 1929 “that the greatest need of our time is to re-discover the Holy Spirit.” As the president of Princeton Seminary, Mackay wrote increasingly in the postwar period about the Holy Spirit.29 Likewise, Henry Van Dusen, the president of Union Seminary in New York, reflecting upon recent encounters with Pentecostalism abroad, predicted that future historians would “assess the most significant development in Christendom” in the second half of the twentieth century to be “the emergence of a new, third major type or branch of Christendom,” alongside Roman Catholicism and Protestantism. Both Presbyterians recognized “the portent and promise” of this “Third Force,” as Van Dusen called it, but Mackay interpreted the Spirit along the lines of his own Reformed, ecumenical “Evangelical Catholicity,” whereas Van Dusen picked up where his predecessor Coffin had left off and interpreted the Spirit along lines more common to religious studies departments.30 Seeking in Spirit, Son, and Father to emphasize the “neglected” former, Van Dusen stated, “The Holy Spirit should be a central and vital factor in the individual Christian’s thought and life; it is also of immense importance for Christianity’s relations with other religions, the whole world of religion in general.” “The fact is the Christian Church has never been altogether clear and consistent as to what is meant by the Holy Spirit.” “This fuzziness and inconsistency root back in the Bible itself.” “That vagueness and confusion persisted through the early centuries,” he insisted, “and have continued down to our own day.” “The Holy Spirit has guarded Christians’ thought of God from too precise formulation and too definitive limitation” and “kept Christians’ thought of God ‘open-ended’ toward new discoveries of God” and “new revelations of Himself by God.” However, the Holy Spirit “is not a uniquely or even distinctively Christian belief,” but is pervasive throughout religion, especially “the higher non-Christian faiths.” Because “we are on the right lines to employ the method of human analogy, anthropomorphisms, reading God’s nature in terms drawn from human experience at its noblest,” Van Dusen affirmed “the Trinity of Experience” rather than “the Trinity of Speculation” or ‘Dogma.” He also rejected the “provocative treatment” of interpreters who “maintain that Christians know nothing of the Holy Spirit apart from Jesus Christ,” such as Princeton Seminary professor, George Hendry.31 Hendry acknowledged long-standing “problems” with the doctrine of the Holy Spirit, especially the church’s “meager” efforts to clarify the Spirit’s relation to Christ and the church. But they are “gravely defective” not because of the “diversity” of biblical testimony, but “by the standard of the New Testament.” Contrary to “the majority of recent works on the Holy Spirit,” Hendry argued, “the Church did not begin with a general conception of the Spirit in the context of the relation between God and the world or God and man; it began with an endeavor to understand the distinctively Christian experience

the doctrine of the holy spirit   359 of the Spirit as a gift in the context of the mission and work of Christ.”32 Simply put, “There is no reference in the New Testament to any work of the Spirit apart from Christ. The Spirit is, in an exclusive sense, the Spirit of Christ.” “The New Testament knows no work of the Spirit except in relation to the historical manifestation of Christ” and ­“contains no trace of the conception of the Spirit as the principle that animates the life of man as God’s creature.” Defending the filioque—the doctrine that the Holy Spirit proceeds from both the Father and the Son—Hendry asserted, “While the association of the Spirit with Christ prevents the dissolution of Christian faith into a general religiosity, it also conserves its essentially personal character” against, for example, the temptation of mysticism, which often reduces the Spirit to “merely a divine influence or force.”33 Other Presbyterian theologians critiqued contemporary pneumatologies (notably, Arnold Come). But powerful winds were blowing against them. American churchmen throughout the 1960s identified the Spirit of God as the wind behind many social, political, intellectual, and spiritual movements. From civil rights to the charismatic movement, from women’s liberation to the student, peace, and environmental movements, God’s Spirit was claimed to underwrite each. Hendry had warned against the wedge Nels Ferré, Paul Tillich, and others drove between the Spirit of God and the Holy Spirit, leaving each to “remain forever distinct.”34 But such concerns were increasingly dismissed as passé. In 1963, the year the American Academy of Religion was reconstituted, Van Dusen published The Vindication of Liberal Theology, wherein he said that Jesus “offers an illustration of a life lived wholly in fidelity to the Divine Purpose.” Jesus serves people primarily “as a tuning-fork by which their souls may be attuned to the Divine Spirit.”35 This implied that more important than indwelling the Son through the Spirit is indwelling the Spirit through—or perhaps at least by means of—the Son. Upon the union of the United Presbyterian Church North America with the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) in 1958, the newly formed United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA) appointed a committee to prepare a “Brief Contemporary Statement of Faith.” Rocked by increasing social unrest, the committee focused on the “need of reconciliation in Christ” and produced the Confession of 1967. It affirmed that “God the Holy Spirit fulfills the work of reconciliation in man” by creating a community that seeks “the good of man in cooperation with powers and authorities,” but must also “fight against pretensions and injustices when these same powers endanger human welfare.” Indeed, “congregations, individuals, or groups of Christians who exclude, dominate, or patronize their fellowmen, however subtly, resist the Spirit of God.” Some Presbyterians found this language too political. Others worried more about the neo-Pentecostal movement and the Presbyterian Charismatic Communion, founded in 1966. Edward Dowey, Princeton Seminary professor and chairman of the Confession of 1967 drafting committee, spoke for many Presbyterians: “The name ‘Holy Ghost’ sounds occult or wispy. The descent of the Spirit at Pentecost produced strange behavior. Ecstatic speaking, quakings, healings, and emotional excesses have often been attributed to the Spirit, especially in sectarian movements, throughout Christian history. The more staid, formal churches appear strangely uncomfortable about the one whom the Fourth Gospel calls the Comforter.”36 Dowey was not speaking for all Presbyterians, however.

360   richard burnett Mackay had warned that “neo-Pentecostalism is a rebirth of primitive, First-Century Christianity.” Protestants who “look down their noses at Pentecostal Christianity” do so “at their peril.”37 However, the Confession of 1967 largely ignored Mackay’s warning. Moreover, in his “personal” “commentary,” Dowey regretted “that the relation of the Holy Spirit to creation was omitted in the final version of the Confession. The first published form had said, ‘God the Holy Spirit is active in the creation working to achieve the purposes of his love.’ ”38 For some, at least, this was an insufficient description of the Spirit’s relation to creation. However, by 1968, their concerns were not considered so urgent. But the concerns raised by neo-Pentecostalism were considered urgent. So the UPCUSA General Assembly appointed a committee to study “the work of the Holy Spirit with special reference to glossolalia and other charismatic gifts.”39 The committee reported in 1970 that small but significantly growing numbers of UPCUSA clergy and laity were “involved in charismatic experiences” and that this had “sometimes led to dissension within our Church.” After examining the exegetical, theological, and psychological dimensions of these practices and interviewing people with both “positive and negative experiences of charismatic phenomena,” the committee rejected the position “of some theologians that the purely supernatural gifts ceased with the death of the apostles.” This assumption was deemed exegetically unwarranted. Instead, Christians should “’test the spirits to see whether they are of God,’ since each one of the charismatic gifts had its counterfeits and frauds.” Therefore, “the practice of glossolalia should be neither despised nor forbidden; on the other hand, it should not be emphasized nor made normative for the Christian experience.” Acknowledging the dangers of “misuse and misrepresentation,” the report critiqued theories reducing charismatic practices to mere “psychological dynamics” and diagnosing participants as “neurotic,” “emotionally unstable,” “disturbed,” or “maladjusted individuals.” The report warned, “It will be a dark and tragic day in the life of Christianity if psychological norms become the criteria by which the truth or the untruth of religious experience is judged.”40 The UPCUSA “Report on the Work of the Holy Spirit” addressed healing, demon possession, baptism of the Holy Spirit, and other issues. Measured in what it affirmed and rejected, it articulated a “position of ‘openness’ regarding the Neo-Pentecostal movement.” It recommended practical guidelines for six specific groups: ministers and laity, those both having and not having neo-Pentecostal experiences; sessions; and presbyteries. It exhorted everyone to “be tolerant and accepting of those whose Christian experiences differ from your own” and to “remember that like other new movements in church history, neoPentecostalism may have a valid contribution to make to the ecumenical Church.” Finally, the report affirmed: “We believe that those who are newly endowed with gifts and perceptions of the Spirit have an enthusiasm and joy to give and we also believe that those who rejoice in our traditions of having all things done in ‘decency and order’ have a sobering depth to give. We therefore plead for a mutuality of respect and affection.”41 Other Presbyterian denominations also wrestled with neo-Pentecostalism. Adopting many of the guidelines in the UPCUSA report, they reflected a similar openness. More circumspect in its 1965 report, “Glossolalia,” a PCUS report in 1971 further examined issues surrounding the “Baptism of the Holy Spirit.” Though warning against problems associated with charismatic experiences, such as “divisiveness, judgment (expressed or

the doctrine of the holy spirit   361 implicit) on the lives of others, an attitude of pride or boasting,” the report concluded, “Where such an experience gives evidence of an empowering and renewing work of Christ in the life of the individual and the church, it may be acknowledged with gratitude.” The Church of Scotland adopted a report in 1974 that concluded, “There is a legitimate place for Neo-Pentecostals in the Church of Scotland, so long as they exercise their gifts for the benefit and spiritual enrichment of the whole Church.” The Presbyterian Church of Canada adopted a report in 1976 that concluded, “NeoPentecostalism is not itself a threat to the life of the Church,” rather, “despite its imperfections, is an evidence that God is at work in his Church.”42 To some conservative Presbyterians, this openness signaled theological drift. However, even the newly formed Presbyterian Church of America (PCA), despite its portentous pastoral letter of 1975, did not defend total cessationism. Rather, warning that some spiritual gifts “have received undue prominence in recent days, such as ‘tongues,’ ‘working of miracles’ and ‘healing,’” and “against an obsession with signs and miraculous manifestations which is not indicative of a healthy church, but of the opposite,” it recommended “a charitable spirit in the whole church.”43 Finding a more “censorious spirit” than a charitable one regarding such matters in the PCA, yet wary of plans and policies for reuniting the UPCUSA and the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), other Presbyterians founded the Evangelical Presbyterian Church (EPC) in 1981.44 With a sizeable charismatic constituency and being “asked if [it was] a ‘charismatic’ denomination,” the EPC adopted the “Position Paper on the Holy Spirit” in 1986, stating that some require Christians to “manifest a particular gift, such as speaking in tongues, as evidence of a deeper work of the Spirit within.” Others insist that “such a gift is no longer available or acceptable.” The EPC’s belief in the sovereignty of God “does not allow us either to require a certain gift or to restrict the Spirit in how he will work.” “Is the EPC charismatic?” the report asked. “If you mean are we Pentecostal, the answer is no. If you mean are we open to the gifts of the Holy Spirit, the answer is yes.”45 The Plan for Reunion between the UPCUSA and the PCUS called for a committee to prepare “a brief statement of Reformed faith for possible inclusion in the Book of Confessions.” A committee appointed after the reunion took place in 1983 eventually produced “A Brief Statement of Faith,” which received final approval in 1991. The first Reformed confession to devote more words to the Spirit than to “the Father” or “the Son,” the Brief Statement included actions traditionally credited to the Spirit, such as inspiring the prophets and apostles and justifying believers by grace through faith. But it also attributed actions to the Spirit never before asserted in a Reformed confession, such as “The same Spirit . . . sets us free to accept ourselves” and “calls women and men to all ministries of the Church.” It also affirmed that “the Spirit gives us courage . . . to unmask idolatries in Church and culture, to hear the voices of peoples long silenced, and to work with others for justice, freedom, and peace.” Since most Presbyterians affirmed justice, freedom, and peace—like most citizens in Western democracies— so long as they remained abstractions, few disputed such claims. Yet was it “the same Spirit” behind these words and actions as others traditionally affirmed or were other spirits speaking in them as well?

362   richard burnett Some were unsure, but many suspected theological drift. Yet identifying its exact source was difficult. With the popularity of “spirituality,” politicians and religious leaders alike preaching “empowerment,” and the burgeoning of religious studies departments wherein “the Spirit” was considered a catalyst for interreligious dialogue, testing the spirits was difficult because there were so many. This was not new. Liberationists had long claimed the Spirit was behind many movements and causes in the church and world. But in 1993, at a “Reimagining Conference” in Minneapolis sponsored by the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) (PC(USA)), the official name of the church since the union of the UPCUSA and the PCUS in 1983, a different spirit was manifest when prayers were repeatedly addressed to Isis, Osiris, Sophia, and the “Great eagle Spirit.”46 Such invocations raised questions. “Theologians of the traditional Churches have,” the 1970 UPCUSA report claimed, “been sensitive to any loosening of the ties between the Spirit and the historical Christ or between the Spirit and the institutional church life. In modern times, a certain kind of theological liberalism has been rejected because it seemed a mere extension of the human spirit and lacked a Christocentric foundation.”47 Yet had theological liberalism as such been rejected? Most mainline denominations and seminaries appeared to embrace “the Spirit” it invoked more enthusiastically than ever—though less tied to God the Father and Christ the Son—and precisely because it seemed so attuned to the human spirit. Whether it was so attuned and is the Spirit about which the Bible speaks or a Zeitgeist in a wide-ranging culture war—or even deeper ­spiritual conflict—has been the battle fought within the PC(USA) and the largest Presbyterian churches in Western democracies ever since. Although Christianity has grown explosively in Africa, Asia, and Central and South America and more Presbyterians now live in Kenya or South Korea than in North America, no major study of the Holy Spirit among Presbyterians internationally has been written. Generally speaking, the Holy Spirit’s role is considered more prominent among Presbyterians globally than in Western democracies, or, at least, his presence and power are more openly sought and commonly acknowledged. The “Pentecostalization” of Presbyterianism is often discussed today,48 but not the Presbyterianization of Pentecostalism. Either way, it appears that the most important chapter in the history of the Holy Spirit among Presbyterians has yet to occur.

Notes 1. B. B. Warfield, Calvin and Augustine, ed. Samuel G. Craig (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1956), 485. 2. David Calderwood, True History of the Church of Scotland (1678; Yorkshire, UK: Scholar Press, 1971), 315–317. 3. Marilyn Westerkemp, The Triumph of the Laity (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988). 86. 4. Alasdair Heron, The Holy Spirit (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983), 108, 112. 5. Gilbert Tennent, The Examiner, Examined (Philadelphia: William Bradford, 1743), 17. 6. Peter Wallace, “Old Light on the New Side: John Thomson and Gilbert Tennent on the Great Awakening,” Peter J. Wallace website, “Historical Essays and Sermons,” 1995 http:// www.peterwallace.org/old/thomson.txt.

the doctrine of the holy spirit   363 7. Jonathan Edwards, Religious Affections, ed. John E. Smith (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1959), 206–207. 8. George M. Marsden, The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970), 46–47. 9. Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 78, 53–54, 254. 10. Marsden, 5. 11. Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, vols. 1 and 2 (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1871), 2:440, 1:65–66, quotations in that order. 12. Francis Patton, “The Dogmatic Aspect of Pentateuchal Criticism,” Presbyterian Review 4 (1883): 345. 13. B.  B.  Warfield, “A Review of Herman Bavinck’s De Zekerheid des Geloofs” (1903), in Selected Shorter Writings, vol. 2, ed. John Meeter (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1973), 117, 114–115. 14. B.  B.  Warfield, “On Faith in Its Psychological Aspects” (1911), in The Works of Benjamin  B.  Warfield, John  E.  Meeter, vol. 9 (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 2000), 336–441. 15. B. B. Warfield, “The Confession of Faith as Revised in 1903” (1904), in Selected Shorter Writings, 2:382–385. 16. George M. Marsden, Fundamentalism and American Culture: The Shaping of TwentiethCentury Evangelicalism, 1870–1925 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1980), 98. 17. Charles Erdman, “Modern Spiritual Movements,” in Biblical and Theological Studies (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1912), 359–360. 18. Henry Sloane Coffin, Some Christians Convictions (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1915), 196–197. 19. Henry Sloane Coffin, “Why I Am a Presbyterian,” in Twelve Modern Apostles and Their Creeds, ed. G. K. Chesterton (New York: Duffield, 1926), 54. 20. Bradley  J.  Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1990), 77. 21. J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (New York: Macmillan, 1923), 90 (first quotation), 45 (remainder of the quotations). 22. William Merrill, Liberal Christianity (New York: Macmillan, 1925), 29, 38. 23. Charles Erdman, The Power of the Spirit (Philadelphia: General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, 1926). 24. Commission of Appraisal and William Ernest Hocking, Re-thinking Missions: A Laymen’s Inquiry after One Hundred Years (New York: Harper, 1932), 68, 160. 25. Coffin, Some Christians Convictions, 123, 136–137. 26. E. T. Thompson, Presbyterians in the South, vol. 3 (Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1973), 509–510 (quotation), 490–492. 27. Walter Williamson Bryden, “The Holy Spirit and the Church,” in Separated unto the Gospel (Toronto: Burns and MacEachern, 1956), 31–41. 28. Bryden, “Holy Spirit and the Church,” 38–44. 29. John Mackay Metzger, The Hand and The Road: The Life and Times of John A. Mackay (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2010), 196, 458n100. 30. Henry P. Van Dusen, “Caribbean Holiday,” Christian Century, August 17, 1955, 946–949. 31. Henry P. Van Dusen, Spirit, Son, and Father (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1958), 17–25. 32. George Hendry, The Holy Spirit in Christian Theology (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1958), 12–13, 16.

364   richard burnett 33. Hendry, Holy Spirit in Christian Theology, 26, 29, 41–42. 34. Hendry, 47. 35. Henry P. Van Dusen, The Vindication of Liberal Theology (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1963), 144. 36. Edward Dowey Jr., A Commentary on the Confession of 1967 and an Introduction to “Book of Confessions” (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1968), 81. 37. John Mackay, Ecumenics (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1964), 98. 38. Dowey, Commentary, 83. 39. United Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Report of the Special Committee on the Work of the Holy Spirit to the 182nd General Assembly (New York: Office of the General Assembly, 1970), 1. 40. UPCUSA, Report of the Special Committee, 1–8, 15. 41. UPCUSA, 22–27. 42. Council on Theology and Culture, Church Studies on the Holy Spirit (Atlanta, GA: PCUS, 1976), 28, 86, 112. 43. Presbyterian Church of America, “Pastoral Letter Concerning the Experience of the Holy Spirit in the Church Today” (1975). 44. Donald Fortson, Liberty in Non-essentials (Livonia, MI: Evangelical Presbyterian Church, 2016), 100–101. 45. Evangelical Presbyterian Church, “Position Paper on the Holy Spirit” (Orlando, FL: Office of the General Assembly, 1986). 46. Johanna Van Wijk-Bos, Reimagining God (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1995), 66–69, 77. 47. UPCUSA, Report of the Special Committee, 8–9. 48. See, for example, Akoko Robert Mbe, “ ‘You Must Be Born-Again’: The Pentecostalisation of the Presbyterian Church in Cameroon,” Journal of Contemporary African Studies 25 (2007): 299–315.

Bibliography Bryden, Walter Williamson. “The Holy Spirit and The Church.” In Separated unto the Gospel, 31–45. Toronto: Burns and MacEachern, 1956. Council on Theology and Culture, Church Studies on the Holy Spirit. Atlanta, GA: Presbyterian Church in the United States, 1976. Edwards, Jonathan. Religious Affections. Edited by John  E.  Smith. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1959. Evangelical Presbyterian Church. “Position Paper on the Holy Spirit.” Orlando, FL: Office of the General Assembly, 1986. Hendry, George. The Holy Spirit in Christian Theology. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1958. Heron, Alasdair. The Holy Spirit. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983. Marsden, George M. The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970. United Presbyterian Church in the USA. Report of the Special Committee on the Work of the Holy Spirit to the 182nd General Assembly. New York: Office of the General Assembly, 1970. Van Dusen, Henry P. Spirit, Son, and Father. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1958.

chapter 22

The Doctr i n e of th e Wor d of G od Michael S. Horton

Introduction In the fullness of time, Yahweh descended to deliver and dwell among his people. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). The words of the prophets led the covenant people to the Word incarnate. “Long ago, at many times and in many ways, God spoke to our fathers by the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed the heir of all things, through whom also he created the world. He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power” (Heb. 1:1–3). The chapter will summarize these various meanings of the phrase “word of God” in the Reformed and Presbyterian tradition by appealing especially to its confessions.1

The Incarnate Word First and foremost, the Reformed and Presbyterian tradition has identified Jesus as the Word of God in a qualitatively unique sense. “And so it must follow that he who is called God, the Word, the Son, and Jesus Christ already existed when all things were created by him” (Belgic Confession, art. 10). Chapter 6 of the Scots Confession teaches, When the fullness of time came God sent his Son, his eternal wisdom, the substance of his own glory, into this world, who took the nature of humanity from the substance of a woman, a virgin, by means of the Holy Ghost. And so was born the “just seed of David,” the “Angel of the great counsel of God,” the very Messiah promised, whom

366   michael s. horton we confess and acknowledge to be Emmanuel, true God and true man, two perfect natures united and joined in one person.  (chap. 6)

The Father’s works of creation, providence, redemption, and the consummation are all brought to pass in the eternal Son, through the eternal Spirit. Strictly speaking, then, we do not come to know God; rather, God reveals himself. No less in redemption than in creation, God is always the initiator. God is never revealed passively; God instead makes himself known in his own way, on his own terms, through words and deeds. In addition to the Son as the eternal Word, of the same essence as the Father and the Spirit, the phrase “word of God” is understood in Scripture and the Reformed tradition in other senses. First are the speech acts, by which God creates, sustains, redeems, and judges. Second is the written word—the canon or norm—for faith and practice.

The Sacramental Word God’s speech does not merely describe reality but creates it. God does things by speaking. “By the word of the lord the heavens were made, and all their host by the breath of his mouth (Ps. 33:6, NRSV). “The mighty one, God the lord, speaks and summons the earth from the rising of the sun to its setting” (Ps. 50:1). The consistent teaching of Scripture is that God’s word creates, sustains, destroys, saves, judges, makes alive, hardens, justifies, and renews. While the eternal Word is God in essence, these speech acts are God’s communication issuing from the Father, expressed in the Son, and brought to fulfillment by the Spirit. God’s saving speech is designated in the Reformed tradition as the sacramental word—that is, as means of grace. As Presbyterian theologian Geerhardus Vos observed, “Revelation is the interpretation of redemption.”2 God usually reveals what he is going to do, does what he promised or threatened, and then explains what he has done. WordAct-Word is the cycle of the onward march of God toward the climax of history in Jesus Christ.3 Even before the covenant people had the written scriptures, therefore, God’s “preaching” through the prophets kept their hope fastened on the coming Messiah—the seed of the woman promised to Adam and Eve, Abraham and Sarah, David and the prophets. As redemption progressed, so, too, did God’s revelation. As the canon expanded, it gave God’s people a written constitution as the basis for knowing his commands and promises. Based on this canon, the church preaches the Word of God. Just as God created the world by his words, he keeps moving history toward its goal by speaking powerful words of judgment and grace.

Law and Gospel For Presbyterians, the law and the gospel are complementary aspects of the Word of God. God does various things through speaking. Through his law, he guides and judges;

the doctrine of the word of god   367 through his gospel, he announces salvation despite human rebellion. Scripture itself speaks of God’s law as a word that brings judgment. “The Lord has sent a word against Jacob, and it will fall on Israel” (Isa. 9:8). The essence of the law to is not to condemn but rather to reveal God’s moral will and to execute God’s sentence of blessing or curse based on the actions of human beings—the covenant partner. Given the condition of humanity in Adam as transgressors, the law cannot but condemn the entire race as guilty. Thus God’s saving speech is his gospel. The Protestant Reformers emphasized that the preached word is not merely human instruction and interpretation of Scripture (though it is certainly that); it is also a “living and active word” that divides the deepest recesses of the conscience, heart, and mind (Heb. 4:12), the “sword of the Spirit” (Eph. 6:17) that raises those spiritually dead to life (Ezek. 37; Eph. 2:1-5; 1 Pet. 1:23; James 1:18). Like Paul, the Reformers, in John Calvin’s words, were concerned “to show how great is the difference between the righteousness of the law and that of the gospel.”4 “The difference between the Law and the Gospel lies in this: that the latter does not like the former promise life under the condition of works, but from faith.”5 This evangelical word also saves us from God’s judgment: we are justified and renewed. “Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17). We “have been born again, not of perishable seed but of imperishable, through the living and abiding word of God” (1 Pet. 1:23). The proclaimed gospel is “the power of God unto salvation for everyone who believes” (Rom 1:16). God promises that “my word . . . shall not return to me empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose, and shall succeed in the thing for which I sent it” (Isa. 55:11). Reformed churches insisted, in the words of Peter Martyr Vermigli, that the “Gospel should be distinguished from law and law from Gospel.” “But this cannot be done by those who ascribe justification to works, and confuse them.”6 Heinrich Bullinger included the distinction between the law and the gospel in the Second Helvetic Confession: “The Gospel is indeed opposed to the Law. For the Law works wrath and pronounces a curse, whereas the Gospel preaches grace and blessing” (chap.  13). In Heidelberg, Herborn, Marburg, and Bremen, places where the Reformed movement was strongly influenced by Philip Melanchthon, the concept of the covenant came to dominate dogmatics.7 Like Melanchthon, Calvin continued to speak of law and gospel as referring to (a) the Old Testament and New Testament and (b) condemnation and justification. This important nuance is found explicitly in Paul, who refers to “law” in both of these senses, even in the same sentence: “But now the righteousness of God has been manifested apart from the law, although the Law and the Prophets bear witness to it” (Rom 3:21, emphasis added). Calvin acknowledges these two senses: “Paul harmonizes law and faith, and yet sets the righteousness of one in opposition to that of the other.” Why? “The law has a twofold meaning; it sometimes includes the whole of what has been taught by Moses, and sometimes that part only which was peculiar to his ministration, which consisted of precepts, rewards, and punishments.” The goal of his ministry was to lead the people of God “to despair as to their own righteousness, that they might flee to the haven of divine

368   michael s. horton goodness, and so to Christ himself. . . . And whenever the word law is thus strictly taken, Moses is by implication opposed to Christ: and then we must consider what the law contains, as separate from the gospel.”8 In Commentary on the Heidelberg Catechism, Zacharius Ursinus (the catechism’s primary author) stated, “The doctrine of the church is the entire and uncorrupted doctrine of the law and gospel concerning the true God, together with his will, works, and worship.”9 He then elucidates what was to be a typical Reformed statement of the distinction that was held in common with the Lutheran confession: We have, in the law and gospel, the whole of the Scriptures comprehending the doctrine revealed from heaven for our salvation. . . . The law prescribes and enjoins what is to be done, and forbids what ought to be avoided: whilst the gospel announces the free remission of sin, through and for the sake of Christ.10

Furthermore, Ursinus argues, “The law is known from nature; the gospel is divinely revealed.”11 Theodore Beza, in his 1560 Confessio, included the section “Law and Gospel,” referring to law and gospel as “the two parts of the Word of God,” adding the warning that “ignorance of this distinction between Law and Gospel is one of the principal sources of the abuses which corrupted and still corrupt Christianity.”12 In fact, in Reformed Symbolics, Wilhelm Niesel observes, “Reformed theology recognises the contrast between Law and Gospel, in a way similar to Lutheranism. We read in the Second Helvetic Confession: ‘The Gospel is indeed opposed to the Law. For the Law works wrath and pronounces a curse, whereas the Gospel preaches grace and blessing.’ ”13 However, both Lutheran and Reformed confessions affirm that God’s law remains the moral norm for believers: the so-called third use of the law.

“. . . Especially the Preached Word” Presbyterians identify the sacramental word especially with preaching: God proclaims his promises through the prophets and apostles and those today whom he calls as messengers. Preachers are heralds, bringing good news from the battlefield of Christ’s victory and treaty of peace. They teach, explain, and exhort, and the Spirit employs their words to bring death to the old self and life to the new self. This emphasis became incorporated into numerous Reformed and Presbyterian confessions. In the Second Helvetic Confession, for example, we read, “The preaching of the word of God is the word of God.” The author of this confession, Henrich Bullinger, was especially concerned about radical sects that were exalting a supposedly higher inner word of the Spirit that God revealed directly to them over the external word that is written and preached. Reformers dubbed these extreme Protestant groups as “enthusiasts,” and accused them of despising

the doctrine of the word of god   369 the ordinary means of grace through the human embassy of prophets, apostles, and lawfully called servants. The Confession does not teach that preaching has the same authority as Scripture. Scripture is inspired and inerrant, whereas sermons are illumined and fallible. However, the content of what is delivered is the same: Christ with all his benefits. Insofar as it conforms to the biblical norm, the Spirit makes the weak speech of sinful preachers nothing less than “the power of God unto salvation for everyone who believes” (Rom. 1:16). The Confession continues, Neither do we think that therefore the outward preaching is to be thought as fruitless because the instruction in true religion depends on the inward illumination of the Spirit. . . . God could indeed, by his Holy Spirit, or by the ministry of an angel, without the ministry of St. Peter, have taught Cornelius in the Acts; but, nevertheless, he refers him to Peter, of whom the angel speaking says, “He shall tell you what you ought to do” (chap. 2).

To be sure, Scripture directs us to seek the Spirit’s inward illumination in studying God’s word, apart from which we cannot understand or embrace it. Nevertheless, the Confession adds, “inward illumination does not eliminate external preaching” (chap. 2). We find a similar emphasis in the Westminster Larger Catechism: Q. 155. How is the word made effectual to salvation? A. The Spirit of God maketh the reading, but especially the preaching of the word, an effectual means of enlightening, convincing, and humbling sinners.

Several points are noteworthy in Q. 155. First, the word does not work by itself, but the Spirit works within us through the word. Second, the divines lay special stress on the preaching of the word as a means of grace. God’s word written and preached not only describes the new creation and exhorts us to enter into it, but also creates the reality of which it speaks and ushers us into it, “enlightening, convincing, and humbling sinners” by the law and driving them outside of themselves to cling to Christ in the gospel. An inner word cannot do this. We require an external, public and objective announcement of God’s judgment and promise, since we suppress the truth in unrighteousness, thereby distorting God’s judgment and resisting God’s grace. Therefore, God’s word is to be preached only by those “duly approved and called to that office” (Q. 158). Those who are called to this ministry “are to preach sound doctrine, diligently . . . ; faithfully, making known the whole counsel of God; wisely” (Q.  159). Moreover, hearers of the word should “attend upon it with diligence, preparation, and prayer; examine what they hear by the Scriptures; receive the truth with faith, love, meekness, and readiness of mind, as the Word of God; meditate . . . ; hide it in their hearts, and bring forth the fruit of it in their lives” (Q. 160).

370   michael s. horton

The Canonical Word Reformed Christians assert that God reveals himself not in his essence but clothed in his works. This self-revelation is given uniquely, in a qualitatively distinct manner, in Jesus Christ—the Word incarnate. Yet God also reveals himself through the world that he has made and through the words of the prophets and apostles in Holy Scripture, which are proclaimed (but not supplemented) even today. The traditional categories are general and special revelation.

The Need for Scripture Even in creating the world, Presbyterians emphasize, God has left his fingerprints everywhere to provide an awareness of and provoke our praise and delight in him. The Psalmist exclaims, The heavens are telling the glory of God; And the firmament proclaims his handiwork  (Ps. 19:1, NRSV).

God’s revelation of himself through creation is well-attested, not only in the first chapters of Genesis, but also in the many acts of calling on the whole creation to witness to the covenants God made with humans. In addition to the Psalms, the wisdom literature appeals to God’s design in nature as revealing the love, justice, righteousness, sovereignty, and wisdom of God in everyday life. Jesus also teaches us to trust in God’s providential care by appealing to the obvious order in nature (Luke 12:24, 27). Besides his existence and power, God’s moral attributes of justice, goodness, and righteousness, Presbyterians assert, are known by every human being “from what has been made, so that they are without excuse” (Rom. 1:18–20). But for redemption we need special revelation—indeed, a canonical word that provides a clear and unchanging source for true wisdom, salvation, and life. According to the Westminster Confession, Although the light of nature, and the works of creation and providence do so far manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power of God, as to leave men inexcusable, yet are they not sufficient to give that knowledge of God, and of His will, which is necessary unto salvation. Therefore it pleased the Lord, at sundry times, and in divers manners, to reveal Himself, and to declare that His will unto His Church; and afterwards for the better preserving and propagating of the truth . . ., to commit the same wholly unto writing; which makes the Holy Scripture to be most necessary; those former ways of God’s revealing His will unto His people being now ceased  (1.1).

the doctrine of the word of god   371

The Source and Authority of Scripture The Reformers and Roman Catholic leaders both affirmed that the Bible is God’s written word, inspired and inerrant. However, the Reformers criticized the Roman Catholic Church for not affirming that Scripture possesses an authority that is qualitatively different from all merely human interpretations. The first chapter of the 1566 Second Helvetic Confession declares, “We believe and confess the canonical Scriptures of the holy prophets and apostles of both Testaments to be the true Word of God, and to have sufficient authority of themselves, not of men” (chap. 1). Scripture does not merely contain the word of God, Reformed Christians have long argued, but is in fact the word of God. The Confession asserts scripture is the word of god (chap. 1). Analogous to the incarnation, Presbyterians contend, God’s word is united inseparably with human language. Coming from God, the scriptures, many Presbyterians have argued, are inerrant in all that they affirm. “For no prophecy was ever produced by the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit” (2 Pet. 1:21). And the scriptures are thoroughly human. Sin being accidental rather than essential to our nature, Scripture can be thoroughly human and at the same time preserved by the Spirit from error. Presbyterians emphasize that the prophets and apostles were not personally inspired or infallible, as they attest themselves in many places. Yet as the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15 attests, they arrived at their conclusions based on Scripture: at the time, the Old Testament, as well as Christ’s fulfillment of those prophecies. Rather than their persons, it is the writings of the prophets that the early church regarded as inspired. Although they disagreed about some matters, Peter placed Paul’s “letters” on par with “the other Scriptures” (2 Pet. 3:16). Reformed theology rejects the false choice between God as the origin and the prophets and apostles as the means. Scripture is nothing less than the word of God in thoroughly human words. Therefore, “the authority of the Holy Scripture, for which it ought to be believed, and obeyed, depends not upon the testimony of any man, or Church; but wholly upon God (who is truth itself) the author thereof: and therefore it is to be received, because it is the Word of God” (Westminster Confession 1.4). The church is not the mother of the word, but rather its offspring. The Scots Confession asserts that “the Scriptures of God sufficient to instruct and make perfect the man of God, so do we affirm and avow their authority to be from God, and not to depend on men or angels” (chap. 19). Similarly, the Westminster Confession declares, “The supreme judge by which all controversies of religion are to be determined, and all decrees of councils, opinions of ancient writers, doctrines of men, and private spirits, are to be examined, and in whose sentence we are to rest, can be no other but the Holy Spirit speaking in the Scripture” (1.10). The Trinitarian emphasis is crucial in Reformed accounts of Scripture’s source and authority: it comes from the Father, with the Son as the principal substance, and the Spirit as the inspiring and illumining agent.

372   michael s. horton On this basis, the Reformed and Presbyterian churches have historically affirmed what came to be called the regulative principle—namely, that Scripture alone determines what we are to believe, how we are to worship, and what is required for daily life. Whatever Scripture teaches must be embraced by all the faithful, and whatever is not taught in Scripture must not be imposed on the faithful as necessary for faith and practice. Far from being legalistic, this restriction of magisterial authority to Scripture upholds Christian liberty in matters on which believers may differ in their judgments, placing them beyond the reach of the doctrines and commands of mere human beings.

The Clarity and Sufficiency of Scripture It would not be of much help to us, Presbyterians emphasize, if Scripture were inspired, inerrant, and authoritative but not clear. The 1561 Belgic Confession treats the sufficiency of Scripture as a logical result of its divine source and authority: We believe that this Holy Scripture contains the will of God completely and that everything one must believe to be saved is sufficiently taught in it. . . . For since it is forbidden to add to or subtract from the Word of God, this plainly demonstrates that the teaching is perfect and complete in all respects. Therefore we must not consider human writings—no matter how holy their authors may have been—equal to the divine writings; nor may we put custom, nor the majority, nor age, nor the passage of time or persons, nor councils, decrees, or official decisions above the truth of God  (art. 7).

The perspicuity (or clarity) of Scripture was a key issue in the Reformation debate, as it remains today, not only between Reformed and Roman Catholic communions, but within various Protestant traditions. In fact, the chief Roman Catholic argument against the sufficiency of Scripture was that it is obscure and requires an infallible teacher to explain what it means. We only know that Scripture is God’s word in the first place because the holy church has told us so, the Council of Trent (1545–1563) argued. If the scriptures come from the church, then the church should have the authority to interpret them. The Reformers affirmed the church’s teaching role, but they insisted that it is a ministerial rather than a magisterial office. The Westminster Confession concludes that the Bible’s authority “for which it ought to be believed, and obeyed, depends not upon the testimony of any man, or Church; but wholly upon God.”14 The divines add that “the heavenliness of the matter, the efficacy of the doctrine, the majesty of the style, the consent of all the parts, the scope of the whole . . . the many other incomparable excellencies” verify that the Bible is God’s word, but the “full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority thereof, is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit bearing witness by and with the Word in our hearts” (1.4). Christ has given pastors and teachers an authority (especially collectively) to explain the scriptures and to reach conclusions about their instructions concerning doctrine, worship, and life. However, this ministerial authority always depends on the magisterial authority of Scripture, not vice versa.

the doctrine of the word of god   373 The church may err, but Scripture is “the infallible rule for faith and life,” as the Westminster Confession puts it in chapter 1, section 2. Church tradition, councils, synods, and assemblies function much as case precedent does in constitutional law, whereas Scripture remains the unchanging constitution. In other words, Presbyterians argued, Scripture is its own teacher. The Bible must be translated in the various languages of Christ’s universal body or it will remain the treasure of only a select few. Furthermore, if the original Hebrew and Greek texts have been mistranslated at key points, as even Roman Catholic exegetes today recognize they were by the Latin Vulgate, then the church cannot properly claim to have been even an infallible translator, much less teacher. But is this argument of the Reformers and the Westminster divines circular? How can Scripture be its own interpreter? It is not circular, because the claim is not that the same passage interprets itself, but rather that the clearer passages should be use to interpret those that are less clear. Indeed, the Westminster Confession acknowledges, “All things in Scripture are not alike plain in themselves, nor alike clear unto all.”15 The Confession also lays down this important rule: “The whole counsel of God concerning all things necessary for His own glory, man’s salvation, faith and life, is either expressly set down in Scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from Scripture: unto which nothing at any time is to be added, whether by new revelations of the Spirit, or traditions of men” (1.4, emphasis added). For example, although the word “Trinity” is not found in Scripture, this dogma is a good and necessary deduction from many passages of Scripture that teach that God is one and others that teach that the Father is God, the Son is God, and the Holy Spirit is God. Reformed and Presbyterian denominations hold church councils and tradition in high esteem. “We do not deny that the church has many functions in relation to Scripture,” Swiss theologian Francis Turretin observed. She is (1) the keeper of the oracles of God to whom they are committed and who preserves the authentic tables of the covenant of grace with the greatest fidelity, like a notary (Rom. 3:2); (2) the guide, to point out the Scriptures and lead us to them (Is. 30:21); (3) the defender, to vindicate and defend them by separating the genuine books from the spurious . . . (1 Tim. 3:15); (4) the herald who sets forth and promulgates them (2 Cor. 5:19; Rom. 10:16); (5) the interpreter inquiring into the unfolding of the true sense. . . . But all these imply a ministerial only and not a magisterial power.16

Against both the charges of Rome and the actual practice of the Anabaptists, the Second Helvetic Confession adds, “The apostle Peter has said that the Holy Scriptures are not of private interpretation” (2 Pet. 1:20). Nowhere in these confessions do we find a “right of private interpretation.” On the contrary, God has placed teachers and pastors in the church so that the whole body may be built up together in the unity of the faith and not be tossed back and forth by every wind of doctrine (Eph. 4:11–16). Especially when pastors and elders gather in an assembly (as in Acts 15), the Spirit illumines hearts and minds to reach agreement based on God’s word. Whereas the Reformed tradition rejects private judgment, the Confession adds,

374   michael s. horton We hold that the interpretation of the Scripture to be orthodox and genuine which is gleaned from the Scriptures themselves (from the nature of the language in which they were written, likewise according to the circumstances in which they were set down, and expounded in the light of and unlike passages and of many and clearer passages) and which agree with the rule of faith and love, and contributes much to the glory of God and man’s salvation  (chap. 2).

True interpretation of Scripture is to be found in Scripture itself done together as Christ’s body, led by pastors and elders. Councils and traditions are respected, but they are regarded as fallible courts. The qualitative distinction between Scripture and tradition is based on a number of considerations. Most centrally, Rome failed to acknowledge the difference between the extraordinary ministry of the prophets and apostles and the ordinary ministry of teachers and pastors. Just as the prophets laid the foundation on which rabbinical tradition was to build, the apostles laid the foundation upon which ordinary ministers build (1 Cor. 3:10–11; Eph. 2:20). 1 Corinthians 3:10–11 warns that some ministers will build improperly, but the foundation itself is God’s unchanging and perfect source of truth. The rabbis of Jesus’s day never explicitly claimed that their words were on the same level as the words of the prophets. Nevertheless, Jesus upbraided them for following this assumption in practice, setting aside the word of God for the sake of their traditions (Matt. 15:1–7). Thus Jesus himself establishes the distinction between Scripture and tradition. Rome blurred this distinction when the Council of Trent taught, for the first time in any official statement, “This truth [of the Gospel] is contained partly [partim] in written books, partly [partim] in unwritten traditions.”17 On this double basis—the presuppositions that Scripture is not inherently clear even on the most important matters and that it is not complete as God’s word given through the apostles—Roman Catholic teaching denies that Scripture is sufficient. The Council appealed to Paul’s exhortation in 2 Thessalonians 2:15: to “stand firm and hold to the traditions that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter.” On this basis, Rome has argued that there are unwritten (oral) traditions that were not committed to Scripture but were handed down to the apostles’ successors. The Reformers countered that Paul is referring to the preaching and teaching of the apostles while they were living. In the context of rivalries between teachers, Paul laid down this rule for the Corinthians to “learn by us not to go beyond what is written, that none of you may be puffed up in favor of one against another” (1 Cor. 4:6). The traditions of the apostles were not equivalent to the traditions of the elders but to the inspired words of the prophets. Like the other apostles, Paul speaks of his testimony as original, direct, and complete (1 Cor. 15:3; Gal. 1), but he commands ordinary pastors who come after him to “receive” and “guard the good deposit that was entrusted to you” (2 Tim. 1:14). Scripture, then, is the text containing all that God wished to have preserved as normative for all times and places. He puts his words in the mouths of its authors. The church’s interpretation of Scripture is the new covenant version of the traditions of the elders; it is to be held in high esteem but under the norm of Scripture. The Second

the doctrine of the word of god   375 Helvetic Confession asserts that Christians should not argue their “case with only the opinions of the fathers or decrees of councils; much less by received customs, or by the large number of those who share the same opinion, or by the prescription of a long time.” To be sure, when there is a dispute, a judge must decide, but there is no “other judge than God himself, who proclaims by the Holy Scriptures what is true.” “So we do assent to the judgments of spiritual men which are drawn from the Word of God,” the Confession continues. Likewise we reject human traditions . . . as though they were divine and apostolical, delivered to the Church by the living voice of the apostles, and, as it were, through the hands of apostolical men to succeeding bishops which, when compared with the Scriptures, disagree with them; and by their disagreement show that they are not Apostolic at all.18

The true church has always had to distinguish itself from the false church, the Scots Confession reminds us. Jesus himself identified the religious leaders of his day with those who murdered the prophets and rejected God’s word, the Confession adds. The test cannot be antiquity or numbers. Only by the marks of the true preaching of the Word, properly administering the sacraments, and exercising church discipline can the true church be recognized. We know that a true church exists among us today, says the Confession, “because of the doctrine taught in our Kirks, contained in the written Word of God, that is, the Old and New Testaments, in those books which were originally reckoned as canonical” (chap. 20). Consequently, we affirm that in these all things necessary to be believed for the salvation of man are sufficiently expressed. The interpretation of Scripture, we confess, does not belong to any private or public person, nor yet to any Kirk for pre-eminence or precedence, personal or local, which it has above others, but pertains to the Spirit of God by whom the Scriptures were written  (chap. 18).

Modern Presbyterian Debates The modernist-fundamentalist controversy, especially in the United States, set the coordinates for many of the most divisive debates of twentieth-century Protestantism, including in the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA). While the PCUSA was growing, both in numbers and prominence, considerable opposition arose among American Presbyterians to long-established approaches to biblical studies in Germany. Only recently emerging from the conflict over slavery and the abolitionist movement that (in addition to doctrinal issues) had contributed to the New School–Old School split from 1837 to 1869, the growing squalor caused by urbanization and industrialization provoked new debates over the church’s interpretation of Scripture in relation

376   michael s. horton to social problems. The Darwinian theory of evolution pressed Presbyterians to reconsider the inerrancy of Scripture more generally as conclusions in modern science contradicted long-held interpretations of the relevant passages and, indeed, of God’s miraculous intervention in the world. Benjamin B. Warfield, who had studied with Christoph Ernst Luthardt and Franz Delitzsch, in Germany, and Archibald A. Hodge, wrote The Inspiration of the Bible, published in 1881 by the denominational publishing house.19 Advancing an organic rather than a mechanical theory, the authors argued that Scripture is a fully human product, written over many centuries while being the direct medium of God’s revelation. Identifying inspiration with the original text rather than the writers, they acknowledged the limited understanding of the authors; it is not in everything that they assume (e.g., a geocentric cosmology) that their writing is inspired, but in what they affirm. Hodge and Warfield acknowledged discrepancies in the scriptures, but imputed actual errors to copyists and alleged contradictions to the diverse standpoints of witnesses as well as to failures of interpreters to comprehend sufficiently the background or intentions of the authors. Interestingly, Warfield was friendly to evolution, as long as it was shorn of its anti-supernaturalistic presuppositions.20 However, the method of higher criticism, he argued, belonged to this essentially atheistic worldview. While conceding Warfield’s formidable intellect, critics insisted that he was defending a view that was no longer tenable in the modern age.21 For his part, Warfield considered theological modernism a heresy, tethered to the spirit of the age, rather than a legitimate attempt to bring the Christian faith in general and Presbyterianism in particular into the twentieth century. A distinguished representative of higher criticism, Charles Augustus Briggs, brought the first of many test cases to the Presbyterian Church. Briggs was a professor of Hebrew and Biblical Theology at Union Seminary in New York and an editor of the Presbyterian Review. In 1892, Briggs was tried for heresy by the New York presbytery. On the basis of his Inaugural Address, which some of his colleagues described as irritating and offensive in tone, he was charged with teaching that reason and church tradition are the fonts of divine authority even apart from Scripture, that the original autographs contain errors, and that much of messianic prophecy was not and could not be fulfilled in Christ. Critics also accused him of denying the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch and Isaiah as the author of the second half of the book of Isaiah.22 Although he was acquitted, the case was appealed to the General Assembly (1893), which defrocked and excommunicated Briggs, who then joined the Episcopal Church. Seething confrontations broke out into widespread conflict in 1922 when Harry Emerson Fosdick, a Baptist who nevertheless pastored the famous First Presbyterian Church in New York City, preached a sermon titled “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?” A year later, after the presbytery ordained two ministers who could not affirm the virgin birth, the General Assembly once again affirmed the “five fundamentals” (Christ’s deity, the virgin birth, vicarious atonement, miracles and resurrection, and the inerrancy of Scripture). In response, modernists produced the Auburn Affirmation in 1923. The debate over the nature and authority of Scripture quickly broke out into denominationwide controversies over the “fundamentals” of Christianity. Allied to the spirit of the

the doctrine of the word of god   377 age, Princeton Seminary New Testament scholar J. Gresham Machen argued in Christianity and Liberalism (1923) that theological modernism was not a position on a spectrum.23 For many across denominational lines, this terse volume provided the essential apologia for conservative Christianity. Modernists also launched trials to depose their theological opponents. Among those who lost his credentials was Machen, who had already founded Westminster Theological Seminary, in 1929, after the decisive “reorganization” of Princeton’s faculty and board. In 1936, Machen, now defrocked, led a group of ministers and laypeople in forming the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. Many evangelicals in mainline denominations, including the PCUSA, were increasingly drawn to the view of Scripture associated with the great Swiss theologian Karl Barth. Based on an actualist ontology (God’s being is in his acts), Barth argued that revelation is never a deposit but always an event—the event, in fact, of Christ himself.24 Consequently, Scripture itself is not directly revelation but rather is the human testimony to revelation.25 Therefore, argued Barth, we may speak of “the Word of God not as proclamation and Scripture alone but as God’s revelation in proclamation and Scripture.”26 The witness of the prophets and the apostles to revelation is normative. However, this “veiled” form in which revelation comes to us is not only fallible but fallen (analogous to his view of Christ’s human nature).27 Consequently, “the Bible is not in itself and as such God’s past revelation” but is a fallible, though normative, witness to revelation. “The Bible is God’s Word to the extent that God causes it to be his Word, to the extent that He speaks through it.”28 Moving away from the position of Abraham Kuyper and Herman Bavinck, G. C. Berkouwer’s Holy Scripture (1975) defended a view of Scripture that accepted more higher-critical interests and rejected inerrancy.29 Berkouwer claimed that inerrantists “are fascinated by a miraculous ‘correctness’” that will “damage reverence for Scripture more than it will further it.”30 “In appealing to its authority,” he says, “we are not dealing with a formal principle but with a deep spiritual witness to Jesus Christ.”31 “The slogan, ‘It stands written,’ is not a magic wand that can be waved to eliminate all problems.”32 Berkouwer had a significant impact on younger evangelical scholars in the UPCUSA. Among them were Jack Rogers (a student of Berkouwer’s and translator of Holy Scripture) and Donald McKim. Their 1979 book The Authority and Interpretation of the Bible: An Historical Approach defended inspiration but not inerrancy. At the same time, following a course more in line with Friedrich Schleiermacher than Barth, some Presbyterian scholars defended a view that lodges inspiration and authority in the church community.33 These debates within the UPCUSA spilled out into mainstream Protestantism and played a large role in the formation of the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) in 1973. Throughout the 1970s and 1980s, conservative Presbyterians played a major leadership role in a growing movement of evangelicals across denominations in defense of inerrancy. Some, like Harold Lindsell, remained in the UPCUSA, but most joined more conservative existing denominations, such as the older Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod (RPCES) and the Reformed Presbyterian Church in North America, or the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and the newly formed PCA. After a protracted

378   michael s. horton presbytery and civil trial, James Montgomery Boice, a graduate of Princeton Seminary and the University of Basel, led Philadelphia’s historic Tenth Presbyterian Church into the RPCES (which merged in 1982 with the PCA). Boice, along with the UPCUSA (later, the PCA) minister and theologian R. C. Sproul, founded the International Council on Biblical Inerrancy, which produced the Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy in 1978. Francis A. Schaeffer, a RPCES theologian, also played a large role in this movement throughout the 1970s and early 1980s. Tragically, the controversy over Scripture divided the UPCUSA. Nevertheless, the tradition continues to produce more than its fair share of biblical scholars and theologians who, on both sides of the divide, offer rich explorations of the Bible that speak to our age.

Notes 1. This chapter quotes from the Westminster Confession of Faith and the Larger Catechism (1647), in The Trinity Hymnal (Atlanta, GA: Great Commission Publishing, 1990); the Belgic Confession (1561), Psalter Hymnal (Grand Rapids, MI: Board of Publications of the Christian Reformed Church, 1976); the Scots Confession (1560) and Second Helvetic Confession (1564), in Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Presbyterian Church U.S.A. General Assembly, 2007). 2. Geerhardus Vos, Biblical Theology (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1948), 6. 3. Vos, Biblical Theology, 6–7. 4. John Calvin on Romans 10:5, in Calvin’s Commentaries, vol. 19, trans. John Owen (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1996), 186–187. 5. John Calvin, “Antidote to the Council of Trent,” in Selected Works of John Calvin: Tracts and Letters, ed. Henry Beveridge and Jules Bonnet, 7 vols. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1983), 3:156, 250. 6. Peter Martyr Vermigli, in Predestination and Justification: Two Theological Loci, vol. 8 of the Peter Martyr Library, trans. and ed. Frank A. James III, Sixteenth Century Essays and Studies 68 (Kirksville, MO: Truman State University Press, 2003), 115. 7. Otto Weber, Foundations of Dogmatics, vol. 1, trans. Darrell L. Guder (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1981), 125. 8. John Calvin, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans, trans. and ed. John Owen (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 1979), 386–387. 9. Zacharias Ursinus, The Commentary of Dr. Zacharias Ursinus on the Heidelberg Catechism, trans. George Washington Willard (1852; repr., Phillipsburg, Presbyterian and Reformed Publishing, 1985), 1. 10. Ursinus, Commentary, 2–3. 11. Ursinus, 3. 12. Theodore Beza, The Christian Faith, trans. James Clark (East Sussex, UK: Focus Christian Ministries Trust, 1992), 41–42. 13. Wilhelm Niesel, Reformed Symbolics: A Comparison of Catholicism, Orthodoxy and Protestantism, trans. David Lewis (Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1962), 217. 14. Westminster Confession of Faith, 1.4.

the doctrine of the word of god   379 15. Westminster Confession of Faith, 1.7. See also Westminster Larger Catechism, Q. 156–157, on the importance of reading the Bible in translation among all the faithful. 16. Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, ed. James T. Dennison Jr., trans. George Musgrave Giger (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1992), 1:87–90. 17. Council of Trent, 5:31. 18. Second Helvetic Confession (1566), Chapter 2: “On the Interpretation of Holy Scripture, Fathers, Councils and Tradition,” in Book of Confessions (Louisville: PC(USA) General Assembly, 2014), 5.014 (p. 80). 19. B.  B.  Warfield, The Inspiration and Authority of the Bible, ed. Samuel  G.  Craig, rev. ed. (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1948). 20. David  N.  Livingstone and Mark  A.  Noll, “A Biblical Inerrantist as Evolutionist,” Isis 91 (2000): 283–304. See also Fred Zaspel, “B.  B.  Warfield on Creation and Evolution,” Themelios 35 (2010): 2. 21. On Warfield’s theology, including his view of Scripture, see Kim Riddlebarger, The Lion of Princeton (Bellingham, WA: Lexham Press, 2016); and Fred. G. Zaspel, The Theology of B. B. Warfield: A Systematic Summary (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2010). 22. “Briggs, Charles Augustus,” in The Century Cyclopedia of Names, ed. Benjamin E. Smith (New York: Century, 1906), 183. See also D. G. Hart and J. R. Meuther, “Turning Points of American History, part 8: Confessional Revision of 1903,” New Horizons, August– September, 2005, p. 1. 23. J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1923). See also D.  G.  Hart, Defending the Faith: J.  Gresham Machen and the Crisis of Conservative Protestantism in Modern America (Philipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2003); and George M. Marsden, Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1991), 182–201. 24.  Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 1: The Doctrine of the Word of God, ed. G. W. Bromiley and T.  F.  Torrance, trans. G.  W.  Bromiley (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1956), 295–296; Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 2, pt. 1, The Doctrine of God, ed. G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance, trans. G. W. Bromiley (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957), 49, 51, 53, 68, 170–171. 25. Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 2, pt. 1, 527, 528, 530. 26. Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 1, 132–137. 27. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 2, The Doctrine of the Word of God, ed. G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance, trans. G. T. Thomson and Harold Knight (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1956), 510–512, 531. 28. Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 1, 109. 29. See Hendrick Krabbendam, “B. B. Warfield vs. G. C. Berkouwer on Scripture,” “Summit papers presented at the International Council of Biblical Inerrancy, Chicago, October 1978, 15.1–15.31. 30. G. C. Berkouwer, Holy Scripture, trans. Jack B. Rogers (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1975), 183. 31. G. C. Berkouwer, A Half Century of Theology, trans. Lewis B. Smedes (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1977), 138. 32. Berkouwer, Half Century of Theology, 141. 33. See, for example, Paul J. Achtemeier, The Inspiration of Scripture: Problems and Proposals (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980), 125–135.

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Bibliography Achtemeier, Paul  J. The Inspiration of Scripture: Problems and Proposals. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1980. Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics. Vol. 1, Pt. 1. Edited by G.  W.  Bromiley and T.  F.  Torrance. Translated by G. W. Bromiley. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1956. Barth, Karl. Church Dogmatics. Vol. 1, Pt. 2. Edited by G.  W.  Bromiley and T.  F.  Torrance. Translated by G. T. Thomason and Harold Knight. Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957. Berkouwer, G.  C. Holy Scripture. Translated by Jack  B.  Rogers. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1975. Hart, D. G. Defending the Faith: J. Gresham Machen and the Crisis of Conservative Protestantism in Modern America. Philipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2003. Machen, J. Gresham. Christianity and Liberalism. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1923. Marsden, George  M. Fundamentalism and Evangelicalism. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1991. Niesel, Wilhelm. Reformed Symbolics: A Comparison of Catholicism, Orthodoxy and Protestantism. Translated by David Lewis. Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1962. Vos, Geerhardus. Biblical Theology. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1948. Warfield, Benjamin  B. The Inspiration and Authority of the Bible. Rev. ed. Edited by Samuel G. Craig. Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1948.

chapter 23

The Doctr i n e of the  Ch u rch Anna Case-Winters

Introduction For Presbyterians, the origin of the doctrine of the church is not the beginning of the Presbyterian Church in the seventeenth century. Presbyterians trace their roots back to the first-century church, forward through the Reformation, and on into the stream of the Reformation established by Reformed theologians such as Ulrich Zwingli and John Calvin. The Presbyterian understanding of the church, therefore, may be said to be catholic, evangelical, and reformed. The Reformed tradition’s doctrine of the church is an appropriation and nuancing of insights drawn from both the early church and the evangelical revolt of the sixteenth-century. To these, are added some particular emphases that characterize them as Reformed. The Presbyterian doctrine of the church cannot be separated from the larger Reformed understanding that is based on these three major influences. This chapter will draw upon Presbyterian resources, especially the Presbyterian Book of Confessions, to articulate the fundamental Reformed understanding of the church from a Presbyterian perspective.

Catholic The Presbyterian Church may be understood to be “catholic” in its clear continuity with the church and the doctrinal decisions worked out in the early ecumenical councils. The Trinitarian framework and the understanding of the person of Christ which came to shape there we share in common. Another evidence of profound continuity is in the Presbyterian embrace of the ancient self-understanding of the church as “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic.”

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Continuity with the Early Ecumenical Councils The Presbyterian Church understands itself to be in continuity with the early church and the ecumenical councils and relies on the articulations of Trinitarian and Christological doctrine found there. This reliance on the fundamental understandings of the ancient church and the ecumenical councils is at the root of the insistence that “to be Reformed is to be ecumenical.” The Presbyterian Church’s commitment to ecumenism is long-standing.1 The church has been a founding member of many local, national, and global ecumenical efforts. Presbyterians have been at the forefront of leadership in such organizations as Churches Uniting in Christ, the National Council of Churches, the World Council of Churches, and the World Communion of Reformed Churches. Presbyterians provide a biblical and confessional basis for their commitment to unity in their statement “The Ecumenical Stance of the Presbyterian Church (USA).”2 They insist that the church is “catholic.” “We, therefore call this church catholic because it is universal, scattered through all parts of the world and extended unto all times and is not limited to any times or places.”3 This affirmation of catholicity involves an explicit rejection of claims that confine the church to any one group of believers. “The unity of the church is compatible with a wide variety of forms, but it is hidden and distorted when variant forms are allowed to harden into sectarian divisions, exclusive denominations and rival factions.”4 This statement affirms that while Presbyterians embrace difference, they reject division. “Our divisions obscure our unity, but they cannot destroy it. When we come together at ecumenical tables we are seeking to make visible what, by the grace of God is already the case. We are one in Christ.”5 This embrace of ecumenism in the Presbyterian Church is not a matter of devaluing the Presbyterian heritage or manifesting doctrinal indifference. On the contrary, the Presbyterian Church joyfully brings its best gifts to enrich the feast at the ecumenical table. It anticipates receiving gifts as well as offering them and willingly engages in the “mutual affirmation and admonition” that are common to ecumenical dialogue.6

Affirmation of the Traditional Four Marks of the Church Presbyterians affirm the traditional four marks of the church named in the ecumenical Nicene Creed of ad 325. The church is “one, holy, catholic and apostolic.” Although the Reformed accept these four marks as essential for the church, they recognize that the church does not fully embody them. They acknowledge the great gulf between the church’s essence and its lived reality. Each of the four marks can thus be seen to be qualified in some sense. Theologically, though the Reformed have affirmed that the church is already one in Christ, they have continually acknowledged that realizations of unity in Christ have been partial and fragmentary in the history of the church.7 Unity is not only God’s gift to the church but also God’s calling for the church.” Habitual boundary lines drawn on the basis of culture, status, race, and nationality need to be crossed over, and divisions and exclusions

The Doctrine of the Church   383 based upon these differences should be de-legitimated. Unity, when it is achieved, is not uniformity but rather a pluriform richness lived out in reconciled diversity.8 Similarly, the Reformed affirm holiness as a mark of the church but insist that it is often contradicted by the church’s life and practice. It is apparent that the church is not holy in the sense of being righteous or sinless. If the church may be said to be “holy,” then it is surely holy on some other basis. “Holiness” may be understood in terms of the presence and activity of the Holy Spirit in the church’s life and ministry. The Spirit can work in the church and apart from the church (and in spite of the church). When the Spirit works within the church, its life is renewed and it is led forth to serve the world. For the Reformed, the holiness of the church does not consist in a cloistered purity separate from the wider world. Rather the church is “sanctified for service” precisely in and for the world. The catholicity of the church simply means its “universality.” Again, the Reformed embrace universality while acknowledging that the church’s history of divisions, exclusions, and parochialisms falls short of this mark. The characteristic of the church as catholic holds up a vision of the church as “whole”—as in the Greek term holos (whole or entire). Reformed theologian Jürgen Moltmann has associated this wholeness with the church’s identity and integrity.9 Catholicity can also be connected with ecumenicity and the church around the world and down the years. Catholicity, then, entails universality, integrity, ecumenicity, and inclusiveness. As with the other essential marks of the church, this one is not fully manifest, but remains aspirational. The Reformed doctrine of the church also embraces the mark of “apostolicity,” but it interprets this mark in a distinctive way. In some churches the mark of apostolicity is located in the “apostolic succession.” This sign is given in the practice of ordination where, with prayer and invocation of the Spirit, there is a laying-on of hands. Churches differ about the importance of an unbroken line of succession from the apostles forward. For the Reformed, apostolicity has instead been understood more in terms of the church’s faithfulness to the apostolic witness. The practice of prayer with the laying-on of hands by others who have been similarly ordained is central to the church’s liturgy of ordination, and the Reformed have maintained this practice continuously throughout their history. However, they insist that apostolicity is not something guaranteed or magically conferred by this practice of ordination and the laying-on of hands. As is the case in the relationship between sacramental signs and the things they signify, the Christological formula of “distinction without division” applies.10 These practices are important signs, but the thing signified is a matter of faith and life. The Reformed would also add that it is the whole church (and not just those in ordained ministries) that stands in the apostolic succession and has the responsibility of carrying forward the apostolic witness. As with the other marks of the church, the Reformed insist that apostolicity is not fully and consistently fulfilled. The “marks of the church,” in both traditional and contemporary modes of expression underscore, for the Reformed, a significant tension between what the church is called to be and what it is. Even this brief review makes clear that this is a case of “treasure in earthen vessels” (II Cor. 4:7). There is an “in spite of quality” to these affirmations: the

384   Anna Case-Winters church is one in spite of its divisions, holy in spite of its imperfections, universal in spite of its parochialisms and exclusions, and apostolic in spite of its unfaithfulness to the apostolic witness. Future directions in the theological discussion of the marks of the church are ­suggested by Roman Catholic theologian Leonardo Boff in his book Ecclesiogenesis. He explains the marks of the church in a new way that seems quite consonant with the Reformed perspective. Boff argues that unity might be thought of in terms of solidarity, holiness in terms of service, catholicity in terms of inclusivity, and apostolicity in terms of prophetic witness.11

Evangelical The sixteenth-century revolt that became the Protestant Reformation had a profound impact on the understanding of the church. The Reformers did not intend to found a new church or to divide the church. Martin Luther thought that the division in the church was scandalous. Even after his excommunication in 1521, he constantly strove for dialogue with Catholic authorities. He was completely convinced that Rome could come to see the necessity of the reforms he proposed, and he hoped that the Pope would convene a General Council and that reconciliation would occur. Calvin shared Luther’s profound regret over the division of the church. He expressed his deep concern in a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury—Thomas Cranmer. He declared that the division of the church “is to be ranked among the chief evils of our time. . . . Thus it is that the members of the Church being severed, the body lies bleeding.”12 Calvin’s depiction of Christ’s “dismembered” body is a troubling and compelling image. His discussions of the Lord’s Supper insist that communion with Christ is inseparable from communion with one another.

Sola Scriptura The magisterial Reformers never intended to produce this tragic division of the church; what they desired was that the church reform its life and practice for the sake of the gospel. They were, first and foremost champions of the gospel (Greek—εὐαγγέλιον, “the good news”). All churches of the Reformation are, in this sense, “evangelical.” Over against church authorities and the traditions they deemed contrary to the gospel or even corrupt, the Reformers insisted on the primacy of Scripture; sola scriptura (Scripture alone) was the rallying cry. It was not so much that Scripture was the only source consulted as that it was to be the only authority for evaluating all the creeds, teaching, and traditions of the church. There is a nuancing that occurs with the Reformed appropriation of sola scriptura.13 For Luther “the content of Scripture is Christ . . . all Scripture turns about him as its true center.”14 He argued that the Old Testament functioned as the “swaddling clothes and

The Doctrine of the Church   385 the manger in which Christ lies.” This Christological focus for Luther meant that there is a canon within a canon. As he declared, “John’s Gospel and St. Paul’s epistles, especially that to the Romans, and St. Peter’s first epistle are the true kernel and marrow of all the books.”15 He dismisses the book of James as “strawy”—fit to start a fire.16 He contended that it would be better if Esther was not in the canon and insisted that Revelation is not an “apostolic” book. At this point, Calvin’s position on Scripture is different. For Calvin, it may be said that sola scriptura entails tota scriptura. He sees “all” of Scripture and sometimes the very words themselves as divinely inspired. Every part of Scripture carries the full weight of authority and validity for all times and places. Calvin wrote commentaries on every book of the Bible except Revelation and Song of Solomon. It was not that they were “strawy,” but, as he reported, he simply did not know what to do with them. Calvin concurs with Luther that Christ is the center point of Scripture, but he has in view the larger story of God’s one covenant of grace through all times and places; it is a covenant mediated by Christ. From Calvin’s tota scriptura much else follows. The Old Testament (as law) is not contrasted with New Testament (as gospel). Calvin saw baptism and the Lord’s Supper in continuity with circumcision and Passover. Further, he identified the people of Israel as, in some sense, “the church.” The strong emphasis on Scripture that the Reformed brought forward from their Reformation heritage has provided significant support for general education. People must be able to read so that they can read and interpret Scripture. Reformed denominations in general and Presbyterian ones in particular are known for establishing educational institutions wherever they go. This commitment to education has also produced an openness to the intellectual currents of the wider culture. This approach is consistent with what Zwingli affirmed in the sixteenth century. “The truth, wherever it is found and by whomever it is brought to light, is from the Holy Spirit.”17 Calvin concurred: “All truth comes from God whose Spirit is the one fountain of truth.”18

Sola Gratia, Sola Fide That we are “justified by grace through faith” was a fundamental biblical insight that was central to the Reformation. All this is God’s doing, not our own; even our response to God is a function of God’s grace working faith in us led to sola gratia, sola fide (grace alone, faith alone) as a rallying cry of the Reformation churches. The Reformed adopted it wholeheartedly along with strong conviction of the seriousness of the human predicament, which came to be articulated as “total depravity.” This distinctive way of putting it expresses the conviction that no aspect of human life is unaffected by the radical disorientation resulting from turning away from God. Works righteousness is an impossibility. While rejecting the possibility for “works righteousness,” the Reformed insist that good works are important. They are “the fruit and not the root” of our salvation. The redeemed should express their gratitude by glorifying God and serving others. The Second Helvetic

386   Anna Case-Winters Confession clarifies the role of good works. They are “for the glory of God, to adorn our calling, to show gratitude to God, and for the profit of the neighbor.”19 This understanding of good works is related to the Reformed orientation to the law, which is somewhat different from the Lutheran perspective. The difference has its roots in Calvin’s tota scriptura approach, which has ramifications for Calvin’s theology and for that of the Reformed churches that inherit his legacy. Calvin embraces the Old Testament and “the law.” Luther’s work focused on the New Testament, and in a manner consistent with Pauline writings, especially Galatians, he draws a contrast between law and gospel, which Calvin does not accept. Our shared Reformation heritage delineates three uses of the law: (a) a “civil use,” where the law serves to restrain wrongdoing; (b) a “pedagogical” use as a tutor to lead us to Christ by convicting us of sin and our inability to meet the demands of the law; and (c) a “normative” use, as a rule of life for believers.20 Whereas Luther emphasized the second use of the law, Calvin accentuated the third use. Luther wanted to establish that justification by grace through faith has set us free from the demands and accusations of the law. The freedom of a Christian means living in the Spirit; the law has served its function and is no longer needed. Calvin, on the other hand, insisted that our justification by grace through faith sets us free to follow the law as we live our lives of gratitude to God. This leads very naturally to Calvin’s greater emphasis on sanctification as a moving toward perfection. For him, justification and sanctification are the twofold experience of God’s grace that provides both forgiveness of sins and renewal of life. Sanctification is not our own doing; rather, it is the working of God’s grace in us through our union with Christ. “Christ is not outside us but dwells within us . . . . With a wonderful communion, day by day, he grows more and more into one body with us, until he becomes completely one with us.”21

Two “Notes” of the Church To the four classical “marks” of the church (unity, holiness, catholicity and apostolicity), both Luther and Calvin offered two additional “notes.” As Calvin expressed them, “Wherever we see the Word of God rightly preached and heard and the sacraments administered according to Christ’s institution, there, it is not to be doubted, a church of God exists.”22 In this way, even though the “marks” of the church are not fully expressed, a “church” can be recognized by these practices, which, among other things, nurture a greater fullness of the marks that are of the essence of the church. In word and sacrament, God offers “means of grace” to the church and its members. God’s grace is reliably present in word and sacraments, but these must be received in faith. As the Second Helvetic Confession declares, “The preaching of the Word of God is the Word of God,”23 but the word must be rightly “heard,” as well as rightly preached.24 Similarly, in the sacraments, God’s grace is genuinely offered, but it must be received in faith. The sign and the thing signified are not to be identified in a simplistic sense. Signs do not automatically convey the thing signified.25 Furthermore, the Reformed have

The Doctrine of the Church   387 always insisted on the freedom of the Spirit in all things. Thus the Spirit is free to work through these means and beyond them. To the traditional notes of the church (word and sacrament), the Reformed often add discipline as a kind of third note. This, too, is a gift of God’s grace for the right ordering of life together in the church. The Scots Confession adds this explicitly as a third note. “Ecclesiastical discipline [is] uprightly ministered, as God’s Word prescribes, whereby vice is repressed and virtue nourished.”26 These three notes roughly correspond to word, sacrament, and order and are closely aligned with the threefold work (triplex munus) of Christ as prophet, priest, and king. For the Reformed, the ministry of the church should be patterned after Christ’s work. Prophetic ministry consists in teaching and preaching in the church, as well as prophetic witness in the public arena. The priestly role includes the sacramental ministries but also includes the work of intercession, mediation, and reconciliation in the wider world. The kingly work of Christ is manifest in administration and discipline in the church and the promotion of “wise rule” in the wider society.27

Reformed In addition to Reformed understandings of the church that are its inheritance from the ancient church and the Reformation era, are emphases that produce a particularly Reformed orientation to the church. These themes are not exclusive to the Reformed, but they receive special emphasis and help shape the Reformed doctrine of the church.

The Universal Sovereignty of God The Reformed tradition is theocentric in its orientation, which impacts the church’s self-understanding and sense of mission in multiple ways. The theme of the sovereignty of God—so central to Calvin’s legacy—claims God’s dominion over the whole of life, not just the narrowly religious part. This includes complex and contentious social, political, and economic matters. The church shaped by this legacy has tended to be concerned about ethics and engaging the world. In terms of H. Richard Niebuhr’s typology, it has a “Christ transforming culture” orientation.28 This conviction of the universal sovereignty of God has had significant political implications. Calvin holds in healthy tension two orientations that can guide the church’s political witness even today. These are seen in Calvin’s commentary on the passage, “Fear God. Honor the Emperor” (I Pet. 2:17). On the one hand, he issues a call to responsible ­citizenship, respect for order, and obedience to legitimate authority. He believes that “civil authority is a calling, not only holy and lawful before God, but also the most sacred of and by far the most honorable of all callings” (Institutes, 4.20.4). Those holding such

388   Anna Case-Winters positions can do much good. On the other hand, Calvin denounced tyranny. The ruler who does not serve the common good and does not recognize that all ruling powers are derivative (given by God for the service of the people) is a “usurper,” not a legitimate authority, and should be challenged. In fact, the lesser magistrates are obligated to oppose rulers who oppress the lowly common folk. If they do not, they are guilty of, in Calvin’s view, “nefarious perfidy” because they betray the freedom of the people, which they have been appointed to protect (4.20.30). Justice must be upheld—even against those in power—because we “fear God.” These themes have given Reformed tradition a decisive orientation toward political activism and considerable backbone to resist tyranny—political or ecclesiastical. Karl Barth and the Confessing Church, in the 1934 Theological Declaration of Barmen, were courageously living into this legacy when in Nazi Germany they recalled this same verse of scripture (“Fear God. Honor the Emperor”) and insisted that the church must never become “an organ of the state”29 and that for the church there is but one Lord30 which it has to “trust and obey in life and in death.”31 The conviction that “only God is God” has often led Reformed denominations to resist both idolatry and tyranny. This orientation continues in contemporary confessions such as A Brief Statement of Faith, which affirms that “in a broken and fearful world, the Spirit gives us courage . . . to unmask idolatries in church and culture.”32 A “liberative iconoclasm”33 characterizes the Reformed, in which idols and tyrants are unmasked and people are set free from obligations of allegiance and obedience to them. God alone is to be worshipped and served.

Election for Service and Salvation The doctrine of election is emphasized in Reformed denominations and shapes the church’s self-understanding. The Reformed tradition asserts that God, through the ages, has always called people to be the church. These ecclesial communities (ecclesia in Greek) are those ek—kaleo (called out)” In the 1560 Scots Confession, the claim is made that “from the beginning of time there has been, now is and to the end of the world shall be, one Kirk.” It describes the church as “the chosen from all ages, of all realms nations and tongues.”34 In this sense, the church as “the people of God” does not begin with the followers of Jesus, or even with the people of Israel but transcends particular ages, realms, nations, and tongues. Through the ages, God’s choosing (election) people to be the church is not a badge of honor received for special merit; it is based completely on divine grace. Furthermore, it is not election for special favor but for service. Drawing from the Old Testament, Reformed covenant theology understands this “chosenness” of a particular people as having purposes that extend beyond the particular to the universal. The people of Israel are blessed to be a blessing (Gen. 12:1–3) and called to be a “light to the nations” (Isa. 49:6). Thus the particularity of grace is in service to the universality of grace. The Book of Order of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PC[USA]) speaks of “the election of the people of God for service as well as for salvation.”35

The Doctrine of the Church   389 This perspective has led churches of the Reformed family to typically be world engaged, activist, and focused on ethical and practical matters. PC(USA) confessions express not only what we believe but also “what we mean to do.”36 In the global Reformed family, this has most recently been powerfully expressed in the 2004 Accra Confession titled “Covenanting for Justice in the Economy and the Earth.” Here the commitment to service is understood to call to care for both neighbors and nature. The work for economic and ecological justice is to manifest “a faithful stewardship that shuns ostentation and seeks proper use of the gifts of God’s creation.”37 A Brief Statement of Faith confesses that when we “exploit neighbor and nature and threaten death to the planet entrusted to our care . . . we deserve God’s condemnation.”38 In both these areas of concern Calvin led the way. Regarding economics, he insisted, “Whatever benefits we obtain from the Lord are entrusted to us on this condition: That they be applied to the common good” (Institutes, 3.7.5). Calvin’s provisions for the poor of Geneva—jobs, free hospitals, and financial assistance—are an example of the work to which he understood the church to be called. Calvin left a remarkable legacy for the work of eco-justice. He was a “nature-intoxicated” theologian who spoke of nature as the theater of God’s glory (Calvini Opera 8:294).39 Everywhere we turn our eyes God is revealed in God’s handiwork. Calvin even speaks of God as appearing to us “robed in the fabric of creation”—a beautiful image (Commentary on the Psalms, Ps. 104.1). God is revealed in creation, and God’s providential activity is not only extended to human beings but also to the rest of nature. Calvin loved Matthew 10:29, which asserts God’s care for the sparrow; he repeatedly referred to it as he articulated the personal and particular care of God’s providence. Calvin argued that God’s work of redemption is for the whole creation that all things will be restored—a new creation.40 This legacy of Calvin’s theology concerning election to service, as well as salvation, has shaped a church that is engaged in the world and ethically and practically oriented. This is well illustrated in the involvement of the church with the current economic and ecological crises. The Accra Confession, which was received by the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A) and commended for study declares, Reading the signs of the times . . . we are challenged by the cries of the people who suffer and by the woundedness of creation itself . . . . The root causes of massive threats to life are above all the product of an unjust economic system defended and protected by political and military might. Economic systems are a matter of life or death.41

The prophetic declarations of the Accra Confession are very much in the spirit of Calvin’s legacy to the church.

Ecclesia Reformata, Semper Reformanda One of the best-known affirmations of Reformed churches is “ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda, secundum verbum dei—“The church reformed and always being reformed according to the Word of God.” The second phrase is sometimes mistranslated as

390   Anna Case-Winters “reformed and always reforming,” which may lead to a fundamental misunderstanding. It may seem that the church is reforming itself. Rather, God is the agent reforming the church. The church is God’s church; it is a creature of God’s Word and Spirit. The church remains open to reform because of what it is—a community of fallible and sinful human beings. Theologian Edward Dowey avowed that “reform is the institutional counterpart to repentance,”42 and the church remains open to reform because God is a living God who spoke and still speaks. The church has never “arrived” at its final perfection: it is always “on the way” and “under the word” and led by the Spirit. The clarifying addition of the phrase secundum verbum dei delivers this Reformed motto from two common misrepresentations. On the one hand, this motto does not bless any and all changes. One of the serious charges church authorities hurled at the Reformers was that they were “innovating.” Calvin responded to this and other charges in his treatise The Necessity of Reforming the Church, countering that instead of “innovating,” they were restoring the church to its true nature, purified from the “innovations” that had riddled the church through centuries of inattention to Scripture and theological laxity. The rallying cry sola scriptura was a call to return to this more ancient source. On the other hand, this motto does not promote conservation for conservation’s sake. Whatever historic or current practices may be, all church practices must be tested by the standard of Scripture and changed as needed. Given this understanding of the church’s continual need of reform, it is fitting that the PC(USA) Book of Confessions is “a book without a back cover.”43 As recently as 2016, the Belhar Confession, written in 1982, was added. The book is a rich collection from the early church, the Reformation, and contemporary times. It draws from the wider global church. It contains only two confessions written by the PC(USA). The book is a chorus of voices “from around the world and down the years.” Having a book of confessions that is open-ended is in keeping with Presbyterian commitment to remain open to being continually reformed. As Don McKim pointed out, “the reform of our confessional standards, in recognition of their status as subordinate standards to Scripture, gives us foundations on which to build and also the freedom by which to build on them.”44 The confessions themselves have their own built-in disclaimers. The Westminster Confession reminds us that “councils may err, and many have erred.45 The Scots Confession, in its preface, even invites the readers to send corrections in writing with a promise to give an answer from Scripture or make the needed corrections.46

The Visible and Invisible Church In the earlier treatment of the church in relation to the traditional marks of unity, holiness, catholicity, and apostolicity, the mixed character of the church is apparent at every turn. Calvin warned that we cannot simply equate the “visible church” with the “true church.” This in no way diminishes the importance of the church, which Calvin terms the “mother of all believers.” His point is rather that it is God who draws the boundaries, and that church members should not presume to judge who is “in” and who is “out.”

The Doctrine of the Church   391 Following Augustine, Calvin put it this way, “There are many sheep without, and many wolves are within” (Institutes, 4.1.8). Both Augustine and Calvin elsewhere reference the Mathew text concerning how “wheat and weeds” are growing together (13:24–30). It is well to remember who is Lord of the “harvest.” The Second Helvetic Confession cautions, “We must not judge rashly or prematurely . . . nor undertake to exclude, reject or cut off those whom the Lord does not want to have excluded.”47 Instead, the church should “have a good hope for all.”48 This is a commendable caution since the quality of “wheat and weeds growing together” and “sheep without and wolves within” is something that runs not so much between individual church members as within them.49 Every believer has wheat and weeds growing together as we are never free from the contradiction of being at one and the same time justified and a sinner (simul justus et peccator).

Belonging to God The church, though it is imperfect, is not optional. It is essential to Christian living. It is the place where people may most reliably receive the gifts of God’s grace in word and sacrament and formation to be disciples (discipline). Belonging to God is a key theme in Reformed ecclesiology. The theocentric orientation has already been noted. This is the community of those who live coram deo. This Latin phrase refers to living in the presence of God and for the honor and glory of God.50 The Reformed soli deo Gloria (to God alone be the glory) describes this orientation of life. The church orients us in this way for Christian vocation, which for Calvin is primarily about serving God in the wider world of everyday working and loving and living, and less about churchly roles. Each believer’s direct access to God through Christ—unmediated by priestly orders. Any profession, if it advances the common good by service to God and neighbor can be Christian vocation. The church nurtures people to provide this service. The church is the community of those who belong to God. This theme shapes the Reformed way of understanding the nature of the church. A Brief Statement of Faith51 begins: “In life and in death we belong to God” and ends “With believers in every time and place we rejoice that nothing in life or in death can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” This contemporary confession echoes a theme that runs through Reformed confessions: the Theological Declaration of Barmen states: “Jesus Christ, as he is attested for us in Holy Scripture is the one Word of God which we have to hear and which we have to trust and obey in life and in death.”52 This conviction goes back further still to the Scots Confession: “We confess and acknowledge one God alone, to whom we must cleave, whom alone we must serve, whom alone we must worship, and in whom alone we must put our trust.”53 Perhaps the statement of this theme is best known in the Heidelberg Catechism: “question:  What is your only comfort, in life and in death? answer:  That I belong-body and soul, in life and in death—not to myself but to my faithful Savior, Jesus Christ.”54

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Belonging to One Another Belonging to God entails belonging to one another in the church. Again, although the church is not perfect, it is not optional for Christian faith and life. As Calvin put it, “There is no other way to enter into life unless this mother conceive us in her womb, give us birth, nourish us at her breast and lastly unless she keep us under her care and guidance” (Institutes, 4.1.4). Theologically, the church is not a “voluntary organization.” Christian faith is not something Christians think up on their own and afterward opt to associate with like-minded individuals in the church. Faith comes to us mediated in community—a community of word and sacrament with texts and practices that form faith in us and us in faith. It is a place where the presence of Christ is encountered, “For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them” (Matt. 18:20). It is a community of belonging. In being joined to Christ, we are joined to one another. This is our reality even when we are not “like-minded,” or are not at all like one another, or may not even like one another. The church, as Amy Plantinga Pauw argues, is a community characterized by “graced infirmity.” In spite of its infirmities, “It is a channel of God’s grace to us. In the church God’s grace works to eliminate human sin by creating ecclesial space where sin can be opposed, repented of, and forgiven.”55 In the church, members are joined together in the divine embrace, gathered around the Word, and led by the Spirit. They are incorporated in baptism and nurtured in communion. There they learn the meaning of belonging to God and belonging to one another. Reformed theologian Peter Hodgson, in Revisioning the Church, insists that being drawn together into this unity of belonging follows from “the fundamental logic of Christian faith, which is oriented to a single central figure and event (God’s redemptive action in Christ).”56 Insofar as people in Christian community orient themselves toward and draw nearer to this center, they are inevitably drawn closer to one another.

Ecclesial Imagination: Tracing a Reformed Vision for the Church Contemporary reformed theologians use a variety of approaches to envision the distinctiveness of the church. A sampling of these must suffice. Each of these voices illumines the distinctiveness of the new community that is the church. There is a countercultural tone to these visions. They assume a Christ-transforming culture orientation that has characterized the Reformed since Niebuhr. Peter Hodgson speaks of the church in this way, Ecclesia is a transfigured mode of human community. . . . It is a community in which privatistic, provincial, and hierarchical modes of existence are challenged and are being overcome, and in which is fragmentarily actualized a universal reconciling love that liberates from sin and death, alienation and oppression.57

The Doctrine of the Church   393 This “transfigured mode of human community” is a sign and foretaste of the reign of God that is being “fragmentarily but unambiguously” realized in the church. Reformed theologian Letty Russell reflects on the sense in which the church may be a “household of freedom” providing a “clearing for freedom within the domain of oppression.”58 Russell insists that the church can provide an alternative to the patterns of domination and subjugation that characterize the sexism, racism, and classism of the wider society. Similarly, Walter Brueggemann contends that the church should be a community of “alterative consciousness.” “The task of prophetic ministry,” he says, “is to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the dominant culture around us.”59 Presbyterians recognize that commitment to community, to living life together, is in itself, countercultural in a context where individualism trumps community and concern for autonomy trumps concern for common good. As Larry Rasmussen has pointed out, the contemporary context is almost anti-community.60 The forces that pull us apart seem to be stronger than the forces that hold us together. In such a setting, the church, as a community of care and belonging, has a distinctive gift to offer. The church may be both a model and a force for community in a society characterized by fragmentation and alienation. The church may exemplify commitment to the common good and may provide a context for moral discourse and discernment. The vision of “the beloved community” articulated by Martin Luther King Jr. expresses what Presbyterians believe the church is called to be and what—at its best—it may offer to the wider society. He said of the nonviolent resistance in the civil rights movement that “the end is reconciliation, the end is redemption, the end is the creation of the Beloved Community.”61 In the contemporary context of fragmentation and alienation, the church can be a force for community. In a place where difference leads to conflict, the church can be a sanctuary; a sacred space where issues can be deliberated in community. In a context of violence and oppression, the church can be a community of peacemakers and justice seekers, a place of both forgiveness and accountability.62 In addition to today’s anticommunity context, another reality that the church faces is its “disestablishment.” The church is no longer at the center of power and influence. Presbyterians are realizing that this is not necessarily a bad thing. In fact, being at the center of power has not always been a good place for the church—as it carries the prospect of co-optation by other agendas and the risk of losing its prophetic edge. The disestablished church may be more like the church in its earliest form. The ministry of Jesus and the disciples was, in a sense, ministry at the margins.63 Much of their ministry was among those who were marginalized in one way or another: sinners and tax collectors, the sick and the unclean, Gentiles and foreigners, women and children. The disestablishment of the church could resituate it in ministry from and for the margins. As in its origins, so also now, without status or power the church may nevertheless dare to cast its lot with those who resist the forces of destruction and dehumanization in the world and who continue to affirm life in the midst of its systematic denial. Just as the church at the time of the Reformation faced a divisive issue—the nature of justification, today’s church confronts the divisive issue of race. Most Presbyterian

394   Anna Case-Winters churches that gather on a Sunday morning are, still, remarkably homogenous and racially segregated. Dirke Smit, a prominent Reformed theologian from South Africa and coauthor of the Belhar Confession, insists that this practice of racial segregation in our churches when they worship “is not harmless.” The witness of South African apartheid and the United States is that racial separation and segregation in churches fails to challenge the racialization of the larger society but in fact replicates it. Instead of a prophetic protest and an alternative community, the church blesses those patterns by practicing them. The Belhar Confession reminds the church that “God has entrusted the church with the message of reconciliation. . . . The credibility of this message is . . . seriously affected and its beneficial work obstructed when . . . the separation of people on a racial basis promotes and perpetuates alienation, hatred and enmity.”64Presbyterians hope that the ongoing work of reformation will include reforming these church practices. Presbyterians insist that the church is a community of memory. As Michael Welker has pointed out, memory has culture-shaping power. Not only does it offer a shared past, but it also shapes present experience and future expectations. This has both a stabilizing and dynamizing effect. The canon of scripture, for example, is a vehicle of memory that is in some sense fixed but is also alive to ongoing interpretation in the lived experience of the community as it gathers around the word.65 The church is a community shaped by memory of the Gospel message and life, ministry, death and resurrection of Jesus the Christ, to whom it bears witness. This memory places a calling on the church’s life together and its mission in the world. The church remembers, represents, and re-enacts. In doing so, it becomes a place where the “dangerous memory of Jesus Christ” is kept alive.66

Notes 1. The chapter references the section “Biblical and Confessional Basis of Our Ecumenical Stance,” in The Ecumenical Stance of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church U.S.A., 2008). 2. Frequently referenced texts include John 17; 2 Cor. 5:19; Eph. 4:3–4; Rom. 12; and 1 Cor. 12. 3. The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church, Part I Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2016), 5.126. 4. Book of Confessions, 9:34. 5. The Ecumenical Stance of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), 4. 6. Gabriel Fackre and Michael Root, Affirmations and Admonitions (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1998). 7. Here and dispersed throughout the chapter are insights published in Anna Case-Winters, “On Being the Church,” in Matthew (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2016), 229–235. 8. Shirley Guthrie, Christian Doctrine, rev. ed. (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994), 359. 9. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977). 10. Brian Gerrish, The Old Protestantism and the New: Essays on the Reformation Heritage (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1982), 4.

The Doctrine of the Church   395 11. Leonardo Boff, Ecclesiogenesis (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1986), 12. “Letter to Cranmer” (1552), in Selected Works of John Calvin: Tracts and Letters, ed. Henry Beveridge (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1983), pt. 4. 13. See Anna Case-Winters, “Learning from Luther: Reformed Appropriations and Differ­ entiations,” in Luther Refracted: The Reformers Ecumenical Legacy, ed. Piotr J. Malysz and Derek R. Nelson (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 2015), 275–298. 14. Quoted in Gerrish, Old Protestantism and the New, 55. 15. Quoted in Gerrish, 55. 16. Gerrish, 55. 17. Ulrich Zwingli, “Reproduction from Memory of a Sermon on the Providence of God, Dedicated to His Highness Philip of Hesse, 1530,” in On Providence and Other Essays, edited for Samuel Macauley Johnson by William John Hinke (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 1999), 128. 18. John Calvin, Commentary on Titus, 1:12, in Calvini Opera, 52:415. 19. Book of Confessions, 5.117. 20. Ken Sawyer, “The Third Use of the Law” (unpublished lecture, McCormick Theological Seminary, Chicago, October 2012), 2. 21. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 4.1.9. 2 2. Calvin, Institutes, 4.1.9. 23. Book of Confessions, 5.004. 2 4. Book of Confessions, 5.183. 25. Book of Confessions, 5.183. 2 6. Book of Confession, 3.18. 27. Robert H. Craig and Robert C. Worley, Dry Bones Live (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 1992), 26–28. 28. H. Richard Niebuhr, Christ and Culture (New York: Harper and Row, 1951). 29. Book of Confessions, 8.24. 30. Book of Confessions, 8.15. 31. Book of Confessions, 8.11. 32. Book of Confessions, 10.4. 33. Ken Sawyer, “Resistance as a Reformed Value” (unpublished lecture, McCormick Theological Seminary, Chicago, November 2017). 34. Book of Confessions, 3.16. 35. The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church, Part II Book of Order (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2016), F-2.05. 36. Book of Order, F- 2.01. 37. Book of Order, F-2.05. 38. Book of Confessions, 10.3. 39. Peter Wyatt, Jesus Christ and Creation in the Theology of John Calvin (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 1991), 91. 40. John Calvin, Commentary on the Epistle to the Romans (8:20), trans. and ed. John Owens, in“Commentary on Romans,” Christian Classics Ethereal Library, https://www.ccel.org/ ccel/calvin/calcom38.html, 01.03.18. 41. World Communion of Reformed Churches, Accra Confession: Covenanting for Justice in the Economy and the Church, adopted at the 24th General Council of the World Alliance of Reformed Churches, Accra, Ghana, 2004, 1.

396   Anna Case-Winters 42. Edward Dowey, “Always to Be Reformed,” in Always Being Reformed: The Future of Church Education, ed. John Purdy (Philadelphia: Geneva, 1985), 10. 43. Ken Sawyer, “Confessions as Documents of the Church” (unpublished lecture, McCormick Theological Seminary, Chicago, September 2017). 44. Don McKim, The Church: Presbyterian Perspectives (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2017), 23. 45. Book of Confessions, 6.175. 46. Book of Confessions, Study Edition, 31. 47. Book of Confessions, 5.140. 48. Book of Confessions, 5.055. 49. Case-Winters, Matthew, 182–183, 233. 50. George Stroup, Before God (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2004). 51. Book of Confessions, 10.1 52. Book of Confessions, 8:11. 53. Book of Confessions, 3.01. 54. Book of Confessions, 4.001. 55. Amy Plantinga Pauw, “The Graced Infirmity of the Church,” in Feminist and Womanist Essays in Reformed Dogmatics, ed. Amy Plantinga Pauw and Serene Jones (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox, 2006), 189–203, quotation on 193. 56. Peter  C.  Hodgson, Revisioning the Church: Ecclesial Freedom in the New Paradigm (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1988), 39. 57. Hodgson, Revisioning the Church, 103–104. 58. Letty Russell, Authority in Feminist Theology: Household of Freedom (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1987), 26. 59. Walter Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination (Minneapolis, MN: Fortress Press, 1983), 13. 60. Larry Rasmussen, Moral Fragments and Moral Community (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg, 1993). 61. Martin Luther King Jr., Stride toward Freedom (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1958), 102. 62. Hodgson, Revisioning the Church, 90. 63. Warren Carter, Matthew and the Margins: A Socio-Political and Religious Reading (Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic Press, 2000). 64. Book of Confessions, 10.5. 65. Michael Welker, “Resurrection and Eternal Life,” in The End of the Word and the Ends of God, ed. John Polkinghorne and Michael Welker (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press, 2000), 285. 66. Johann Baptist Metz, “The Dangerous Memory of the Freedom of Jesus Christ: The Presence of Church in Society,” in Love’s Strategy: The Political Theology of Johann Baptist Metz, ed. John K. Downey (Harrisburg, PA: Trinity Press, 1999), 95.

Bibliography Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960. Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Part 1. Book of Confessions. Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), 2017.

chapter 24

Pr edesti nation a n d El ection W. Andrew Hoffecker

The Biblical and Pre-Reformation Roots of Predestination and Election The doctrines of predestination and election are anchored in the Old Testament, were expansively developed in the New Testament, and have figured prominently in theological discussions throughout the history of Christianity, especially among Presbyterians. They have been among the most significant and controversial tenets held by Reformed churches. Outside Presbyterianism, both advocates and detractors have long debated their meaning and their relation to other primary teachings of the Bible. Defenders of Reformed theology contend that predestination and election are not arbitrary, isolated, and by implication unfair and deplorable doctrines but instead manifest God’s mercy, justice, and love. Substantive debate has focused on the absoluteness of predestination, whether predestination is single or double, how predestination is related to fairness and human responsibility, and the sinful condition of human nature.1 Presbyterians have traditionally asserted that the grand narrative of the Bible depicts predestination and election as being intimately related to doctrines of God as the Creator, providential ruler, and sovereign savior, who reveals his eternal purpose in history to be faithful to his chosen people. The terms predestination and election are often used synonymously. A distinction can be made, however, that predestination is more general and refers to God’s sovereign purpose that orders all things, whereas election articulates God’s choice to save his people through his gracious decree. The biblical themes of creation, Fall, redemption, and consummation provide a worldview framework—theological, anthropological, epistemological, cosmological and societal contexts—which show that God’s salvation is elective in nature. The biblical portrayal of God as personal and transcendent, who determines all things by his sovereignty, wisdom, and beneficence,

398   W. Andrew Hoffecker contrasts sharply with ancient impersonal deterministic worldviews such as the Homeric fates (moira), Stoicism’s logos, and Plato’s Spindle of Necessity in the Myth of Er. Presbyterians have long held that Old Testament passages detail God’s saving intentions expressed throughout Israelite history. In response to the human fall into sin (Gen. 3), God’s covenants with Abraham (Gen. 12), Moses (Exod. 19 and 20), and David (2 Sam. 7) initiate, continue, and fulfill God’s elective purposes. Israel and its eventual Messiah are the agents by which God’s purposes unfold. God chose Israel “out of all the peoples of the earth to be his treasured possession” solely because of his love and faithfulness (Deut. 7:6). Despite Israel’s flaws and flagrant disobedience, God called them to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exod. 19:6) so that “all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Gen. 12:2–3). In addition to God’s corporate choice of Israel, God chose individuals, such as Isaac over Ishmael (Gen. 17:15–21), David to replace Saul as king (1 Sam. 16), and Jeremiah to be a prophet before he was born (Jer. 1:5). Several factors prevented the Israelites from misconstruing their election. Because God’s choosing arises exclusively from his mercy, it signifies neither the privilege of those selected nor the exclusion of wider humanity. Rather, God chose a particular people for the good of the greater whole. In addition, since God’s will is mysterious in nature, it is not subject to human scrutiny, let alone magical manipulation. Although “the secret things” belong to God alone, that which God revealed belong to the Israelites so that they would “do all the words of this law” (Deut. 29:29). Finally, God’s election does not obviate human moral responsibility. The holiness code (Lev. 19) and the extensive Deuteronomic law teach that human responsibility extends to the political, economic, and societal dimensions of life in addition to cultic festivals, tithes, and temple worship. According to Presbyterian theologians, the New Testament develops salvific themes in greater detail. In proclaiming the kingdom of God, Jesus argues God’s providential control from the lesser—God’s care of lilies and sparrows—to the greater—his minute protection and clothing of his people (Matt. 6:26, 30). Jesus foretells as “necessary” his passion, death, and resurrection (Mark 8:31). He replicates Joseph’s declaration of God’s purpose in using evil acts to fulfill a redemptive purpose while simultaneously condemning his brothers’ duplicity (Gen. 50:20) by predicting and condemning Judas’s betrayal: “The Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that man by whom the Son of Man is betrayed” (Luke 22:22). As for the eschaton, God will shorten the time of tribulation on the elect’s behalf; he will protect them from “falling away” and at the coming of the Son of Man will “gather his elect from the four winds” (Matt. 24:22, 24, 31). Jesus tells his disciples, “You did not choose me, but I chose you” (John 15:16). Subsequently, no one can “snatch them out of the Father’s hand” (John 10:27). Paul’s epistle to the Romans plays a critical role in the history of Presbyterian thought. In Romans, Paul situates predestination and election within the larger contexts of providence, human sinfulness, and God’s redemptive scheme in history. Because all people willfully suppress the truth revealed in creation (Rom. 1:18–21; 3:23), only God’s gracious election can save them through Jesus Christ. Romans 8:29–30 provides an order of salvation: “Those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image

Predestination and Election   399 of his Son . . . . And those whom he predestined, he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.” Although God manifested his elective grace historically through Israel, not even all Israelites were saved, as demonstrated by God’s choosing Jacob over Esau before they were born (Rom. 9:10–13). In Ephesians, Paul states that God chose believers in Christ “before the foundation of the world” and “in love, he predestined” them “for adoption” (Eph. 1:4–5). Because all people are “dead in trespasses and sins” (2:1), only God’s grace can save them (2:8), in order that they can perform good works “which God prepared beforehand” (2:10). Peter’s sermon on Pentecost, Presbyterian theologians emphasize, provides further context for affirming both God’s predestination and human moral responsibility. Peter announced that the salvation predicted by Old Testament prophets (Joel 2:28–32) was fulfilled in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Jesus’s death was predestined “according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God,” yet he adds immediately, “you [the Sanhedrin] crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men” (Acts 2:23). The fact that God determined beforehand Christ’s suffering and death did not excuse those who planned and participated in the events themselves.2 According to Presbyterian theologians, the doctrines of predestination and election remained relatively undeveloped in the early church, but African bishop Augustine’s response in the fifth century to Pelagius’s view that salvation is based on good works resulted in a robust theology of election. Pelagius took umbrage at Augustine’s prayer in his autobiographical Confessions (c. 400): “Give what you command and command what you will.” Pelagius contended that Augustine’s views of original sin contributed to the moral laxity of Rome and denigrated the concept of God’s election as that of a controlling tyrant, which made humans utterly powerless to choose to be saved. Pelagius did not deny the necessity of grace, but since grace merely assists the will, which remains free, the relation between God’s sovereignty and the human will in salvation, he argued, was collaborative.3 Throughout his decade-long dispute with Pelagius, Presbyterians assert, Augustine’s development of the concepts of predestination and election profoundly influenced medieval and Reformation thinkers. Augustine affirmed that God’s foreknowledge of the elect signified not an act of cognition, but rather a profound personal union between God and individuals analogous to a husband’s intimate relationship with his wife. God’s electing those he foreknew was not a matter of foreseeing ahead of time who would choose to be saved in actual time. Instead, God’s foreknowledge of the elect consisted of graciously uniting himself with those whom he predestined for salvation. Although several church councils condemned Pelagianism in the fifth century, debate over the meaning of original sin and predestination continued unabated. The Synod of Orange (529) forged a synergistic compromise between Augustine’s and Pelagius’s views by affirming a cooperation between the necessity of and the initiating nature of divine grace and human freedom to respond.4 In the thirteenth century, Thomas Aquinas, the most revered medieval scholastic theologian, reiterated Paul’s and Augustine’s view that God neither predestines the

400   W. Andrew Hoffecker elect by foreseeing their good works nor reprobates the nonelect by foreseeing their evil deeds. Believers’ foreordained union with Christ is the basis of their salvation. He cited Paul that God chose Jacob and rejected Esau before they were born. The basis of predestination lay in God’s moral excellence alone that mercifully saves the elect and justly punishes the reprobate. In modern debates over predestination, Presbyterians referred to historical precedents extending back to Augustine and Aquinas.5

The Reformation and Post-Reformation Eras John Calvin in Institutes of the Christian Religion (1559) based predestination and election on the sovereignty of God and his providence. He identified two dangers regarding election to be avoided: prideful curiosity by those who speculated beyond what the Bible teaches and timid silence by those who deprived believers of what the Holy Spirit intended for pastoral comfort. Instead, he urged Christians to study the word of God with awe and wonder. Calvin defined predestination as “God’s eternal decree, by which he compacted with himself what he willed to become of each man. For all are not created in equal condition; rather, eternal life is foreordained for some, eternal damnation for others.” Calvin reprised Augustine’s perspective on foreknowledge by contending that Jacob’s election and Esau’s rejection before they were born demonstrates that election was based not on foreknowledge or merit but simply on God’s sovereign will. Logical consistency demands that if God elects some, he also reprobates others. Thus Calvin rejected preterition—God’s simply passing over those not elected.6 Calvin refuted objections frequently posed against the doctrine. To the charge that election makes God a capricious tyrant, Calvin responded that God’s will is the ultimate source of righteousness. Because God’s will is both sovereign and just, people cannot comprehend what is inscrutable by nature but must obediently marvel at God’s hidden decrees, including reprobation. The latter is a “dreadful” decree, not because it is unjust, but because it terrifies the unrighteous.7 Others objected that election negates human responsibility and guilt. On this point, the human mind confronts a profound mystery because the Bible clearly teaches that God ordained all things, including Adam’s fall into sin, yet in an “equity—unknown . . . to us but very sure,” biblical texts hold sinners accountable for disobeying God’s moral law.8 Third, opponents falsely contended that God shows partiality by choosing some and rejecting others. On this matter Scripture explicitly denies that God plays favorites because God does not ­distinguish between Jew and Greek. Despite the common guilt of all, God chooses to be merciful to those whom he wills, and he justly judges others.9 A fourth cavil to predestination was that God’s decree cripples the zeal to live righteously. Instead of leading to moral laxity, however, because people are elected to serve God, the elect are

Predestination and Election   401 highly motivated to glorify God through their increasingly holy behavior.10 A final objection asserted that predestination renders all moral exhortations meaningless. Calvin countered by citing Ephesians 2:10 in which Paul, after his extended comments on God’s ­election in Ephesians 1, admonished his readers to perform the good works that God ­“prepared beforehand.”11 Calvin also valued predestination for its pastoral benefits. Whereas fate, luck, and chance are spurious pagan notions that lead people into vain superstitions, predestination alone assured individuals of being intimately related to a personal God.12 Although objective certainty of one’s election resides only in God’s eternal decree, subjective certainty of God’s merciful choice gives believers confidence and comfort.13 Preaching should focus not on arousing introspective speculation for assurance but on trusting in Christ as the mirror in whom believers see themselves as chosen.14 Scottish reformer John Knox, the founder of Presbyterianism, witnessed Calvin’s controversies over predestination during his Genevan exile. Knox made election a significant element of the Scots Confession (1560) by contending that the doctrine was “necessary to the church of God.” Without it, faith cannot be “truly taught, neither fully established.” By accepting predestination, believers are “brought to unfeigned humility” and are “moved to praise Him for His free graces received.”15 Knox’s longest treatise was a polemic on predestination against the “cavillations” raised by Anabaptists.16

Arminianism, the Canons of Dort, and the Westminster Confession Several successors of the first-generation reformers defined predestination and election more fully and contributed to subsequent Presbyterian discussion of the doctrines. Theodore Beza, Calvin’s successor in Geneva, probed the logical order of God’s decrees.17 Two theological positions emerged to explain the logical order of God’s decrees, but not the temporal order because God is eternal. To magnify God’s power, supralapsarians—from Latin “above or prior to the Fall”—emphasized God’s sovereignty in his elective decree and promoting his glory as his highest end. The decrees of election and reprobation, therefore, preceded even God’s decree of creation and Adam’s Fall. Conversely, infralapsarians—from Latin “below or after the Fall”—argued that God’s decrees of election and reprobation logically took into consideration God’s decrees to create and ordain Adam’s Fall. Presbyterian theologians have debated the strengths and weaknesses of the two positions. The supra interpretation emphasizes biblical texts that stress God’s omnipotence, but in so doing, it makes election and reprobation deal only with hypothetical persons and, by insisting on God’s absolute sovereignty, may imply that God is the author of sin. The strength of the infra viewpoint is its support from texts that highlight humanity’s sinful condition while implying that God merely permitted the Fall. Most scholars agree that the Reformed confessions of the late sixteenth and

402   W. Andrew Hoffecker early seventeenth centuries reflect the infra position, although none of them explicitly affirm either perspective. In the seventeenth century, Jacob Arminius of Holland reconstrued the doctrine of election, which subsequently influenced Reformed and Presbyterian discussions. Arminius rejected both the infra and supra positions, claiming that they rendered God the author of sin, and he charged that the doctrine of double predestination went beyond scriptural boundaries. He proposed that God bestows prevenient grace on all people, not just the elect, which sufficiently frees their wills so that individuals can accept or reject the gospel. Arminius viewed predestination as conditional because people could freely respond to the universal call of salvation available in Christ.18 A national synod convened in the Netherlands city of Dordrecht in 1618–1619 to settle the tumultuous religious, political, economic, and diplomatic turmoil Arminius’s position produced. The synod issued the Canons of Dort, which rejected the Arminians’ views in ninety-three canons that were popularized in the five-point acronym TULIP: (a) Total depravity: the human will, mind, conscience, and affections are corrupted by sin so that only by God’s predestinating grace can man be saved; (b) Unconditional election: election rests totally in God’s eternal decree, not his foreseen response to the gospel; (c) Limited atonement: Christ’s redeeming work, although sufficient for all humanity, was meant to save the elect only and actually secured salvation for them alone; (d) Irresistible grace: in addition to an outward general call of the gospel made to everyone, which may be resisted, the Holy Spirit extends to the elect an inward call that always brings salvation; and (e) Perseverance of the saints: all who are chosen, called, and granted the gift of faith are kept faithful by God’s power and persevere to end. In addition to their development in Switzerland, Scotland, and the Netherlands, the doctrines of predestination and election were featured in other Reformation confessions, such as the French Gallic Confession (1559) and the Heidelberg Catechism (1563). The Puritan movement in the Church of England during the reign of Elizabeth I (1558–1603) produced another high-water mark for Presbyterian endorsement of the doctrines. The Westminster Assembly convened to purge Anglicanism of the impurities in ­doctrine, polity, and ritual that lingered from its Catholic past. Although the Anglican Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion (1563) were Protestant, Assembly delegates desired a  more detailed confession of Reformed faith. In 1647 the Assembly produced the Westminster Confession of Faith, which included an entire chapter, “Of God’s Eternal Decree,” that essentially reprised the theology of Dort. God “predestined whatsoever comes to pass,” but this did not make God the author of sin or destroy human free agency.19 By his decree, the Confession states, God chose the elect “according to his eternal and immutable purpose, and the secret counsel and good pleasure of his will . . . out of his mere free grace and love, without any foresight of faith, or good works.”20 “Others were foreordained to everlasting death.”21 Furthermore, Christ’s atonement saved “the elect only”; believers are subject to an “effectual calling”; and the elect could “neither totally, nor finally, fall away from the state of grace.”22 Finally, the doctrines of predestination and election were a “high mystery,” to be taught with special care so

Predestination and Election   403 that the elect may with humility and diligence be assured of their election and God may be glorified by their obedience.23

The Rise of Liberalism A more radical paradigmatic shift in Reformed theology than that posed by Arminianism emerged in Germany in the early nineteenth century with Friedrich Schleiermacher’s Romantic theology. As pastor of Berlin’s Trinity Church and a founding professor of the University of Berlin, Schleiermacher became known as the Father of Liberal Theology. His Speeches on Religion to Its Cultured Despisers (1799) rejected Protestant scholasticism’s view that religion is a matter of embracing propositional truths, such as God’s decrees, and instead presented religion as addressing human feeling or intuition. He also renounced Immanuel Kant’s idealism, which stressed human autonomous choice, and Enlightenment rationalistic Deism, which rejected all doctrines not attainable by human reason alone.24 In The Christian Faith (1820), Schleiermacher rejected the notion that human nature changed from the state of original righteousness into the state of original sin by affirming a universal coexistence of God-consciousness and God-forgetfulness in all people.25 Although he did not reject the idea of predestination, Schleiermacher pointedly reinterpreted God’s elective decree. Assuming that all people are eventually drawn into fellowship with Christ, he argued that there is only one foreordination—that of election. The ground of the single decree rests entirely in God’s divine governance of the world in which he foresees the faith of the elect and determines their salvation solely by his good pleasure. Traditional beliefs in a double decree, he insisted, did not take into consideration the universal nature of God’s new creation through the redeeming power of Christ’s God-consciousness. Schleiermacher’s liberal reconstruction of theology contributed to the decline of traditional Calvinism and became widely accepted in the nineteenth century, as biblical scholars used higher critical methods and new hermeneutic tools to question the meaning and authority of the biblical text.26

The English and American Awakenings The Calvinist-Arminian debate over election was reprised in the eighteenth-century evangelical awakenings in England and America. In England sharp differences arose between John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, and evangelist George Whitefield over predestination. Wesley insisted that election was conditional, that salvation was cooperative in nature, and that predestination thwarted revivalists’ appeals for conversion.27

404   W. Andrew Hoffecker Whitefield countered that God’s unconditional election was taught by both Scripture and article 17 of the Anglican Thirty-Nine Articles and provided believers great comfort of their eternal salvation. Far from eliminating the zeal to preach, predestination motivated pastors to proclaim the gospel more fervently as the means God ordained for people to be converted.28 The acrimony over predestination among English evangelicals proved to be a harbinger of what played out across denominational lines in America in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Virtually all denominations, including the Roman Catholic Church, had ardent advocates of predestination and equally fervent detractors. Revivalists argued about the pros and cons of free will and election. Denominations divided over strict versus loose subscription to confessional statements on the subject. And in American culture, the emergence of Enlightenment principles of reason and democracy combined with a rising tide of populism, egalitarianism, anticlericalism, and anti-authoritarianism to produce a decline in creedal confessionalism. Calvinism’s sovereign, predestinating God largely gave way to belief in various forms of human autonomy, producing an evangelical liberalism.29 Nowhere were these trends more prevalent than among the Presbyterian denominations. Presbyterians ratified the Adopting Act (1729), which required ministers to subscribe to the Westminster Confession. Although divisions separated New Side and Old Side views of piety and polity during the eighteenth century’s First Great Awakening, both parties accepted the Confession as containing “in all the essential and necessary articles, good forms of sound words and systems of Christian doctrine.” The two sides did not disagree about the doctrine of God’s decree. Opposition to the Confession, however, erupted in less than a century with the formation of the Cumberland Presbytery in Kentucky, which arose in the initial stage of America’s Second Great Awakening. Founders Finis Ewing, Samuel King, and Samuel McAdow, who formed the first presbytery in 1810, argued that the Westminster Confession’s teaching on election was a form of fatalism. When the first synod convened in 1813, it issued a “Brief Statement” that affirmed: “There are no eternal reprobates”; “Christ died not for a part only but for all mankind”; “all infants dying in infancy are saved through Christ”; “the Spirit of God operates on the world . . . as coextensively as Christ has made atonement.”30 A more widespread schism among Presbyterians during the Second Great Awakening resulted in a division between the Old School and New School parties from 1837 to 1869, over, among other factors, differences regarding human nature after the Fall and the implications arising from that dispute about the doctrine on God’s sovereignty and election. Princeton Seminary’s Charles Hodge defended Old School confessionalism as the legitimate interpretation of Calvinism’s five points and the Westminster Confession’s statement on God’s decree.31 Hodge asserted that predestination was consistent with human responsibility under the notion of concursus. Citing scholastic theologian Francis Turretin’s treatment of providence, Hodge affirmed that providence “is confessedly the most comprehensive and difficult [doctrine] in the compass either of theology or of philosophy.”32 God created and providentially ordered all things—even evil acts—because God is not only the creator and sustainer of the world but also the source of every action

Predestination and Election   405 derived from people’s unique created nature. God’s sovereignty and human agency are not contradictory, Hodge argued, because creaturely freedom as a gift of God can never conflict with his providence.33 Hodge also denounced the influence that Nathaniel W. Taylor, the Congregationalist minister of First Church in New Haven, Connecticut, had on New School Presbyterian views of God’s sovereignty. Taylor repudiated the emerging nineteenth-century consensus that Calvinism fostered moral laxity, but he removed the sharp edges of Calvinist doctrines to conform to revivalist practices. He altered the doctrine of original sin by stating that sin is only a product of human choices, not of a radical taint of human nature. Because of the Fall, though it is certain that humans will sin, all people retain “power to the contrary; they can avoid sinful acts.”34 Taylor promoted a reasonable form of revivalism. Not even mentioning God’s decrees, Taylor argued that God manifests his sovereignty not through election and reprobation but by being a benevolent governor over a moral universe. Christ atoned for all people who can repent of their sins and freely choose Christ out of their innate and appropriate self-love, in order to save themselves from the destructive power of sin.35 Taylor’s theology meshed perfectly with the practices of Charles G. Finney, America’s most successful New School revivalist. Both men believed that the Old School view that people could not avoid sin because of their inherited sinful human nature made God the author of sin. Finney effectively transformed the theological basis of revivalism. He built upon but modified Jonathan Edwards’s idea of psychology of the will, which he had put forth in his defense of Calvinism in Freedom of the Will (1754). Edwards, the leading Calvinist theologian in the First Great Awakening, distinguished man’s natural ability to obey God’s commands under normal circumstances from man’s moral inability to choose good because of the baleful effects of original sin.36 Finney rejected as unhelpful Edwards’s distinction between natural ability and moral inability because it rested on the fiction that people have an immoral substratum or nature that influences their will. Sin lies in the will alone. Therefore, in his new measures to promote revival, Finney exhorted sinners to come forward to an “anxious bench” and to use their natural moral ability to change their hearts by accepting Christ’s universal atoning work. Ironically, Finney at the same time combined belief in radical free will with a “radical Calvinism.” He insisted that not only was God’s agency necessary for persuading the sinner to choose Christ, but that in the matter of God’s eternal decrees, God’s foreknowledge was based on his predestination, and not the converse.37 Significant shifts in worldview between the Civil War and World War I contributed to changes in theology as evangelicalism gave way to more liberal theological views in both Europe and America. Charles Darwin’s advocacy of naturalistic evolution and new pragmatic epistemologies that replaced Scottish common-sense philosophy challenged primary Reformed tenets.38 Pressure mounted among progressive Presbyterians to revise the Westminster Confession to conform to modernity’s notions that the natural sciences and human nature were autonomous. Several conservative presbyteries brought charges against ministers and seminary professors for departing from the Confession’s Calvinism. One of those charged, Union Theological Seminary’s Charles  A.  Briggs, originally a

406   W. Andrew Hoffecker member of the Old School Church, criticized Princeton Theology professors Archibald A. Hodge and Benjamin B. Warfield for their “orthodoxism” in demanding an inerrant Bible and for imposing too-rigid Dutch and Swiss scholastic interpretations on the Confession. Traditional Calvinism, Briggs averred, rejected a more common-sense interpretation of the Bible. Sanctification, instead of resting on a division between those elected and those reprobated, would pose a more inclusive view of redemption. A probationary period beyond this existence could result in almost universal salvation. Although he explicitly denied universalism, Briggs believed that the vast majority of mankind would be saved.39 Under pressure from Universalists’ attack on the Westminster Confession, Congre­ gationalists adopted a substitute creed in 1883, which, by affirming twelve general theological points, simply avoided its disputed Calvinist views. Meanwhile, overtures to the Presbyterian General Assembly to revise the Confession began in 1887. Henry J. Van Dyke, pastor of Brooklyn’s First Presbyterian Church, argued that three elements needed to be modified: the doctrine of reprobation, the idea of elect infants, and the necessity of including a statement of a free offer of salvation to all people. Opponents of modifying the Confession believed that it remained adequate as a statement of faith and protested that demands to change it were an overt attempt to make the church more theologically inclusive. In extended essays on the Confession, including on the doctrine of predestination, Benjamin B. Warfield did not oppose revision in principle. But he contended that those desiring to revise the document wanted to make the claims of the gospel less distinct by de-emphasizing the denomination’s foundational doctrines, specifically predestination. The need of the day, according to Warfield, was not to surrender to pressure from theological liberals to alter historic Reformed orthodoxy. If any changes were to be made, they should be to make the Confession more precise by using sound biblical exegesis.40 Fifteen years of labor to revise the Confession resulted in a 1903 declaratory statement asserting that God’s eternal decrees were to be interpreted in conjunction with the belief that God loves all of humanity. Particularly nettlesome was the reference in chapter 10: “Elect infants, dying in infancy, are regenerated, and saved by Christ,” which, revisionists alleged, implied that other infants were reprobated. Warfield contended that the Confession’s framers did not intend to distinguish between elect and nonelect infants. Rather, “elect infants” referred to those who were saved apart from the preaching of the gospel, as opposed to those who were saved after reaching the age of accountability through normal means. He asserted, “The opinion that a body of non-elect infants dying in infancy and not saved is implied although often controversially asserted.” This “is not only a wholly unreasonable opinion exegetically, but is absolutely negatived [sic] by the history of the formation of this clause in the Assembly as recorded in the ‘Minutes’ and has never found favor among the expositors of the Confession.”41 The confession was altered to read, “all dying in infancy are included in the election of grace.”42 Confessional revision also cleared the way for merger, in 1906, of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) with the Cumberland Presbyterians, who had separated a century earlier over election. A similar declaratory statement,

Predestination and Election   407 intended to soften the Calvinist views of God’s decree of election, was adopted by the Presbyterian Church of Australia when the Presbyterian Churches of New South Wales, Victoria, Queensland, South Australia, Western Australia, and Tasmania were federated in 1901. Section 1 of the statement affirms “the love of God to all mankind” and “the free offer of salvation to men without distinction.” Section 2 declares that with respect to God’s eternal decree of election, God is not the author of sin, and that “God is not willing that any should perish.” Section 3 states that though no one is saved except through the mediation of Christ, “it is not required to be held that any who die in infancy are lost, or that God may not extend His grace to any who are without the pale of ordinary means, as it may seem good in His sight.”43 If the PCUSA revised the Confession, the southern Presbyterians in the Presbyterian Church, United States (PCUS), who had been mentored by Old Schoolers James Henley Thornwell of Columbia Seminary in South Carolina and Robert Lewis Dabney of Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, opposed any revision of the denomination’s Calvinist heritage and maintained that subscription to the Confession must remain a prerequisite of ordination. Thornwell cited Francis Turretin’s assessment that interpretations of God’s predestination based on foreseen faith should be called “postdestination,” because such a view made God’s decree dependent on human choice. Thornwell extensively refuted objections to both election and reprobation.44 While disputes over predestination roiled the American scene, Presbyterians in other countries proposed no revision of the Confession’s statement regarding God’s decrees. Princeton Seminary’s adherence to the Westminster Confession had influenced Presbyterian missions in Brazil and Korea. Ashbel Green Simonton, the first Presbyterian missionary sent to Brazil, established the first Brazilian Presbyterian Church in Rio de Janeiro in 1859, which adopted the Westminster Confession with only minor alterations. Pastors, elders, and deacons continue today to subscribe fully to the Confession.45 In 1907, the first meeting of the Korean Presbyterian Church adopted the Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Church in India and the Westminster Shorter Catechism. Calvinism was taught in the first Presbyterian seminary established in Pyongyang. Although acrimonious debates erupted in the twentieth century between Presbyterian factions over liberalism, neo-orthodoxy, Japanese shrine worship, and fundamentalism, no substantive debates over predestination and election emerged in Korea.46 In China, Robert Morrison, a Scots Presbyterian, published the first Chinese catechism 1812, based on the Westminster Shorter Catechism. It includes the question and answer: “Q 12: Does God govern all the acts of men. A. Most certainly. God even governs all good and evil.”47 In the twentieth century, Swiss theologian Karl Barth rejected the prevailing liberalism that de-emphasized God’s transcendence, minimized humanity’s sinfulness, and produced a facile optimism that was contradicted by the devastation of two world wars. In calling for a reappraisal of Reformed theology, Barth posed a radically new supralapsarian interpretation of predestination. Barth applied the terms election and reprobation not to individual humans but to Christ, who was both electing God and elected man. Christ on the cross suffered God’s judgment of sin and represents God’s reprobation—his penultimate “no” to humanity. But paradoxically, Christ on the cross was also God’s

408   W. Andrew Hoffecker elected One—his ultimate “yes” to mankind. Through the cross, God displays both his judgment of sin and his sovereign grace.48 In The Humanity of God (1960), Barth developed the Pauline theme of reconciliation to flesh out a new universalism. He cited 2 Corinthians 5:19 that “in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation” and Colossians 1:19, 20, which declares: “For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things.” Consequently, people have no right to assign limits to God’s loving-kindness.49 One of most tangible evidences of the influence of Barth on the PCUSA is that ­reconciliation became one of its major doctrinal themes. Pressure mounted among theological progressives in the 1950s to devise an updated statement of faith that was anchored neither in the seventeenth-century Westminster Confession nor in the extremes of the more recent liberal-fundamentalist controversies that roiled America’s major denominations in the 1920s. Another overture for doctrinal revision—this time to revise the Westminster Shorter Catechism—resulted in the adoption of the Confession of 1967 by the newly formed United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA), the name the church had taken after the 1958 merger of the PCUSA and the Presbyterian Church of North America). Birthed in the cultural upheaval of the 1960s and its radical movements for political, social, and economic change, the UPCUSA produced a more moderate theology that would empower the denomination to confront the problems of civil rights, economic disparity, women’s liberation, and other movements for cultural transformation. Constructed upon 2 Corinthians 5:19, the document explores three topics: “God’s Work of Reconciliation,” “The Ministry of Reconciliation,” and “The Fulfillment of Reconciliation.” Advocates argued that the Confession of 1967 would provide a theological basis for the church’s role in overcoming social evils. Opponents, by contrast, viewed the new confession as a deliberate attempt to distance the denomination from its original Reformed foundation. In 1967 the UPCUSA also adopted the Book of Confessions, which included this document as well as the Nicene and Apostles Creeds, four historical Reformed confessions, two catechisms, the 1934 Declaration of Barmen, and “A Brief Statement of Faith.” Left unaddressed was how Presbyterians’ previous allegiance to the cardinal Reformed doctrines of predestination and election played any role in contemporary faith and practice. Critics protested that modern and postmodern emphasis on the work of the church in such enterprises as the Social Gospel Movement, ecumenical ventures, and civil rights and advocacy of various forms of liberation supplanted long-standing attempts to provide a statement of Christian truth that is organically connected with its historic beliefs.50 Various liberal theological trends in the twentieth century led conservative minorities in both the PCUSA and the PCUS to separate from their denominations and form the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (1936), the Presbyterian Church in America (1973), and the Evangelical Presbyterian Church (1983). All three denominations retained the Westminster Confession as the basis for faith and practice. Viewing Reformed doctrines as the best biblical platform for evangelism, missions, and individual and social ethics, they continued to require subscription to them as a requirement for ordination. The Presbyterian Church of America (PCA) and the Evangelical Presbyterian Church (EPC)

Predestination and Election   409 simply identify the Westminster Confession and the Longer and Shorter Catechisms as the basis of their beliefs; the Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) includes eight brief paragraphs entitled “What We Believe.” The sixth statement affirms, “Those whom God has predestined unto life are effectually drawn to Christ by the inner working of the Spirit as they hear the gospel.” Both the OPC and EPC have issued statements opposing the controversial Open Theism movement that reprised and expanded the debates between Arminians and Calvinists over God’s foreknowledge, predestination, and human responsibility.51 In the twenty-first century, Presbyterians still experience deep division over Reformed doctrines of predestination and election. Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) opponents of the doctrines allege that Calvinist doctrines are outmoded by-products of humanity’s cultural past, as evidenced by the continued failure in previous centuries to achieve theological consensus. Today’s pressing social and political needs, such as reducing poverty and economic inequality, advancing gay rights, eliminating racism, and fostering gun control, are much more important, they argue, than maintaining theological purity. So prominent has the work of the church become that enforcement of church polity in pursuit of these goals has supplanted past efforts of the Presbyterian denominations to provide a clarion statement of their distinctive beliefs.52 Conservative Presbyterians, however, contend that traditional Reformed doctrines remain essential to the ministry of the gospel. Besides maintaining the integrity of Reformed doctrine, the primary mission of the church is not to pursue secular ends that are more appropriately tasks of the civil government or parachurch ministries, such as programs to relieve poverty or to reform education. They believe that faithfulness to predestination and election fuels the church’s spiritual mission of edifying the elect, fostering local and foreign mission programs, encouraging private and corporate worship, celebrating the sacraments, preaching the gospel to convert individuals, and engaging in ministry to those experiencing material need.

Notes 1. Confessional Protestant studies of predestination and election include G. C. Berkouwer, Divine Election (Grand Rapids, MI: William  B.  Eerdmans, 1960); Loraine Boettner, The Reformed Doctrine of Predestination (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1951); and Paul K. Jewett, Election and Predestination (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1985). 2. Similar texts affirming the certainty of predestined events yet also asserting human culpability appear in Acts 4:27, 28; and 5:30. 3. Augustine’s prayer, Confessions 10.40. For a summary of early patristic theology on ­predestination, see J.  N.  D.  Kelly, Early Christian Doctrine (San Francisco: Harper and Row,  1978), 366–369; and Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine, vol. 2: The Spirit of Eastern Christendom (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1974), 221–222, 294–295. 4. As for why God elected some and not others, Augustine left predestination an unfathomable mystery. His extensive polemic against Pelagius resulted, not only in a view of human nature that greatly influenced all subsequent discussion, but also in one of the clearest expositions of absolute predestination or monergism—the belief that regeneration is the

410   W. Andrew Hoffecker work of God’s Holy Spirit alone, not a cooperative effort between God’s work and the human will. On Council of Orange, see Kelly, Early Christian Doctrines, 371, 372; Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine, vol. 1: The Emergence of the Catholic Tradition (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971), 27–29. 5. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, 1.23.5–6, 8. On debates over predestination between Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, see Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine, vol. 3: The Growth of Medieval Theology (600–1300) (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1978), 80–98, 271–277. 6. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John  T.  McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 3.21.5. For discussion of various reformers on predestination, cf. Jaroslav Pelikan, The Christian Tradition: A History of the Development of Doctrine, vol. 4: Reformation of Church and Dogma (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 28–35, 92–98, 217–232, 239–240, 259–260, 288–289, 363–367, 379–380. 7. Calvin, Institutes, 3.23.2. 8. Institutes, 3.23.7. 9. Institutes, 3.23.10. 10. Institutes, 3.23.12. 11. Institutes, 3.23.13. 12. Institutes, 1.5.11, 1.16.5, 1.16.8–9; 3.7.10. 13. Institutes, 3.22.7, 3.27.4, 3.14.5–6. 14. Calvin cites Augustine for the pattern of preaching that leads to subjective certainty. Calvin, Institutes, 3.964. 15. John Knox, The Works of John Knox, ed. David Lang (Edinburgh: Johnson and Hunter, 1862), 25–26. 16. Knox, Works of John Knox, 331–402. 17. Among the theologies that emerged in the era following the original reformers, the scholastic synthesis of Swiss theologian Francis Turretin served as the baseline, especially for theologians in American Presbyterian seminaries, well into the nineteenth century. See Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, 3 vols., ed. James Denniston Jr. (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 1992). 18. Pelikan, Christian Tradition, 4:232–239. 19. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.1. 20. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.5. 21. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.3. 22. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.6; 10.1; 17.1. 23. Westminster Confession of Faith, 3.8. 24. See Immanuel Kant’s reconstruction of Christianity in Kant, Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone (New York: Harper and Row, 1960). 25. Throughout The Christian Faith, Schleiermacher systematically probed in detail previous Reformed doctrines, for example, theology as a discipline, the authority of the Bible, the person and work of Christ, atonement, and the sacraments, and revised each by applying the notion of Gefuhl—intuition or God-consciousness. 26. Friedrich Schleiermacher, The Christian Faith (New York: Harper and Row, 1956), 2:533–585. 27. See Peter Thuesen, Predestination: The American Career of a Contentious Doctrine (New York: Oxford University Press, 2009), 91–99, 113. 28. Thuesen, Predestination, 91–95.

Predestination and Election   411 29. Nathan Hatch, The Democratization of American Christianity (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1989), 11–14, 44–46, 170–179. Thuesen discusses the acrimony over predestination among various denominations, including Presbyterianism. Thuesen, Predestination, 100–171. 30. Included in the “Preface to the 1883 Confession” was a statement of the purpose of the Confession of 1814: “to so modify the Westminster Confession as to eliminate therefrom the doctrine of universal fore-ordination and its legitimate sequences, unconditional election and reprobation, limited atonement, and divine influence correspondingly circumscribed” as examples of “hyper-Calvinism.” See Confession of Faith of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church 1984, with revisions and amendments (Cordova, TN: Office of the General Assembly, 2010), iii. 31. Thuesen, Predestination, 179–180. See also W. Andrew Hoffecker, Charles Hodge: The Pride of Princeton (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2011), 143–147. 32. Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, 3 vols. (London: James Clarke, 1960), 3:605. 33. Concursus as understood by Hodge was consistent with Westminster Confession 3.1: “God from all eternity, did, by the most wise and holy counsel of His own free will, freely, and unchangeably ordain whatsoever comes to pass; yet so, as thereby neither is God the author of sin, nor is violence offered to the will of creatures; nor is the liberty or contingency of secondary causes taken away, but rather established.” 34. Nathaniel W. Taylor, “Man a Free Moral Agent without the Aids of Divine Grace,” in Tracts Designed to Illustrate and Enforce the Most Important Doctrines of the Gospel (New Haven, CT, 1818). 35. Concio ad Clerum: A Sermon Delivered in the Chapel of Yale College, September 10, 1828, By Nathaniel William Taylor (New Haven, CT: A. H. Maltby and Homan Hollack, 1842). See Mark Noll, America’s God: From Jonathan Edwards to Abraham Lincoln (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 290–292, 297–299. Nathan Hatch stated that the rising tide of common sense in which everyone could think for himself simply edged out “the senseless jargon of election and reprobation.” Democratization of American Christianity, 173; and E. Brooks Holifield, Theology in America: Christian Thought from the Age of the Puritans to the Civil War (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003), 352–361. 36. Paul Ramsey, ed., The Works of Jonathan Edwards, vol. 1: Freedom of the Will (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1957), 34–47, 156–162. 37. Thuesen, Predestination, 115, 116, 260n63. 38. David A. Hollinger, After Cloven Tongues of Fire: Protestant Liberalism in American History (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2013). 39. “The Inaugural Address,” in The Edward Robinson Chair of Biblical Theology, cited in Lefferts A. Loetscher, The Broadening Church (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1954), 32, 38, 42, 43, 51. 40. Representative essays by Warfield on predestination are “The Making of the Westminster Confession, and Especially of Its Chapter on the Decree of God,” in The Westminster Assembly and Its Work (New York: Oxford University Press, 1929), 75–154; and “Predestination,” in Biblical Doctrines (New York: Oxford University Press, 1924), 3–70. 41. B.  B.  Warfield, Studies in Theology (New York: Oxford University Press, 1953), 436n79. Thuesen gives extensive coverage to the controversy over elect infants. See Thuesen, Predestination, 175–179, 184–218. 42. The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), pt. 1, Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 1991), 6, 191–193. 4 3. Presbyterian Church of Australia Act 1900 64 Vic No. 34, 5–6.

412   W. Andrew Hoffecker 44. John  B.  Adger, ed., The Collected Writings of James Henley Thornwell, D.D., LL.D. (Richmond, VA: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1889), 2:127. 45. Although the Brazilian church posed no revision to the confession, significant debate emerged over other doctrines. See, for example, Augustus Nicodemus Lopez, “Recent Trends with Brazilian Evangelicalism,” World Reformed Fellowship, http://wrfnet.org/ resources/2008/recent-trends-brazilian-evangelicalism, January, 7, 2013. Accessed 12-29-2018. 46. Harvie Conn, “Studies in the Theology of the Korean Presbyterian Church: An Historical Outline,” Westminster Theological Journal 39 (1966): 4–57. 47. Michael M., “Appendix A: Robert Morrison’s Catechism,” in Bruce Baugus, ed., China’s Reforming Churches: Mission, Polity and Ministry in the Next Christendom (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2014), 309. 48. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 2, pt. 2, The Doctrine of God, trans. G. W. Bromiley (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1957), 168–174. 49. Karl Barth, The Humanity of God (Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1960), 37–65. 50. Loetscher contends that as early as 1869, “the subordination of unresolved theological differences to the necessities of cooperation for the successful prosecution of the ‘church’s work’ meant that subordination of truth—though only of those regarded as ‘unessential’—to efficiency of operation carries a recognizable suggestion of pragmatism.” 51. See Administrative Committee PCA; What We Believe; Westminster Confession of Faith, https://www.pcaac.org/resources/wcf. Accessed 12-29-2018: Evangelical Presbyterian Church; The Essentials of Our Faith, https://epc.org/about/beliefs/. Accessed 12-29-2018; Orthodox Presbyterian Church; Open Theism, https://www.opc.org/qa.html/?question_ id=107. Accessed 12-29-2018 The PCA Bookstore website, https://www.pcabookstore.com/ features John Frame, No Other God: A Response to Open Theism (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2001). 52. Bradley  J.  Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 201–203.

Bibliography Berkouwer, G. C. Divine Election. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1960. Boettner, Loraine. The Reformed Doctrine of Predestination. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1951. Hatch, Nathan  O. The Democratization of American Christianity. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press 1989. Holifield, E. Brooks. Theology in America: Christian Thought from the Age of the Puritans to the Civil War. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press 2003. Kelly, J. N. D. Early Christian Doctrines. San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1978. Loetscher, Lefferts. The Broadening Church: A Study of Theological Issues in the Presbyterian Church since 1869. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1954. Noll, Mark A. America’s God: From Jonathan Edwards to Abraham Lincoln. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. Thuesen, Peter J. Predestination: The American Career of a Contentious Doctrine. New York: Oxford University Press, 2009.

chapter 25

N eo - Orthodox y a n d Pr esby ter i a n ism John P. Burgess

Introduction The relation of neo-orthodoxy, especially as represented by the theology of Karl Barth, to Presbyterianism belongs within the context of two other theological trajectories that have been equally influential in Presbyterianism since the early twentieth century: a Reformed orthodoxy oriented by the Westminster Confession of Faith and a theological liberalism that has regarded traditional church teachings as myths and symbols that can motivate progressive social action. While these three movements (and the collisions between them) have been especially pronounced in the United States, American missionary efforts and the important role of American Presbyterian educational institutions in training foreign pastors and scholars have given them wider prominence. Although many different theologies now shape Presbyterianism, it is likely that neo-orthodoxy, Westminster orthodoxy, and theological liberalism will continue to be the dominant currents in the decades ahead.

The Reception of Neo-Orthodoxy in Europe and North America Neo-orthodoxy emerged in the early twentieth century, as a reaction against the German theological liberalism associated with Friedrich Schleiermacher, Albrecht Ritschl, Ernst Troeltsch, and others. At the head of this protest was the Swiss Reformed pastor and theologian Karl Barth. After having been educated in Germany’s premier

414   John P. Burgess theological educational institutions, Barth grew disenchanted with the theological liberalism of his teachers because it had not prevented—and may even have encouraged— their enthusiastic endorsement of the German war effort in World War I, whose brutality shook liberal Europeans’ faith in the innate goodness of humanity and in historical progress. A number of younger German-speaking theologians, including Emil Brunner and Rudolf Bultmann, joined Barth in re-emphasizing classical Christian themes of the ontological divide between God and humanity, the sinful depravity of humanity, and Christ’s unique saving work. Nevertheless, this “dialectical theology,” as it was originally called, was not a return to eighteenth-century Protestant orthodoxy. Like their liberal theological teachers, the dialectical theologians affirmed the validity of historical critical inquiry into the Scriptures, the importance of relating the gospel to the natural sciences and contemporary philosophical movements, and the responsibility of the church to address social issues. However, the dialectical theologians soon found themselves moving in very different directions, as exemplified by Barth’s sharp attacks on aspects of Brunner’s and Bultmann’s theologies. In the end, Barth’s name became synonymous with neo-orthodoxy, although he himself rejected this label.1 The dialectical theologians had only limited impact on Anglo-American theology prior to World War II. While some of their works had appeared in English translation in the 1920s and 1930s, many of their major writings were not completed or translated until after the war. The war also interrupted work on the English translation of Barth’s monumental Church Dogmatics. The first half-volume of the Dogmatics was published in Britain in 1936; however, the translators did not issue subsequent volumes until the late 1950s, even as Barth continued to work on the last parts of the Dogmatics. A second factor delaying attention to German dialectical theology and neo-orthodoxy in the United States was the continuing prominence of the liberal social gospel theologies of the early twentieth century, represented by Walter Rauschenbusch, Shailer Mathews, and others. While newly emerging American Protestant theologians, such as Reinhold Niebuhr and his brother H. Richard Niebuhr, had already begun, in the 1920s and 1930s, to draw from and respond to the new German theologies, the impact of the Second World War abroad and of racial and economic inequality at home spurred them to give more sustained consideration to neo-orthodox themes of divine transcendence and human sin. Nevertheless, as church historian Gary Dorrien argues, the Niebuhrs and their disciples are better classified as neoliberal than as neo-orthodox.2 Whereas Barth viewed Scripture as setting forth an existential encounter with the living God, the Niebuhrs, like their liberal theological forebears, regarded the Bible as a collection of wise human insights clothed in mythological language that, along with other philosophical and scientific resources, could illuminate the human condition. Moreover, the Niebuhrs assumed that the church would remain a dominant force in shaping American cultural and political life, whereas Barth foresaw the end of the Christendom that had characterized the West since the Middle Ages. Only in the 1970s and 1980s, with the rise of narrative and postliberal theologies, first associated with Hans Frei and George Lindbeck at Yale

Neo-Orthodoxy and Presbyterianism   415 Divinity School and then powerfully developed in the work of Stanley Hauerwas, did American theologians begin to engage Barth’s theology more directly, thoroughly, and appreciatively. Presbyterian theologians at Princeton Theological Seminary—especially George Hunsinger and Bruce McCormack—became leading contemporary interpreters of Barth, and their publications, graduate students, and conferences generated new interest in neo-orthodoxy worldwide.

Neo-Orthodoxy as a Third Way In the early twentieth century, the debate between modernists and fundamentalists hit American Presbyterianism especially hard.3 The Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) contributed leading pastors and seminary teachers to both sides, and the denomination’s general assemblies were buffeted by both groups until the 1927 General Assembly approved the report of a special commission on the peace, unity, and purity of the church. The modernists, most notably Henry Sloane Coffin, president of Union Theological Seminary, argued for the validity of interpreting such traditional theological doctrines as the virgin birth and Christ’s resurrection as symbols of Christ’s historical uniqueness and influence. The fundamentalists, led by Princeton Theological Seminary’s J. Gresham Machen, rejected historical critical interpretation of the Bible and defended the theology of the nineteenth-century Princeton School of Charles Hodge and Benjamin B. Warfield, which revered the Westminster Confession of Faith and affirmed the inerrancy of Scripture, the historicity of the virgin birth, and Christ’s resurrection. The PCUSA had traditionally required all candidates for ordained ministry to subscribe to the “system of doctrine” taught by Westminster Confession, the church’s single confessional standard. Under the growing influence of the fundamentalist wing of the church, the 1910, 1916, and 1923 General Assemblies had further required affirmation of “five fundamentals” (the virgin birth, Christ’s physical resurrection, the inerrancy of Scripture, the miracle-working power of Jesus, and substitutionary atonement). The moderate position that prevailed in 1927 held that pastors could interpret these traditional teachings either symbolically or literally without harming the denomination’s faith or mission. Moreover, the General Assembly that year declared determination of candidates’ orthodoxy to be a matter for the presbyteries and therefore the General Assembly did not have the authority to require subscription to the “five fundamentals.” In protest, Machen and some of his associates left Princeton and the PCUSA and established Westminster Seminary in Philadelphia, in 1929, and the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, in 1936. In the following decades, the moderates continued to try to hold together the church’s more liberal and conservative wings by maintaining but broadening the church’s confessional identity.4 In 1956, as the PCUSA and the United Presbyterian Church of North America prepared to unite, the PCUSA General Assembly appointed a committee to revise the Westminster Confession. The committee proposed, instead, composing a new

416   John P. Burgess confession to supplement Westminster. In 1967, the new denomination, the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA), approved the Confession of 1967 (C67) to be part of a book of confessions that included not only the Westminster Confession and Shorter Catechism but also the Nicene Creed and the Apostles’ Creed, three Reformed confessions of the sixteenth century (the Scots Confession, the Heidelberg Catechism, and the Second Helvetic Confession), and the twentieth-century Theological Declaration of Barmen.5 The Assembly also adopted new ordination vows that reflected these changes. With these moves, the UPCUSA emphasized the historical contextualism of all confessional statements and the Reformed principle of preparing new confessions to speak into new situations. The denomination professed continuing loyalty to Westminster, but now as only one confessional standard among others. As in 1927, theological conservatives argued that confessional authority was being compromised, which prompted some of them to found the Presbyterian Church in America, in 1973, and the Evangelical Presbyterian Church, in 1981, both of which have maintained Westminster as their sole confessional standard. During the 1950s and 1960s, some Presbyterian moderates regarded neo-orthodoxy and Barthian theology as either a middle way between or a path beyond theological liberalism and Westminster orthodoxy. While the 1967 decisions reflect various theological influences and compromises, impulses from Barth’s neo-orthodoxy frame the enterprise as a whole. In his Church Dogmatics, Barth asks that the church be guided by its historic confessions, and at the same time calls on it to formulate new confessions of faith in a status confessionis, such as the Nazi threat that led Barth to participate in composing the Barmen Declaration.6 Following Barth’s suggestion, the UPCUSA sought to provide “a present witness” (9.01) to the world by means of a new confession (C67), even as it valued historic confessions “as “authentic and reliable expositions of what Scripture leads us to believe and do” (third ordination question).7 By including the Barmen Declaration in its new Book of Confessions, the UPCUSA directly acknowledged its debt to Barth. But in C67, the denomination also drew many parallels, even if less directly, with Barth’s theology. Reconciliation was a major shared theme. Just as Barth developed his Christology within the framework of “the doctrine of reconciliation,” C67 affirms that “in Jesus Christ, God was reconciling the world to himself. Jesus Christ is God with man. He is the eternal Son of the Father, who became man and lived among us to fulfill the work of reconciliation” (9.07). In addition, both Barth and C67 have a clear Christological starting point and center. Barth argued that knowledge of God (and therefore all dogmatic theology) begins from God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ rather than from a natural theology or, as Westminster asserts, a theology of a covenant of works prior to a covenant of grace. Barth, moreover, argues that we come to know God as Trinity through Jesus Christ. The Confession of 1967 similarly highlights “The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ” before explicating “The Love of God” and “The Communion of the Holy Spirit.” The new ordination questions for church officers had a similar structure. The first question asked ministers, elders, and deacons to affirm their trust in Jesus Christ “as Savior, acknowledge

Neo-Orthodoxy and Presbyterianism   417 him Lord of all and head of the Church, and through him believe in one God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.” The priority of God’s grace in Jesus Christ establishes for both Barth and C67 how humans come to recognize their sin. Barth rejects the traditional Lutheran view that God’s law, as summed up in the Decalogue, first convicts us of our sin and our need for grace. For Barth, only an encounter with God’s grace in Jesus Christ truly reveals our sinfulness to us. Similarly, C67 affirms that “the reconciling act of God in Jesus Christ exposes the evil in men as sin in the sight of God” (9.12). Further, for both Barth and C67, Christ calls humans to adopt a new way of life characterized by words and deeds that point to God’s continuing work of reconciliation in Christ. Barth developed this idea by referring to Christ as “the true witness” and by explicating Christian vocation in terms of witness.8 Every follower of Christ, he argued, should participate in the church’s ministry and witness. C67 makes similar statements. After speaking of God’s reconciling work, the confession discusses “The Ministry of Reconciliation,” beginning with “The Mission of the Church,” and affirms that “to be reconciled to God is to be sent into the world as his reconciling community. . . . [The church] is entrusted with God’s message of reconciliation and shares his labor of healing the enmities which separate men from God and from each other” (9.31). Moreover, “each member is . . . endowed by the Spirit with some gift of ministry” and “is responsible for the integrity of his witness in his own particular situation” (9.38). Both Barth and C67 relate Christian witness to concrete ethical action, although C67 goes beyond what Barth sketched out but was unable to complete in Church Dogmatics volume 4, part 4, prior to his death. Barth focuses his ethics of reconciliation on God’s righteousness and on human freedom in Christ, whereas C67 identifies four specific areas of contemporary social life in which the church is called to promote reconciliation: racial relations and the problem of racism, international relations and the problem of war (and, especially, the threat of nuclear destruction), economic relations and the problem of poverty, and relations between men and women and the problem of disordered expressions of sexuality (9.44–47).9 The ordination questions also highlight Christian ethical responsibility for reconciliation: “Will you in your own life seek to follow the Lord Jesus Christ, love your neighbors, and work for the reconciliation of the world?” C67 and Barthian neo-orthodoxy are also comparable in their understanding of Scripture. Barth distinguishes three forms of the Word of God—Jesus Christ, the Bible, and the church’s proclamation—even as he insists that the Scriptures and their proclamation are the unique means by which Christ, the living Word, comes to us.10 Similarly, C67 states: “The one sufficient revelation of God is Jesus Christ, the Word of God incarnate, to whom the Holy Spirit bears unique and authoritative witness through the Holy Scriptures, which are received and obeyed as the Word of God written . . . . God’s word is spoken to his church today where the Scriptures are faithfully preached” (9.27, 30). The ordination questions strike a similar note: “Do you accept the Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments to be, by the Holy Spirit, the unique and authoritative witness to Jesus Christ in the Church universal, and God’s Word to you?”

418   John P. Burgess In other ways, however, C67 is closer to Reinhold Niebuhr’s chastened liberalism than to neo-orthodoxy. Instead of defending Christian faith in light of new challenges posed by historical research and scientific findings, C67 focuses on how traditional Christian teachings illuminate the meaning of human existence: Christ’s “suffering makes the church sensitive to all the sufferings of mankind so that it sees the face of Christ in the faces of men in every kind of need. His crucifixion discloses to the church God’s judgment on man’s inhumanity to man . . . . In the power of the risen Christ and the hope of his coming, the church sees the promise of God’s renewal of man’s life in society” (9.32). The church therefore “applies itself to present tasks and strives for a better world” (9.55). If a neo-orthodox consensus ever existed among mainline Presbyterians in the United States, it quickly dissipated in the late 1960s and 1970s, when American society was being torn apart by racial conflict and the Vietnam War and the influence of Presbyterians and other mainline Protestants was in decline.11 At a conference commemorating the fifteenth anniversary of C67, speakers ignored its neo-orthodox elements and focused, instead, on its compatibility with contemporary liberation theologies.12 Those theologically and morally conservative members who remained in the denomination, represented by such groups as the Presbyterian Lay Committee, increasingly opposed or ignored C67 and appealed, instead, to the Barmen Declaration to deplore what they viewed as the denomination’s accommodation to the “events and powers, figures and truths” of a secular, liberal age.13 Similar debates were taking place at the same time in the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), the so-called Southern Presbyterian Church. A “Declaration of Faith” that, like C67, melded neo-orthodox theology with neoliberal concerns about social justice was composed in the early 1970s but never adopted because of resistance from the Westminster Standards wing of the denomination. Although the more moderate and liberal parts of the denomination retained influence, reuniting in 1983 with the UPCUSA, to form the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), several hundred conservative congregations had by then departed to form the Presbyterian Church in America. In Scotland, the other traditional bastion of Presbyterianism, leading twentieth-century Presbyterian theologians, most notably Hugh R. Mackintosh and T. F. Torrance, were influenced by Barthian theology. But Scottish Presbyterianism has its own rich theological heritage in such figures as John Knox and John McLeod Campbell, and Torrance also had deep interests in the natural sciences and the possibilities of a reconceived natural theology that moved beyond Barth’s neo-orthodoxy. Moreover, today’s Scottish Presbyterian Church has been more profoundly shaped by a broad theological liberalism than by either neo-orthodoxy or the Westminster Confession, although Westminster remains the church’s sole confessional standard. Theological liberalism also characterizes much of Canadian Presbyterianism.14 In 1925, more than two-thirds of the Canadian Presbyterian congregations merged with Methodists and Congregationalists to form the United Church, which today emphasizes its inclusive, nonconfessional nature. Those who remained in the Presbyterian Church in Canada have welcomed a wide range of theological positions, including neo-orthodoxy. In 1984,

Neo-Orthodoxy and Presbyterianism   419 the Presbyterian Church in Canada adopted a statement of belief called “Living Faith,” which drew extensively from C67 and the PCUS “Declaration of Faith.”

Neo-Orthodoxy and Liberation Conservatives in the PC(USA) in the 1980s and 1990s may have missed the irony of appealing to the Barmen Declaration to defend the church’s historic faith. Barth had often criticized Protestant orthodoxy, and, in return, Cornelius Van Til, one of the Princeton Seminary professors who had left for Westminster Seminary in 1929, had sharply rejected Barthian theology, a position that long characterized conservative Presbyterians in general and those outside the PCUSA in particular, such as in Van Til’s Orthodox Presbyterian Church.15 Moreover, Barth’s politics clashed with the stance of many Presbyterians who adhered to the Westminster Standards alone. Barth argued that the Christian faith favors much of a socialist democratic political program, and though he had reservations about the term “liberation,” he was sympathetic to the theologies of the newly emerging Christian churches in Africa and Asia. Moreover, Barth’s theology emphasized ethical “freedom” in a way that seemed to some conservatives to undermine traditional Christian morality, as when Barth allowed for the possibility of divorce or abortion. This politically progressive side of Barthian neo-orthodoxy is expressed in a second confessional document that has significantly influenced contemporary Presbyterianism, the Confession of Belhar, composed by South African Reformed theologians, in 1982, and adopted as a confession of faith by the South African Dutch Reformed Mission Church, in 1986.16 Since then, the confession has been affirmed or adopted by other Reformed and Presbyterian churches in Africa, Europe, and the United States, and in 2016, it was included in the PC(USA) Book of Confessions. While Belhar was written to protest the racial apartheid that existed in South Africa until 1991, the European and American Presbyterians who have embraced it regard its emphasis on unity and justice as equally relevant to their denominations and societies. Like the Barmen Declaration and in accord with Barth’s thinking about church confessions, each section of the Confession of Belhar begins with theological affirmations grounded in Scripture, followed by corresponding theological negations (anathemas). Belhar also parallels Barmen in being short, concise, and focused on a specific political problem that has placed the church in a status confessionis, in contrast to the Reformation-era confessions that develop a comprehensive system of doctrine without reference to a particular social or ecclesiastical situation. Like C67, the Confession of Belhar makes the Barthian theme of reconciliation foundational. Belhar’s first thesis (10.3) parallels Barth’s comments on the church in the Church Dogmatics. For Barth, the church, as a reconciled community in Christ, is the provisional representation of the kingdom of God. Belhar similarly declares, “Christ’s

420   John P. Burgess work of reconciliation is made manifest in the church as the community of believers who have been reconciled with God and with one another.”17 Barth exhorts Christ’s followers to commit themselves to visible unity. For Belhar, too, visible church unity is both a “gift” and an “obligation.” Just as Barth believes that church members witness to Christ not only by proclaiming the gospel but also by living as a reconciled community, Belhar declares that the church’s unity “must become visible so that the world may believe that separation, enmity and hatred between people and groups is sin . . . and accordingly that anything which threatens this unity . . . must be resisted.” Barth argues that every Christian has responsibility for the church’s life. So, too, Belhar declares that “the variety of spiritual gifts, opportunities, backgrounds, convictions, as well as the various languages and cultures [of the church’s members], are by virtue of the reconciliation in Christ, opportunities for mutual service and enrichment within the one visible people of God.” Building on Barth, Belhar also expounds on the ethical implications of a theology of reconciliation. Barth argued that the church’s proclamation of the freedom of the gospel—freedom from sin and freedom before God—is authentic only if the church is working to free people from the oppressive powers of this world. Belhar draws out the practical implications of this stance: The church “must stand where the Lord stands, namely against injustice and with the wronged . . . the church must witness against all the powerful and privileged who selfishly seek their own interests and thus control and harm others” (10.7). Moreover, just as Barth declared that the church must often “swim against the stream” of society, Belhar proclaims that the church is called “to do all these things, even though the authorities and human laws might forbid them and punishment and suffering be the consequence” (10.9). But, even more than C67, Belhar develops liberationist themes that go beyond Barth’s position. Barth constantly warned Christians against identifying human programs for justice with God’s righteousness. Our limited and flawed efforts, as important as they are, can at best point to the true justice that God alone will accomplish. Barth therefore grounded his ethics in prayer, not moral or political ideals, whereas Belhar focuses on how Christians should treat each other in the community of faith and society.18 The movement from a neo-orthodox theology toward a liberationist ethic is also evident in the PC(USA)’s “A Brief Statement of Faith,” adopted in 1991. With the reunion of the UPCUSA and the PCUS in 1983, the Brief Statement sought to clarify Presbyterian and Reformed identity in an America that was becoming more secular in its public institutions and more pluralistic in its religious life. Only eighty lines long and intended for use in worship, many of the Brief Statement’s theological affirmations are sufficiently broad to avoid resolving theological differences between liberals and conservatives, even as some conservatives have continued to leave a denomination that they regard as excessively liberal on such social issues as human sexuality. While Trinitarian in structure like the Nicene and Apostles’ Creeds, the Brief Statement reflects the neo-orthodox perspective of C67 by beginning with Jesus Christ, “fully human, fully divine,” before moving to God, “whom Jesus called Abba, Father” and the Holy Spirit, “everywhere the giver and renewer of life” (lines 8, 28, and 53). In the

Neo-Orthodoxy and Presbyterianism   421 Church Dogmatics, Barth explains how the Holy Spirit gathers, upbuilds, and sends the church. The Brief Statement accentuates these themes: the Spirit “binds us together” as the body of Christ”; the Spirit engages us through the Word, claims us in baptism, feeds us in the Lord’s Supper, and calls us to ministry; and the Spirit “gives us courage” to witness to Christ, “to unmask idolatries in Church and culture . . . and to work with others for justice, freedom, and peace” (lines 56, 61–71). These liberationist and social-justice motifs are much more prominent than the Brief Statement’s vague neo-orthodox parallels. The statement emphasizes Christ’s earthly ministry: “preaching good news to the poor,” releasing “captives,” “healing the sick,” “eating with outcasts,” and “forgiving sinners” (lines 10–17). The influence of feminist theology is evident: God creates men and women as equals, God is like a mother and a father, and the Spirit calls both “women and men to all ministries of the Church” (lines 30–31, 33, 49–51, and 64). The Brief Statement also reflects ecological concerns (line 38). Like the Confession of Belhar, the Brief Statement accentuates neoliberal theological themes of human responsibility for justice rather than Barth’s language of witnessing to God’s righteousness.

The Future of Neo-Orthodoxy in the Presbyterian Churches Today, Westminster orthodoxy, theological liberalism (with a social-justice emphasis often that is informed by liberation theologies), and Barthian neo-orthodoxy continue to be the three major theological orientation points for the world’s Presbyterian family. Theological and social liberalism characterizes much of mainline Presbyterianism not only in the United States and Scotland but also in England, Canada, and Australia. American Presbyterian denominations that split off from the PC(USA) continue to adhere to the Westminster Standards, as do many Presbyterian bodies in Africa and Asia, where North American Presbyterian missionaries were active in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries (Korean Presbyterianism is a premier example). Barthian neo-orthodoxy does not have a dominating theological presence in any Presbyterian denomination, but it has shaped several contemporary Presbyterian confessions and continues to inspire numerous Presbyterian theologians in different parts of the world. Moreover, the once sharp lines between these three theological perspectives have blurred. Not only have Presbyterian theologians who are strongly influenced by Barth shown interest in liberation theologies, but they have also rediscovered theological riches in the older Protestant orthodoxy.19 Presbyterian theologians who prize the Westminster Standards have become more interested in learning from Barth and his deep engagement of Scripture and the great confessions and teachers of the wider Christian tradition.20 Moreover, some contemporary feminist and progressive liberal theologians value Barth’s admonition that the church listen for God’s living Word in

422   John P. Burgess specific social contexts.21 Barthian theology may not provide a third way, but neither of the other camps simply dismisses it today. Barth’s neo-orthodoxy will remain especially important to Presbyterians as they learn to think missiologically. Barth’s argument that Christians must serve as a creative minority in their societies and his insistence that witness defines the very character of the church have made decisive contributions not only to the academic field of missiology, most notably in the work of South African Reformed theologian David Bosch, but also to Presbyterian ministry as pastors seek to shape congregations that are faithful to the gospel.22 Moreover, this missiological emphasis has relevance beyond mainline Presbyterian denominations that are experiencing numerical decline and decreased social influence. Presbyterian communions once considered “mission churches,” as in South Korea, are now among the most active missionary denominations. They, too, benefit immensely from a Barthian-shaped missiology that moves pastors and congregations beyond techniques of evangelism and mission to a theological vision of God’s inbreaking kingdom in Jesus Christ, represented by his body, the church.

Notes 1. For the problem of defining neo-orthodoxy, see Gary Dorrien, The Barthian Revolt in Modern Theology (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2000), 1–13. 2. Gary Dorrien, The Making of American Liberal Theology: Idealism, Realism, and Modernity, 1900–1950 (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003), 435–436. 3. For a detailed account of this history, see Bradley J. Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991). 4. See Lefferts A. Loetscher, The Broadening Church (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1954). 5. The Larger Catechism was added to the Book of Confessions when the UPCUSA and the Presbyterian Church in the United States reunited in 1983. 6. See Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 3, pt. 4 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1961), 73–86. 7. The references in parentheses refer to the paragraph numbering in Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church U.S.A., 2016). For the ordination questions, see Book of Order, 2007–2009 (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church U.S.A., 2007), W-4.4003. 8. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 3, pt. 1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1961), and vol. 3, pt. 2 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1962). 9. For Barth’s position, see his lecture fragments, published posthumously as The Christian Life (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1981). 10. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 1 (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1975), 88–124. 11. See Bradley J. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 175–203. 12. See “Reconciliation and Liberation: The Confession of 1967,” special issue, Journal of Presbyterian History 61 (1983): 1–196. 13. See “The Theological Declaration of Barmen,” Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, Presbyterian Church U.S.A., 2016), 8.12.

Neo-Orthodoxy and Presbyterianism   423 14. See John S. Moir, Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada (Don Mills, ON: Presbyterian Publications, 1975). 15. See Cornelius Van Til, Christianity and Barthianism (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1962). 16. See Piet Naudé, Neither Calendar nor Clock: Perspectives on the Belhar Confession (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2010). 17. The quotations and references to the Confession of Belhar are from Book of Confessions. 18. See Barth, Christian Life, 49–69. 19. See, for example, Katherine Sonderegger, “Called to Salvation in Christ: Justification and Predestination,” in What Is Justification About? Reformed Contributions to an Ecumenical Theme, ed. Michael Weinrich and John P. Burgess (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2009), 122–138. 20. See the essays in Karl Barth and American Evangelicalism, ed. Bruce L. McCormack and Clifford B. Anderson (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2011). See also the brief comments in Darryl G. Hart, Calvinism: A History (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013), 303–304. 21. See William Stacy Johnson, The Mystery of God: Karl Barth and the Postmodern Foundations of Theology (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1997), and Andrea White, The Back of God: A Theology of Otherness in Karl Barth and Paul Ricoeur (forthcoming). 22. See David  J.  Bosch, Transforming Mission: Paradigm Shifts in Theology of Mission (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1991). Bosch praises “Barth’s magnificent and consistent missionary ecclesiology” (382).

Bibliography Dorrien, Gary. The Barthian Revolt in Modern Theology. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2000. Dorrien, Gary. The Making of American Liberal Theology: Idealism, Realism, and Modernity, 1900–1950. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2003. Loetscher, Lefferts  A. The Broadening Church. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1954. Longfield, Bradley  J. The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Longfield, Bradley  J. Presbyterians and American Culture: A History. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Moir, John S. Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Don Mills, ON: Presbyterian Publications, 1975.

chapter 26

Pr esby ter i a ns a n d the Gl oba l Ch a r ism atic Mov em en ts Michael McClymond

Introduction On May 3, 1832, the Times of London commented on the church trial of Edward Irving, who had just had his ministerial credentials revoked by the Church of Scotland, after repeated episodes of speaking in tongues that had occurred in his large and renowned congregation in London. The article declared: The blasphemous absurdities which have for some months past been enacted in the Caledonian Church, Regent Square, are now, we trust, brought to an effectual conclusion. The Scotch Presbytery in London . . . declared that the fooleries which he had encouraged or permitted were inconsistent with the doctrine and discipline of the Scotch National Establishment. . . . So long as the rev. gentleman occupied the stage himself, he was heard with patience—perhaps, sometimes with pity . . . but when he entered into partnership with knaves and imposters, to display their concerted “manifestations”—when he profaned the sanctuary of God, by introducing hideous interludes of “the unknown tongues,” it was impossible any longer to tolerate the nuisance.1

In less than three years, the Irving was dead at age 42. Only a decade earlier he had been dubbed “the orator of our age,” and the former prime minister George Canning, and such literary figures as Samuel Coleridge and William Wordsworth had all expectantly gone to hear him.

426   Michael McClymond The much-derided Edward Irving would hardly have seemed to contemporaries like the harbinger of the new charismatic Presbyterianism that emerged during the twentieth century. Yet he was. Just as significant is that the “Irvingite” movement he launched was in many ways the inaugural—or least the best-known and best-documented—charismatic renewal movement occurring anywhere in Christendom between the second-century Montanists and the start of twentieth-century Pentecostalism. And it occurred not in some obscure corner of the globe but in a fashionable neighborhood of London, at that time the world’s foremost metropolis. In the mid-twentieth century, numerous Presbyterian leaders adopted a remarkably different attitude toward Pentecostal phenomena than their nineteenth-century forbears had held toward Irving. The British missionary to India, missiologist, and theologian Lesslie Newbigin, who was ordained in the Church of Scotland, argued in The Household of God (1953) for the enduring and global significance of Pentecostalism. Newbigin answered the question, “Where is the church?” neither solely in terms of doctrine (wherever the pure word is preached and rightly understood) nor simply by appealing to a given structure (wherever a continuation of the apostolate is claimed) but rather in terms of wherever “the Holy Spirit [is] recognizably present with power.”2 Newbigin urged mainline Protestants to recognize that Pentecostal teaching had “a revolutionary element which could be dangerously subversive to our existing ways of thought,” but he insisted that both groups could learn much from each other.3 Liberal Presbyterian Henry P. Van Dusen, president of Union Theological Seminary in New York City, a widely traveled ecumenist, also expressed appreciation for Pentecostalism. In 1958, he referred to Pentecostalism as a “third force” in global Christianity and “the most extra-ordinary religious phenomenon of our time.” Van Dusen added: “Until lately, other Protestants regarded the movement as a temporary and passing phenomenon.” Now, however, many recognized “its true dimension and probable permanence” and showed “a chastened readiness to investigate the secrets of its mighty sweep.”4 In 1964, Van Dusen asserted that “the Pentecostal movement with its emphasis on the Holy Spirit is more than just another revival.” It was a “revolution” comparable to “the establishment of the original church” and “the Protestant Reformation.”5 John Mackay, a Presbyterian missionary to Latin America and president of Princeton Theological Seminary, regarded Pentecostalism as a genuine rediscovery of the role of the Holy Spirit in Christian experience, and commented that “uncouth life is better than aesthetic death.”6 The Dutch thinker Hendrikus Berkhof wrote that “the work of the Spirit is not exhausted in justification and sanctification; an additional working is promised and must therefore be sought.” Pentecostals, he added, “are basically right” in affirming “a working of the Holy Spirit beyond that which is acknowledged in the major denominations.”7 Newbigin, Van Dusen, and Mackay were globally minded persons who had lived or traveled extensively outside Western countries. From the 1950s to the present, opposition to Pentecostal Christianity has been concentrated among conservative and confessionally oriented Calvinists.

Presbyterians and the Global Charismatic Movements   427

“New Light” Presbyterians? Discussions of Presbyterian or Reformed Christianity and Pentecostalism have often focused on “cessationism” and centered on the query, Have the spiritual gifts (Greek. charismata) mentioned in the New Testament “ceased” to function since the church’s first centuries? A different picture emerges, however, if one asks, What broad role does the Holy Spirit play in Calvinist-Reformed-Presbyterian doctrine and experience? Answers to the second question yield a glass-half-full sort of answer. Princeton theologian Benjamin B. Warfield referred to John Calvin as the “theologian of the Holy Spirit,” and other Calvin scholars have concurred. The doctrine of the inner witness or “testimony of the Holy Spirit” may be Calvin’s most distinctive contribution to the doctrine of scripture. Calvin in fact viewed the entire Christian life from the standpoint of participation in the Holy Spirit. This element of experientialism in Calvin’s writings laid a foundation for the later development of Reformed Pietism, which preceded the better-known manifestations of Lutheran pietism. Puritan John Owen (1616–1683) wrote extensively about the Holy Spirit in his Pneumatologia (1693). “Nowhere,” John Hesselink claims, “has there been greater interest in and study of the work of the Spirit than in the Reformed tradition.”8 Presbyterianism, therefore, is an experiential or Spirit-based tradition, not simply a doctrinal or Word-based tradition. The appearance of charismatic phenomena among Presbyterians—first in the 1830s in Scotland and London, and then globally from the 1960s onward—could be regarded as the fulfillment of certain elements in Calvinist theology and spirituality. Although some Presbyterians have been “Old Lights” and opposed to revivalism from the eighteenth century onward, an equally prominent group were “New Lights,” whose interest in the Holy Spirit was not merely theological but found practical expression. Among them was William Tennent, his son Gilbert, and other Presbyterians associated with the Log College, which functioned as a precursor to the College of New Jersey (later Princeton University). The most renowned eighteenth-century revivalist, George Whitefield, was an Anglican but theologically a five-point Calvinist. The most important interpreter of spiritual awakenings of all time was Jonathan Edwards, who began his pastoral career as a Presbyterian minister in New York City, and ended his life by serving Presbyterians as the president of Princeton. Prominent revivalist Charles Finney began his evangelistic efforts in the 1830s with the backing of Presbyterian churches in western New York state. Asahel Nettleton took issue with Finney’s methods, and pursued a more confessionally orthodox version of Calvinist revivalism. America’s best-known revivalist in the early 1900s was a Presbyterian, the flamboyant Billy Sunday. Billy Graham was reared in the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church. Therefore, the image of Presbyterians as rejecting religious exuberance—as “God’s frozen chosen”—is erroneous. Vinson Synan contends that “Christians in the Presbyterian and Reformed tradition have often been pioneers in movements of the Holy Spirit.”9 Presbyterian

428   Michael McClymond history in sub-Saharan Africa, Korea, and Brazil gives even more reason for viewing Presbyterians as supporters of revivalism

Calvinist Cessationists versus the Scottish Reformers Until the Protestant Reformation, virtually no Christians in postbiblical times challenged the reality of miraculous healings and other charismatic phenomena. Yet during the modern era both conservative and liberal Protestants—for rather different reasons— questioned whether miracles had occurred modern church history. Major thinkers in the Reformed tradition—including Calvin, Edwards, and. Warfield—criticized the notion that charismatic gifts continued after the second or third century. Calvin argued that miracles generally ceased in the first or second generation after Jesus died. Admitting that miracles had occurred in postbiblical times gave potential support to modern miracles that allegedly confirmed the claims of the Roman Catholic Church. Miracles, wrote Calvin, have vanished “to make the new preaching of the gospel marvelous forever.” Calvin argued that God heals people’s “weaknesses as often as necessary” but that this “was a temporary gift.”10 Later thinkers drew on Calvin’s reference to healing as a “temporary gift” and developed what became, by the nineteenth century, a stronger “cessationist” position than sixteenth- and seventeenth-century Reformed authors had held. The greatest American Calvinist, Jonathan Edwards, was slightly more open than Calvin to the possibility of charismatic gifts in the modern era. Edwards believed that a period of amazing spiritual vitality would precede Christ’s second coming. Nonetheless, Edwards wrote, “The glory of the approaching happy state of the church don’t at all require these extraordinary gifts.” He added that he did not “expect” or “desire” any “restoration of these miraculous gifts.” “It would add nothing to the glory of those times, but rather diminish from it.”11 By the late 1800s and early 1900s, the cessationist position had its greatest strength among Presbyterians, as indicated by Warfield’s Counterfeit Miracles (1918). Warfield not only opposed Catholic claims to saints performing miracles, but also the emerging “faith” healing movement. He dismissed reports of having witnessed miracles by second-century Christian authors as being insufficiently detailed and thus not credible.12 Cessationism continues today among some confessional Protestants—Lutheran and Reformed—who are generally quite critical of Pentecostalism. Cessationists affirm the genuineness of miracles in biblical times, yet deny the reality of all (or nearly all) postbiblical miracles. Once all the New Testament books had been written, toward the end of the first century, they functioned as a comprehensive guide, and miraculous events were not needed to authenticate the ministry of Jesus and the apostles.

Presbyterians and the Global Charismatic Movements   429 For  cessationists, the Bible itself—not tongues-speaking, prophecy, or healing—is the great miracle evoking faith. One challenge to cessationism comes from an unlikely source—Scottish church history. Accounts of the “Scots worthies” published prior to the nineteenth-century attributed miracle-working powers to these Presbyterians. George Wishart, a mentor to John Knox, wrote about him: “He was so clearly illuminated with the spirit of prophecy that he saw not only things pertaining to himself, but also such things as some towns and the whole realm afterward felt,” which he shared publicly.13 Wishart’s Protestant preaching earned him the enmity of David Beaton, Cardinal of St. Andrews, Scotland. When he was about to die as a Protestant martyr, Wishart predicted Beaton’s speedy death.14 Four months later, Cardinal Beaton was murdered, and his body was hung from the window Wishart had indicated, which fellow Presbyterians viewed as the tangible fulfillment of a miraculous prediction. Like Wishart, John Welsh, a sixteenthcentury Scottish Presbyterian, reportedly predicted future events; he also restored the health or life of Lord Ochiltry’s sick son to the “great astonishment” of everyone.15 Through the prayer ministry of prominent Edinburgh Presbyterian Robert Bruce, insane and epileptic persons were allegedly healed. An early biography of Bruce reports that he saw angels, heard the audible voice of God, witnessed the outpouring of the Holy Spirit in his preaching ministry, and accurately predicted many events.16 Nineteenth-century biographies of these Scottish Reformers expunged the supernaturalist language and episodes found in earlier versions. A 1775 account of George Wishart’s life declared that “he possessed the spirit of prophecy in an extraordinary degree”; an 1846 edition, simply stated, “He possessed an extraordinary degree of sagacious foresight.”17 Nineteenth-century and more recent editions downplayed the charismatic elements in Scottish Presbyterian history. The adoption of strict cessationism thus may not have occurred in Calvin’s day, as is generally asserted, but rather during the nineteenth century, with its fixation on science, technology, and the explanatory power of natural law.

“Renewed” Presbyterianism in Korea, Cameroon, and Brazil After the outbreak of tongues-speaking, the healing of the sick, and purported prophetic utterance in Scotland and London in the 1830s in connection with the “Irvingite” movement, the next major Presbyterian episode involving charismatic gifts occurred in Korea, beginning in 1907. Beginning among Korean Methodists in Wonsan in 1903, the so-called Korean Great Revival reached its climax in 1907 in Pyongyang (today’s North Korean capital), principally among Presbyterians and in a school that was jointly operated by the Methodist and Presbyterian congregations. In January 1907 in Pyongyang,

430   Michael McClymond missionary Graham Lee gave a short sermon and called for prayer. He found such a stirring among the 1,500 worshippers that he urged them to pray aloud simultaneously. An eyewitness explained: Man after man would rise, confess his sin, break down and weep, and then throw himself on the floor and beat the floor with his fists in a perfect agony of conviction. Sometimes, after a confession, the whole audience would break out into audible prayer, and the effect of that audience of hundreds of men praying together was something indescribable.

Another eyewitness expressed astonishment at people’s confession of theft, adultery, rape, and murder: Every sin a human being can commit was publicly confessed that night. Pale and trembling with emotion, in agony of mind and body, guilty souls, standing in the white light of their judgment, saw themselves as God saw them . . . . They smote themselves and cried out with bitter wailing, “Lord, Lord cast us not away forever!” Everything else was forgotten, nothing else mattered . . . . [W]hen the Spirit of God calls upon guilty souls, there will be confession, and no power on earth can stop it.18

Before 1907, Korea had entered a political time of troubles, as Japanese troops arrived, and Koreans endured the opening phases of a decades-long occupation. During this period, recently converted Koreans began studying the scripture, especially Acts, with new eyes. Many native Christians and missionaries desired the Holy Spirit to be manifested with power. As Koreans read the story of Pentecost they wondered “whether the presence of the Spirit might not be manifested in Korea with power like that described in the Apostolic days.”19 Kil Sun Ju (1869–1935) questioned the cessationist position that Presbyterian missionaries had taught him. In Malsehak (Teaching of the End Times), Kil argued that miracles continued throughout the Christian age. During his ministry, from 1907 to 1935, Kil preached some twenty thousand times, personally addressing almost four million people, established sixty churches, and spread his message. The miracles that Kil preached as possible, the Korean revivalist, Ik-doo Kim (1894–1950) demonstrated as actual. The center of Kim’s revival was a healing ministry through prayer. During a 1919 revival meeting in Pyungham province, Kim was inspired by Mark 16:17: “And these since will accompany those who believe.” After a month of ardent prayer, Kim laid on hands and prayed for a paralytic man, who was quickly healed. Kim’s ministry reportedly brought sight to the blind, speech to the dumb, and healing to the paralyzed and hemorrhaging. Daily newspapers described Kim’s meetings, which were attended by thousands. “The most impressive feature of Kim’s revival movement was that he preached” among “who were neglected and were suffering from poverty and disease.”20 The reports of some ten thousand people had been healed through Kim’s ministry led pastors and elders from Hwang-hae Presbytery to form a panel to investigate and, if possible, to verify, the claimed miracles. After establishing the genuineness of the

Presbyterians and the Global Charismatic Movements   431 reported healings, the panel published, in 1921, a work called “The Miracle Verification.” This prompted the Korean Presbyterian Church council to change one of its by-laws, which read “there are no miracles in the post-apostolic age,” to read “there are miracles.” Under indigenous Korean leadership, Korean Presbyterianism officially renounced its former cessationist position.21 Charismatic forms of Presbyterianism have also been in evidence in Cameroon. From the 1970s onward, the Presbyterian Church of Cameroon (PCC) underwent what might be called “Pentecostalization.” Zacharias Fomum began preaching a revival message in the PCC in the 1970s, which led to schism, because Fomum began rebaptizing Presbyterians who had been baptized by sprinkling, insisting that immersion was required for salvation.22 During the late 1980s and the 1990s, Michael Bame sought to alter PCC services to stem the flow of members who were leaving to join Pentecostal churches. Bame exhorted his hearers to undergo the baptism in the Holy Spirit. His services featured speaking in tongues, loud prayers, clapping, and dancing, in contrast to the PCC’s staid and formal style. He also appeared in church barefoot, wearing a long white gown. Critics noted that it was women almost exclusively, and the same women, who received the power of the Holy Spirit at every service. Bame’s opponents accused him of Pentecostalizing the church without permission, but Bame countered that he had informed church authorities about his congregation’s activities doing. PCC authorities reportedly told Bame that what he was doing was in accord with Scripture but was not in accord with PCC practice (an argument like that posed by the Church of Scotland against Edward Irving during the 1830s). Bame replied that people needed to experience the healing power of the Holy Spirit and that praying for people who were suffering, was his job as pastor. Bame went more than year without salary because of the opposition of church authorities to his practices.23 The political democratization in Cameroon occurring at the same time as Bame’s revivalism involved “two processes—democratisation and pentecostalisation—[that] overlapped and were clearly linked.” Ultimately, the PCC accepted Pentecostal elements, as long they did not split congregations, and it did reject Fomum’s call for the rebaptism of those baptized in infancy.24 In Brazil, Igreja Presbiteriana Renovada do Brasil, which was founded in 1975, was an expression of Pentecostalized Presbyterianism. In 2012, the denomination had about 140,000 members in 778 congregations, and more than 803 pastors in 53 presbyteries. These congregations have a Presbyterian church government, with elders and deacons forming the session, and a General Assembly as its highest governing body. The communion practices infant baptism, adheres to the Westminster Confession of Faith, and operates two seminaries. Its understanding of the spiritual gifts has been strongly influenced by Brazilian Pentecostalism.

Charismatic Renewal in North America and Around the Globe: From the 1960s Onward In the United States and Canada, the emergence of spiritual gifts among Presbyterians came at the late 1950s. James Brown, a Presbyterian pastor in Parkesburg—a Philadelphia

432   Michael McClymond suburb—experienced a Pentecostal-type “baptism of the Holy Spirit” in 1957 and was puzzled about what he should do, but he heeded the advice of a Pentecostal Christian to “stay in your church and renew it.”25 Brown preserved Sunday morning worship in its traditional format, but he added an informal Saturday evening worship service that was charismatic in flavor. For some twenty years, this strategy functioned effectively. Brown did this prior to the better-known charismatic “coming out” of Episcopal minister Dennis Bennett in 1960. In 1966, Brown and four other ministers formed the Charismatic Communion of Presbyterian Ministers, which in order to include laypersons, later changed its name to the Presbyterian Charismatic Communion. It was the first charismatic organization formed in a mainline American denomination. Within a year, 125 ministers became members, and soon hundreds of Presbyterian laypersons joined.26 “Brick” Bradford explained that the movement was bringing great blessings to staid and sedate Presbyterians and described their experiences of “great joy, amazing peace, abounding joy, holy laughter, praying and praising in tongues, prophecy, healing, or some other gift, electrical or tingling sensations, and [bodily] warmth.”27 A landmark case soon tested the place of the charismatic renewal in what was then called the United Presbyterian Church in the United States (UPCUSA) (now the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), or PC(USA). Robert Whitaker, pastor of the  First Presbyterian Church in Chandler, Arizona, had his first charismatic experience in 1962, and by 1967, a group of dissenting elders in his church persuaded the Presbytery of Phoenix to launch an investigation into Whitaker’s ministry and into the place of the gifts of the Holy Spirit in the Presbyterian tradition. When Whitaker refused to pledge to stop speaking in tongues, he was removed as pastor. Whitaker appealed to the Synod of Arizona, claiming that the verdict was contrary to scripture and violated his right of conscience as stipulated in the Presbyterian Book of Order. In 1968, the Permanent Judicial Commission of the General Assembly ruled in Whitaker’s favor, protecting every Presbyterian minister from being removed from his or her position because of involvement in charismatic ministry. One side effect of this case was to push Presbyterians to study the charismatic gifts, which culminated in a report, The Work of the Holy Spirit (1970), which was one of the most important Protestant statements during the 1960s and 1970s charismatic renewal. The report found a lack of biblical evidence to support a baptism of the Spirit subsequent to the indwelling of the Spirit at conversion. Yet it left open the possibility of contemporary expressions of various kinds of charismatic gifts. By adopting this document, the UPCUSA took a cautiously open stance toward the charismatic movement, encouraging its members to be tolerant of one another and not to discourage new or unfamiliar experiences, but always to use discernment in appraising spiritual phenomena. Today, there are an estimated 250,000 American Presbyterian and Reformed charismatics. Some 3,500 are members of the Presbyterian and Reformed Renewal Ministries International, which operates in forty-two nations.28 After the pioneering UPCUSA report in 1970, many other Reformed denominations around the world commissioned their own studies. The three-volume collection,

Presbyterians and the Global Charismatic Movements   433 Presence, Power, and Praise (1980), includes among its documents reports from Presbyterian and Reformed church bodies in the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa. Most of them  followed the UPCUSA precedent of cautious acceptance of the charismatic renewal. Yet some documents expressed concern that the exercise of the spiritual gifts was being turned into the be-all and end-all of the Christian life, creating an unfortunate two-tier system in congregations of those who claimed to exercise the gifts and those who did not. Among confessional Presbyterians in the United States and elsewhere, ambivalence or hostility to the charismatic movement has remained. Theologian R. C. Sproul described his own brush with the 1960s charismatic renewal: “I sought the gift and soon was able to join my friends in praying in tongues. But I found no great edification from it.” “I heard manifestly false doctrine,” he added, “being urged upon people via tongues interpretations. Extravagant claims of miracles that I was able to investigate proved to be unfounded.” Unfortunately, “people were seeking to live the Christian life on the basis of subjective feelings rather than on the Word.” Sproul concluded that “I am very concerned about the false doctrine” the charismatic movement “has brought in its wake.” Scottish theologian Sinclair Ferguson affirmed cessationism in 2017. Charismatic gifts, he wrote, “were given spasmodically in biblical history. Their occurrence is generally contained within a handful of time periods lasting around a generation each. The function of these gifts, namely to convey and to confirm revelation,” has “ceased until Christ’s return.” Ferguson comments, “For many people, it feels much more authoritative to be able to say, ‘God has revealed this to me’ than to say, ‘The Bible tells me so.’” The problem is that “direct revelation relieves us of the need for painstaking Bible study and careful consideration of Christian doctrine in order to know the will of God.”29

Conclusion In the new millennium, most Presbyterian thinkers and leaders seem to accept ­charismatic gifts as a legitimate contemporary phenomenon. This does not mean that twenty-first-century Presbyterians are ready to endorse everything that is happening in Pentecostal and charismatic circles, including prosperity theology, flamboyant preaching, angelic encounters, and other paranormal experiences. It does mean that many have expressed doubts about the “traditional”—as noted, it only began only in the nineteenthcentury—cessationist position. Calvinistic Baptist John Piper speaks today of a “New Calvinism” that is pro-revivalistic and open to both charismatics and noncharismatics. Since Piper appeals to and speaks for many confessional Presbyterians around the world, this suggests that fewer Presbyterians are likely to take the strict cessationist position, and more are likely to adopt a cautiously open position (as did the UPCUSA in 1970). Among mainline Presbyterians, the diminishment of the charismatic presence

434   Michael McClymond since the 1980s has much to do with theological and ethical conflicts over the authority of the Bible, the ordination of women, and the status of LGBT persons. Many strongly Bible-oriented, charismatic Presbyterians have left congregations they believed were flouting some essential tenet of biblical teaching. Presbyterians charismatics are more open to novel experiences than other Presbyterians, but they typically differ from other charismatics by being more cautious. As a “Reformed Charismatic” Sam Hamstra explains, “I can’t limit the Spirit by putting the Spirit in a box,” but “I am a sinning saint who still wrestles with sin. Hence, I don’t trust the voice within me.”30 Self-distrust and recognition of the innate human tendency toward self-flattery and self-deception is a feature of Presbyterian charismatics. Where other charismatics may jump in with both feet, Presbyterian charismatics are likely to consult the Bible and to “test the spirits” (1 John 4:1–4). Some argue that Presbyterianism is not only compatible with the practice of charismatic gifts but is complementary to them too. Presbyterian Christianity “needs” a deeper apprehension and experience of the Spirit, and charismatic Christianity “needs” the caution and balance supplied by Reformed or Presbyterian theology. Strikingly, the first charismatic ministers’ fellowship was organized among American Presbyterians rather than Baptists or Methodists. One might have anticipated that these other traditions would have been more receptive than Presbyterianism. James K. A. Smith, a philosopher professor at Calvin College, claims that “my being Pentecostal is actually a way for me to be more Reformed.”31 In Thinking in Tongues (2010), Smith argues that “the tangible, visceral, emotional nature of pentecostal spirituality works as a pedagogy of the affects, an education of the emotions, priming disciples to precognitively construe the world of their experience.” This Pentecostal construal of the world involves an ontology “of radical openness and thus resistance to closed, immanentist systems” of naturalism.32 Pentecostalism functions as an antinaturalist and antisecular resistance movement, which helps to explain why it is the only form of Christianity that is currently growing in such secular regions as Western Europe. Swiss Reformed Walter Hollenweger, who was generally regarded as the world’s leading scholar of Pentecostalism during the twentieth century, dedicated his major book “To my friends and teachers in the Pentecostal Movement who taught me to love the Bible, and to my teachers and friends in the Presbyterian Church who taught me to understand it.”33 These phrases summarize why it might be worthwhile for Presbyterians to be charismatics as well: the people of God ought to love and understand God and to understand as well as love the Bible.

Notes 1. Gordon Strachan, The Pentecostal Theology of Edward Irving (1973; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1988), 1. 2. Lesslie Newbigin, The Household of God (London: SCM Press, 1953), 95. 3. Newbigin, Household of God, 106.

Presbyterians and the Global Charismatic Movements   435 4. Henry P. Van Dusen, “The Third Force in Christendom,” Life, June 6, 1958, 124. 5. Van Dusen, quoted in John L. Sherrill, They Speak with Other Tongues (Old Tappan, NJ: Fleming H. Revell, 1964), 27. 6. John Alexander Mackay, Ecumenics: The Science of the Church Universal (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1964), 198. 7. Hendrikus Berkhof, The Doctrine of the Holy Spirit (Atlanta, GA: John Knox, 1964), 87. 8. I. John Hesselink, “The Charismatic Movement and the Reformed Tradition,” Reformed Review 28 (1975): 152. 9. Vinson Synan, “Presbyterian and Reformed Charismatics,” in New International Dictionary of Pentecostal and Charismatic Movements, ed. Stanley Burgess and Eduard M. Van der Maas (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2003), 995. Pentecostalism itself has both Wesleyan roots and Reformed roots. See William  W.  Menzies, “The Reformed Roots of Pentecostalism,” PentecoStudies 6 (2007): 78–99. 10. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John  T.  McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 4.19.18–19. 11. Jonathan Edwards, The Works of Jonathan Edwards, 73 vols. (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1957–2011), 4:280–281. 12. See B.  B.  Warfield, Counterfeit Miracles (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1918), esp. 5–31; and John Ruthven, On the Cessation of the Charismata: The Protestant Polemic on Postbiblical Miracles (Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993). 13. Cited in Jack Deere, Surprised by the Voice of God: How God Speaks Today through Prophecies, Dreams, and Visions (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996), 70. 14. Robert Fleming, The Fulfilling of the Scripture, 2 vols. (Glasgow: Stephen Young, 1801), 2:302. 15. John Howie, Biographia Scoticana, or a Brief Historical Account of the . . . Scots Worthies (Glasgow: John Bryce, 1775), 115, 127–128. 16. Deere, Surprised, 76. 17. Deere, 79. 18. Cited in Young-hoon Lee, The Holy Spirit Movement in Korea: Its Historical and Theological Development (Oxford, UK: Regnum, 2009), 28. 19. Cited Sung-Deuk Oak, ed., Primary Sources of the Korean Great Revival, 1903–1908 (Seoul: Institute for Korean Church History, 2007), 428. 20. Lee, Holy Spirit Movement, 47. 21. Lee, 45–46. 22. Akoko Robert Mbe, “‘You Must Be Born Again’: The Pentecostalisation of the Presbyterian Church in Cameroon,” Journal of Contemporary African Studies 25 (2007): 303. 23. Mbe, “You Must Be Born Again,” 304–306. 24. Mbe, 307, 311. 25. Synan, “Presbyterian and Reformed Charismatics,” 996, citing the words of David du Plessis. 2 6. Synan, 996. 27. Brick Bradford, Releasing the Power of the Holy Spirit (Oklahoma City: Presbyterian Charismatic Communion, 1983), 25–26. 28. Synan, “Presbyterian and Reformed Charismatics,” 996–997. 29. R. C. Sproul, “Zeal without Knowledge,” Ligonier Ministries, April 1, 2002. https://www. ligonier.org/learn/articles/zeal-without-knowledge/; and Sinclair Ferguson, “The Holy Spirit’s Ministry,” Ligonier Ministries, November 1, 2017, https://www.ligonier.org/blog/ holy-spirits-ministry/.

436   Michael McClymond 30. Sam Hamstra, “What Is a Reformed Charismatic?,” Network (blog), Christian Reformed Church of North America, August 25, 2011, https://network.crcna.org/blog/what-reformedcharismatic. 31. James K. A. Smith, “Teaching a Calvinist to Dance,” Christianity Today 52 (May 2008): 42. 32. James K. A. Smith, Thinking in Tongues: Pentecostal Contributions to Christian Philosophy (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2010), 80, 88. 33. W.  J.  Hollenweger, The Pentecostals: The Charismatic Movement in the Churches (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg, 1972), xvi.

Bibliography Berkhof, Hendrikus. The Doctrine of the Holy Spirit. Atlanta, GA: John Knox, 1964 Bradford, Brick. Releasing the Power of the Holy Spirit. Oklahoma City: Presbyterian Charismatic Communion, 1983. Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960. Dallimore, Arnold. Forerunner of the Charismatic Movement: The Life of Edward Irving. Chicago: Moody Press, 1983. Deere, Jack. Surprised by the Voice of God: How God Speaks Today through Prophecies, Dreams, and Visions. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1996. Ferguson, Sinclair. “The Holy Spirit’s Ministry.” Ligonier Ministries, November 1, 2017. https:// www.ligonier.org/blog/holy-spirits-ministry/. Hamstra, Sam. “What Is a Reformed Charismatic?,” Network (blog), Christian Reformed Church of North America, January 10, 2019, https://network.crcna.org/blog/whatreformed-charismatic. Hesselink, I.  John. “The Charismatic Movement and the Reformed Tradition,” Reformed Review 28 (Spring 1975): 147–56. Hollenweger, W. J. The Pentecostals: The Charismatic Movement in the Churches. Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg, 1972. Lee, Young-hoon. The Holy Spirit Movement in Korea: Its Historical and Theological Development. Oxford, UK: Regnum, 2009. Mackay, John Alexander. Ecumenics: The Science of the Church Universal. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1964. Mbe, Akoko Robert. “ ‘You Must Be Born Again’: The Pentecostalisation of the Presbyterian Church in Cameroon.” Journal of Contemporary African Studies 25 (2007): 299–315. McClymond, Michael J., ed., Encyclopedia of Religious Revivals in America. 2 vols. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press, 2007. McDonnell, Kilian. Presence, Power, and Praise: Documents on the Charismatic Renewal. 3 vols. Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 1980. Menzies, William  W. “The Reformed Roots of Pentecostalism.” PentecoStudies 6 (2007): 78–99. Newbigin, Lesslie. The Household of God: Lectures on the Nature of the Church. London: SCM Press, 1953. Ruthven, John. On the Cessation of the Charismata: The Protestant Polemic on Postbiblical Miracles. Sheffield, UK: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993.

Presbyterians and the Global Charismatic Movements   437 Smith, James  K.  A. Thinking in Tongues: Pentecostal Contributions to Christian Philosophy. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2010. Sproul, R. C. “Zeal without Knowledge.” Ligonier Ministries. https://www.ligonier.org/learn/ articles/zeal-without-knowledge/. Strachan, Gordon. The Pentecostal Theology of Edward Irving (1973). Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 1988. Synan, Vinson. “Presbyterian and Reformed Charismatics.” In New International Dictionary of Pentecostal and Charismatic Movements, edited by Stanley Burgess and Eduard M. Van der Maas, 995–997. Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2003. Van Dusen, Henry P. “The Third Force in Christendom,” Life, June 6, 1958, 113–124. Warfield, B. B. Counterfeit Miracles. New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1918.

chapter 27

Pr esby ter i a ns, R eligious Di v ersit y, a n d Wor ld R eligions Martha L. Moore-Keish

Introduction To explore Presbyterian views of “religion” and religious diversity in our world, we must begin with a few caveats. First, Presbyterian lived experience has changed significantly since its earliest days. Contemporary Presbyterians, whether in Korea or Kenya, the United States or Ghana, Scotland or Brazil, live amid great religious pluralism. Today’s Christians interact daily with people who are Muslim, Buddhist, practitioners of indigenous religious traditions, or express no religious tradition at all. By contrast, sixteenth-century European Reformers knew little about other religions except Judaism. Second, the term “religion” itself has changed over the past five hundred years. In the sixteenth century, “religion” had newly emerged as a concept that involved personal choice and as a sphere of life distinct from “secular.” For the earliest Presbyterians, the term signified both right worship and right understanding of God, and they used it primarily to emphasize the pure form of the Christian religion they sought to embody, contrasted with the “superstitious and false religion” of the Catholic Church. So, for instance, the Scots Confession (1560) says, “The preservation and purification of religion is particularly the duty of kings, princes, rulers, and magistrates. They are not only appointed for civil government but also to maintain true religion and to suppress all idolatry and superstition.”1 Such Protestant-Catholic polemic exerted subtle influence on Presbyterian reflection on religion and religious diversity for centuries, and we must beware its lingering effects in any discussion of religion today. A third caveat is that the borders of Presbyterianism are porous. Some of the most important sources for thinking about “Presbyterian” responses to religious pluralism include theologians who are not Presbyterian (e.g., John Calvin, Karl Barth, and Stanley

440   martha l. moore-keish Samartha), but who exercise great influence on the Reformed tradition of which Presbyterianism is a part. Furthermore, Presbyterian views on religious diversity are interwoven with other Christian theological interpretations, so broad developments in Presbyterian thinking on these matters have much in common with other Protestant, and increasingly also Catholic, theological reflections. Finally, Presbyterians, especially since the nineteenth century, have interpreted religious diversity in varied ways. Differing views on this issue often correlate with other differences among Presbyterians regarding interpretation of Scripture, the nature of election, and the role of Jesus Christ. Recognition of this diversity of voices, together with the porousness of our borders, the significance of historical change, and the polemical origins of Presbyterian uses of “religion,” then, should inform any discussion of Presbyterian theology of religions. Although Presbyterian interpretations of religious diversity vary, the following theological themes tend to steer the conversations: • Sovereignty and freedom of God. Presbyterians since the sixteenth century have emphasized that “God alone” deserves our worship and allegiance. Sometimes this affirmation has prompted criticism of other religions as idolatry, focusing attention on pure worship of Christ alone as God’s unique intervention in history. At other times, the affirmation of God’s freedom has led to declaration that God can save whom God chooses, even apart from people’s explicit confession of faith in Christ. • The significance of Jesus Christ. Presbyterians have always affirmed Christ’s central saving role. This affirmation, however, has contributed to widely divergent interpretations of Christ’s significance for people who do not profess faith in him. Is explicit confession of faith in Jesus as Messiah necessary for one’s redemption? What does it mean for Jesus to be “Savior” in a world with other figures who bear that title, or with religions that have no concept of “salvation”? • The work of the Spirit. For John Calvin, who deeply influenced Presbyterianism, the Spirit is the active presence and power of God in the world, inspiring human wisdom, illuminating the reading of scriptures, implanting the gift of faith, and inflaming hearts with love for God. Though Presbyterians have not always expressed pneumatologies as rich as Calvin’s, in recent decades many writers have returned to the topic of the Spirit in relation to human religions. Is the Spirit at work only within Christianity, or does God’s Spirit also move in and through other human religions? If so, how does the Spirit move, and how do we discern its movement? • The nature of revelation. Presbyterians have long affirmed that God alone is the source of wisdom in the world, revealing it when and to whom God chooses. However, is there any “general revelation” that God has offered to all people, which would enable non-Christians to know God? Might God offer other specific instances of revelation in addition to God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ? If so, how do we discern this?

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   441 • The role of scripture. Since its earliest days, Presbyterians have appealed to the scriptures of the Old and New Testaments as being “the most complete exposition of all that pertains to a saving faith, and also to the framing of a life acceptable to God.”2 Biblical texts have thus figured significantly in Presbyterian discussions of religious diversity in the world. The diversity of biblical witness, however, has contributed to the diversity of theological interpretations. Should interpreters focus on the exclusive claims of passages such as Acts 4:12 (“There is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among mortals by which we must be saved”), or the priority of ethical action in passages such as Matthew 25:31–46 (“just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me”)? Do we look for points of contact with other religions, as Paul did on the Areopagus in Acts 17, or focus on the idolatry of “shrines made with human hands” in the same passage? How do we interpret these texts, and how do we hold their differing perspectives together? • The church. Early Presbyterians affirmed the church as the elect of God, the body of Christ, and the external means by which the Spirit binds us to Christ in communion with God and one another. In the past century, however, Presbyterians have reflected in various ways about the role of the church in a world of many religions. What is the relationship between the church and the coming reign of God? Should the church seek to incorporate all life into itself as the best embodiment of the reign of God, or is the church called to witness to the reign of God in the world even outside the church itself? Might the “invisible church” include followers of other religious paths, or would this overshadow the particularity of other religious traditions, as well as our own? These questions will frame this examination of the five centuries of Presbyterianism, showing how Presbyterians have engaged with and interpreted the changing world of religious diversity.

The Sixteenth Century As noted, sixteenth-century European Presbyterians knew little about religious traditions apart from Christianity. Some did have limited interaction with Jews, who were the persistent religious minority in the region. Presbyterians affirmed that God had established a covenant with the Jews through Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, a covenant extended to Gentiles with the coming of Jesus Christ, so that the two peoples were now a single fellowship “in the one Messiah.”3 They had little to say, however, about the Jewish community after Jesus. Like earlier Christians, when they did speak about contemporary Jews, sixteenth-century Presbyterians usually criticized the Jewish community for willfully rejecting God’s will, and they often held the Jews responsible for the death of Jesus.4

442   martha l. moore-keish In addition, early Presbyterians were aware of Muslims, primarily because of the history of the Crusades and the rise of the Ottoman Empire in the fourteenth century, which led to the fall of Constantinople in 1453 and the end of the (Christian) Byzantine Empire. For early modern European Christians, Muslims were powerful military and political rivals who threatened Christian Europe. They generally portrayed Muslims as hostile and idolatrous, and they sometimes denounced their rejection of trinitarian doctrine.5 Overall, early Presbyterians tended to dismiss non-Christians as being outside the realm of God’s electing grace. Protestant emphasis on grace alone, faith alone, scripture alone, and Christ alone contributed to a largely negative view of all other religious traditions, especially the “false religion” of the Catholic Church. Guided by the opening chapters of the book of Romans, Reformed Protestants emphasized that even though God had revealed truth plainly to all people, all had willfully turned away, worshiping idols and indulging in immoral behavior. Only by the grace of Christ had some been rescued from this state and enabled to participate in “true religion.” As Calvin argued, “The heathen, to a man, by their own vanity either were dragged or slipped back into false inventions” and were therefore without excuse in their lack of knowledge of God.6 Despite this generally negative judgment of religions other than Protestant Christianity, Reformed and Presbyterian writers did affirm that God’s Spirit had worked in the minds and hearts of people outside the church, especially among scientists and philosophers, “that they might enlighten the world in knowledge of the truth.”7 Influenced by humanist scholarship, early Reformed theologians particularly favored Greek philosophy.

The Seventeenth Century The mid-seventeenth century saw the development of the Westminster Standards in England, which exercised great influence in the development of Presbyterianism. The Westminster Confession of Faith and Larger and Shorter Catechisms were approved by the English Parliament (which almost immediately rejected them), adopted by the Scottish Kirk in 1647, and traveled to New England with the Puritans and to the mid-Atlantic colonies with Scots-Irish Presbyterians. In 1729, in slightly amended form, they were adopted as the founding documents of the American Presbyterian church. Westminster’s approach to religions other than Protestant Christianity systematized and hardened sixteenth-century views. Jews were God’s covenant people under the covenant of grace until the coming of Christ, but the coming of Jesus marked a new dispensation. The Westminster Standards did not explicitly discuss the status of the current Jewish community, but they implied that the Jews were no longer part of “the elect.” In general, Westminster insists that true knowledge of God, or salvation, cannot exist apart from explicit faith in Jesus Christ.

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   443

The Eighteenth Century In the 1700s, most Presbyterians lived in Great Britain and in the American colonies (which became the United States in 1776). During this period, some Presbyterians continued to emphasize the purity of “true Reformed Presbyterian religion,” distinct from all other Christian denominations, let alone non-Christian traditions. Alexander Craighead, an American founder of the Reformed Presbyterian Church, conveyed this more conservative position in a 1743 sermon decrying the apostasy of all “Lutherians,” “Prelaticks,” and “Hereticks,” among others, and pledging to follow solely the true religion as summed up in the Westminster Standards.8 Other Presbyterians strongly defended religious liberty against the establishment of any particular religion. For instance, the Presbytery of Hanover in Virginia declared in 1776 that “there is no argument in favor of establishing the Christian religion, but what may be pleaded, with equal propriety, for establishing the tenets of Mohammed by those who believe the Alcoran.”9 The argument against establishment of religion sought the equal protection of all forms of religion under the law (even, at least in theory, Islam). This democratic spirit of American Presbyterianism sometimes led to recognition of shared convictions among different religions, usually connected to the idea of “natural religion.” For instance, pastor Samuel Davies argued in a 1758 sermon that the doctrine of divine providence is “essential both in natural and revealed religion; an article in the creed of heathens and Mahometans (as well as Jews and Christians).”10 Davies displays respect for the positive value of other religions because of their common theological ground. During the eighteenth century, American Presbyterians began missions to native Americans, which prompted reflection on the relationship of Christianity to indigenous religious traditions. David Brainerd, ordained by the presbytery of New York to be a missionary to the Delaware Indians, regarded his task as “conversion of the Heathen to God,” describing their feasts and dances as “idolatrous” and “pagan.”11 Unlike Davies, who recognized common ground on the doctrine of providence, Brainerd saw no significant commonalities between Christianity and the religious rituals of the Delaware.

The Nineteenth Century Evangelical fervor exploded in the United States and Europe in the early nineteenth century, inspiring missionary movements to bring the gospel to parts of the world where (it was assumed) it had not been preached. Many Presbyterians embraced these efforts in both “home” and “foreign” missions, increasing their awareness of the religious diversity

444   martha l. moore-keish of the world. Early missionaries usually assumed that (Protestant) Christianity was the only true and saving religion and that they must proclaim the gospel so that people could recognize and receive the grace of Christ through faith. They had little respect for non-Christian religious beliefs and practices. Missionary reports overflow with examples of Presbyterian judgment regarding other religions. Early Presbyterian missionaries to Korea judged most nationals as having no religion, because Confucianism was merely an ethical system, and shamanism was superstition. In China, missionary scholars deplored ancestor worship as superstition and bondage, directing people downward and backward rather than upward and forward.12 In North India, Presbyterians sought the conversion of Muslims through direct debate and polemical publications refuting the Qur’an.13 In Syria, the missionary James Shepard Dennis described Muslim prayer as “more like a class in calisthenics going through a manual, than like prayer to the Almighty.”14 The missionary goal was to convert people to true religion, not to discuss the preexisting religious commitments of those whom missionaries served. Early nineteenth-century American Presbyterianism was dominated by this view that Christianity is the one true religion, and that all other religions are simply false and need to be replaced. As the century progressed, however, even as some Presbyterians continued to hold this view, a second, more positive understanding of other religions also emerged. This was influenced by the theology of the German Friedrich Schleiermacher (1768–1834), who defined religion as the “feeling of absolute dependence” (rather than as based on Enlightenment reason). Christian religion focused on our absolute dependence on God made known in Jesus Christ. Such “feeling” is universal, not unique to Christianity. Even though Schleiermacher regarded Christianity as superior to other religions, he recognized valid religious experience in other traditions. In addition to affirming universal human religious sensibility, many Christians in the second half of the nineteenth century were strongly influenced by the emergence of an historical and evolutionary interpretation of religions, influenced by the thought of  Charles Darwin (1809–1882) and Ernst Troeltsch (1865–1923). This prepared the way for the social scientific study of religion, which is still prominent in the academic field of religious studies today. According to Troeltsch, religions are particular to their cultures, and are neither better nor worse than one another. All religious traditions are  both bearers of revelation and limited in their understanding. Building on this insight, many nineteenth-century religion scholars, such as Edward Burnett Tylor and James G. Frazer, described a natural evolutionary process of religion as a cultural institution that develops from more primitive to more sophisticated forms. This contributed both to interest in other religions and to a tendency to rank Christianity as the most advanced religion. The move from animism to polytheism to monotheism was assumed to be a natural progression, and Christianity was the crowning religious expression of humanity.15 This evolutionary view of history, with its emphasis on religious and social progress, deeply affected many Presbyterians, including missionaries. Non-Christian religions

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   445 were often seen as primitive and morally backward, while (Western, white) Christian missions were presented as the great social hope of nations, pointing humanity toward a redeemed future. For instance, Presbyterian missionaries Samuel  H.  Kellogg and Frank M. Ellinwood used evolutionary analysis in their influential books on comparative religions: Kellogg’s The Genesis and Growth of Religion (1892) and Ellinwood’s Oriental Religions and Christianity (1892). Missionaries especially emphasized that Christianity provided greater respect for women and established educational institutions to better their conditions. Non-Christian religions were also frequently criticized for promoting inadequate and “superstitious” healing practices, which helped to fuel the growth of Christian medical missions. Education and medical services from these missionary efforts have clearly improved the lives of millions of people around the world; their inception, however, was linked to white Western imperialistic judgments of non-Christian religions and cultures, a view summarized in what Rudyard Kipling later memorably called the “white man’s burden.” By the late nineteenth century, the progressive view of history, which emphasized the goodness of humanity, as well as God’s work in and through human cultures, led to greater appreciation of religious diversity and emphasis on the unity of humanity. This more “liberal” approach to religions led some Presbyterians to emphasize the commonalities between Christianity and other religions, which they viewed as preparation for the gospel. For instance, Dennis, working in Syria, observed a strong religious tendency among “the Arab race,” which he believed would naturally lead to their embracing Christianity if the people had religious freedom.16 Presbyterian missionaries in China published tracts that presented Christianity as compatible with Confucianism.17 In Korea, the name for God, “Hanǎnim,” was drawn from Korean folk religion but reinterpreted as the “One Great One.” Protestant missionaries saw a primitive monotheism as the origin of Korean religions, and suggested that Korea’s founders had worshiped the Christian God whom they called Hanǎnim. Christianity was thus seen a fulfillment of Korean religious aspirations.18 In the 1890s, the comparative study of religions began, and a “comparative theology” emerged that looked for common ground among various religious traditions. Presbyterians were divided on this development, which contributed to the fundamentalist-modernist controversy in the 1920s. Some Presbyterians, such as Ellinwood in Korea, resisted the move and argued that Christianity was superior to superstitious Korean polytheism and should replace it completely. Others, such as John Henry Barrows (1847–1902), enthusiastically endorsed openness to God’s work in other religious traditions. The 1893 the World’s Parliament of Religions in Chicago revealed this divide in Presbyterian attitudes toward “world religions,” particularly in the United States. In conjunction with the Chicago World’s Fair held that year, Barrows, the pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Chicago, helped plan a gathering of the leaders of the major world religions to share their views. Hindu, Buddhist, Muslim, Sikh, and other major religious leaders spoke to large crowds, marking the first time that many American Christians, including Presbyterians, had heard from representatives of these traditions.

446   martha l. moore-keish Barrows hoped that the meeting would move people to appreciate the “Fatherhood of God and the Brotherhood of Man,” countering the impression that religion is a source of conflict and instead inspiring greater mutual love and peace.19 In his introduction to the published proceedings of this conference, Barrows described religion as a universal positive tendency in all humanity: “Religion, like the white light of Heaven, has been broken into many-colored fragments by the prisms of men. One of the objects of the Parliament of Religions has been to change this many-colored radiance back into the white light of heavenly truth.”20 Many US Presbyterians attended, participated in, or served on the Advisory Council of the Parliament and applauded its aims. The Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church also approved its plans. Others disapproved, including the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, which in 1892 passed a resolution emphatically disapproving the Parliament before it convened.

The Twentieth and Twenty-First Centuries The nineteenth century saw significant growth in Presbyterianism beyond Europe and North America through the missionary movement, greatly increasing awareness of religious diversity among those in the global north. The twentieth century also witnessed ever-increasing mutual engagement of Presbyterians around the world, who interpreted religious diversity in a variety of ways. Their varied views of religious diversity can be summarized as follows: • (Protestant) Christianity represents true religion; all other religions are false (continuing the view that was prevalent in the sixteenth to eighteenth centuries). • Christianity is the fulfillment of human religions; other religions offer insights that prepare for the gospel (continuing the nineteenth-century progressive view of history). • All religions have insights that are equally valid, and adherents should learn from each other through interreligious dialogue and cooperation. • All religions, including Christianity, are problematic and need to be redeemed by grace. • Religious traditions, including Christianity, take shape in specific political, economic, gendered, and racialized contexts. Religions thus need to be engaged in their particularity, without making universalizing claims about religions in general. Some theologians combine two or more of these approaches. Together they represent major trajectories in Presbyterian engagement of religious diversity from 1900 to the present.

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   447 The first approach can be seen in a 1947 Free Presbyterian Church of Australia account of the nation’s aboriginal people: “In some cases there seems to have been, and still is, belief in a Supreme Being, creating in them fear and dread, but they know nothing of the love of God in Jesus Christ.”21 Aboriginal religion allegedly did not contribute anything helpful to the native Australian peoples; the love of God in Jesus Christ needed to be proclaimed in its place. Although the missionary movement began with the premise that Christianity should replace all other religions, the changed approach that began in the nineteenth century— from Western imperialism to mutual partnership—continued throughout the twentieth century. It was signaled by a shift in terminology in the mid-twentieth century, from “foreign mission” to “world mission” or “ecumenical mission.” As they re-envisioned their work, missionaries increasingly saw value in other religions and cultures and sought common ground rather than replacement, even if the ultimate goal was still the conversion of individuals who espoused other religions. For instance, Daniel Fleming, a missionary teaching at Forman Christian College in north India in the early twentieth century, sought to identify common ground with Muslims rather than engage in the polemical debate of earlier generations. In addition, he praised new publications from the National Missionary Society in India that sought to show the value of the Vedas and Upanishads and other sacred Hindu texts instead of condemning them. This view of God’s spirit at work among other religions led to respect for certain religious and cultural elements that could be integrated with Christianity. The fundamentalist-modernist controversy in 1920s and 1930s America sharpened the divide between Presbyterians who held more negative views of other religions and those who saw God working through religious diversity. This divide became particularly clear in the publication of and reaction to the 1932 ecumenical report, Re-thinking Missions: A Laymen’s Inquiry after 100 Years that analyzed missions in the Far East and made recommendations about their future. The report proposed that Christianity’s uniqueness “lay not in any particular historical or doctrinal claims but rather in its selection of truths available in all religions and in the simplicity of its central teachings. As such, the Christian faith, in the face of modern secularism, should make common cause with other world religions in the search for unified religious truth.”22 Some Presbyterians celebrated this conclusion; the missionary Pearl Buck, for instance, praised the report in Christian Century and argued that missions should continue to share Christ as the essence of goodness. Others disagreed. The Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions reaffirmed its commitment to “the evangelical basis of the missionary enterprise” and to “Jesus Christ as the only Lord and Savior.” Its head, Robert Speer, repudiated the report’s insufficient Christology, declaring, “For us, Christ is still the Way, not a way.” Although the PCUSA raised concerns about the report, J. Gresham Machen condemned the Presbyterian response as insufficient, and soon founded an independent board of foreign missions. This led to his trial and suspension from the PCUSA, after which he founded a new denomination in 1936: the Presbyterian Church of America (soon renamed the Orthodox Presbyterian Church), dedicated to “true evangelism.”23

448   martha l. moore-keish As conservative Presbyterians like Machen moved toward more “exclusivist” interpretations of religious diversity, other Presbyterians became increasingly aware that the evolutionary view of history, with its view that Christianity was the superior religion that included and fulfilled all that was good in other religions, was problematic. Christianity was beginning to disentangle itself from Western power, and Presbyterians, like other Christians, came to realize that the proclamation of the gospel had too often gone hand in hand with Western colonial power, imposing Western cultural values. As many new nation-states emerged from colonial rule in the mid-twentieth century, Christianity was sometimes rejected as the religion of the colonizer in favor of religions that were more closely identified with national identities. In India during the Gandhian movement of the 1920s, for instance, some worked to convert village Christians back to Hinduism, since Christianity was aligned with British colonial power (a perception that continues today). In other places, people adopted Christianity as a religious identity that opposed other alien powers. In Japanese-ruled Korea in 1930s, for instance, some Presbyterians refused to follow the Japanese order to worship at Shinto shrines, because it violated the first and second commandments.24 This resistance to Japanese rulers aligned Christianity more closely with the independent Korean identity. After the controversy, the Korean Presbyterian church split between those who participated in Shinto shrine worship and those who vigorously opposed it, a schism that became official in 1952. In the decades following these national independence movements, Christian theology (including Presbyterian theologies) began to take the particularity of cultural and historical contexts more seriously, emphasizing that there is no “pure religion” and arguing instead that all religion is interwoven with political, social, and economic factors. This rise of so-called contextual theologies in the 1960s and 1970s challenged many traditional Western theological assumptions, including of the superiority and uniqueness of Christianity as a religion. Presbyterian leaders around the world called for an “inculturation” of the gospel, which involved embracing a more positive view of cultural elements in contexts formerly seen as religiously primitive or “heathen.” Such efforts have included engaging with Maori culture in New Aotearoa (New Zealand), Native American and First Nations cultures in United States and Canada, classical Hindu and Buddhist savior narratives in India, and insights from African traditional religions, such as the relationship between the natural and supernatural worlds. It also included seeing God as the unifying power who owns all humans, a lack of either-or thinking, an emphasis on kinship bonds, and a practical religious orientation.25 In the 1960s and 1970s, many Presbyterians in North America and Europe increased their knowledge of and appreciation for other religious traditions, often moving toward the priority of interreligious dialogue and mutual learning, and away from efforts to convert religious others. The shift was partly due to changing immigration patterns that introduced greater cultural and religious diversity to the global north since the mid-1960s. Official documents and mission agencies from this time detail shifts in emphasis from conversion to Western Christian culture to a message of reconciliation and liberation.

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   449 For instance, the UPCUSA Confession of 1967 articulates emerging appreciation of cultural particularity, as well as the need to respect other religions: The church in its mission encounters the religions of men and in that encounter becomes conscious of its own human character as a religion. . . . The Christian finds parallels between other religions and his own and must approach all religions with openness and respect. Repeatedly God has used the insight of non-Christians to challenge the church to renewal.26

Beginning in the 1970s, theologians, most notably British Presbyterian John Hick, began to advocate a new “theocentric” interpretation of religious diversity. Calling for a “Copernican revolution of religions,” Hick proposed that all religions are culturally particular responses to the one God, whom they all seek. As he wrote in God and the Universe of Faiths (1973), “We have to postulate an ultimate transcendent reality, the source and ground of everything, that is in itself beyond the scope of human conceptuality but is variously conceived, therefore variously experienced, and therefore variously responded to in life, from within these different religious totalities.”27 Indian theologian Stanley Samartha offered a similar theocentric proposal, describing all religions as different responses to Ultimate Mystery. Unlike Hick, Samartha drew on the Indian advaita (nondual) philosophical tradition to propose that diversity rather than unity is at the heart of Being itself. Therefore, all world religions are legitimate expressions of the diversity of Being. In 1982, Alan Race published Christians and Religious Pluralism, summarizing the three basic Christian approaches to religious diversity as “exclusivism” (Christianity alone was the true religion), “inclusivism” (the wisdom of all other religious traditions is fulfilled in Christianity), and “pluralism” (the theocentric view advocated by Hick and Samartha). This threefold typology has become the common starting point for labeling approaches to religious diversity. This typology and the emergence of the pluralist approach that prompted it have generated many critiques since the 1990s. North American Reformed theologians, such as Daniel Migliore, Douglas John Hall, and Shirley Guthrie, have emphasized that none of the three options is fully adequate, because they do not take the particularity of Christianity and the post-Christendom situation of the church seriously enough. Many of those who have criticized “pluralism” have been influenced by Reformed theologian Karl Barth’s sharp critique of human religion in the early twentieth century. Barth began with God’s work of reconciliation in Jesus Christ and banned all appeals to natural or general revelation. God can be known only through God’s self-revelation in Jesus Christ, not through any other means. Christ reveals God’s love for all humanity, and all humanity is elect in Christ—but we cannot claim that salvation is universal, because that would limit God’s freedom. The most we can do is hope that God’s reconciling love embraces even those who have rejected or never known it. Barth argued that looking for points of contact between Christianity and other religious traditions is the

450   martha l. moore-keish wrong starting point. Human religion is “unbelief,” and it starts with human effort, rather than turning to God’s revelation. Lesslie Newbigin (1909–1998) responded to religious diversity in similar ways. Ordained in the Church of Scotland, Newbigin became a bishop of the Church of South India and wrote much on the relationship of Christianity to other religions. In The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (1989), he argued that we should reject religious pluralism (i.e., Hick) and acknowledge Jesus Christ as the decisive revelation of God for salvation of the world. He rejected the question whether the non-Christian can be saved, because (a) it presumes to know what God alone can know; (b) it is abstract; and (c) it starts with the individual rather than God’s glory. Instead, we should expect, welcome, and look for signs of grace of God among people who do not know Jesus as Lord, cooperate with people on all projects that are in line with God’s purpose in history, discover true dialogue through mutual work, and focus on telling the story of Jesus, without presuming that it is our job to convert.28 The views of Barth and Newbigin influenced several Presbyterian confessions, including the Confession of 1967, which states: “The reconciling word of the gospel is God’s judgment upon all forms of religion, including the Christian. The gift of God in Christ is for all men. The church, therefore, is commissioned to carry the gospel to all men whatever their religion may be and even when they profess none.”29 The 1998 Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Study Catechism reflects similar insights.

Engagements with Other Religious Communities In addition to general theological statements about religious diversity, Presbyterians have engaged theologically in significant ways with specific religious traditions.

Jews Presbyterians and Jews have interacted since the sixteenth century, and Presbyterians inherited a long and troubled history of anti-Judaism from the previous fifteen centuries of Christianity. From the sixteenth through the eighteenth centuries, Presbyterians wrote little directly about the Jews. During the missionary fervor of the nineteenth century, some Presbyterians sought to convert Jews. For instance, the Church of Scotland in 1840 resolved to make mission work among the Jews one of its major schemes.30 The horrors of the Holocaust (1939–1945) and the founding of the state of Israel in 1948 prompted a new chapter in Christian-Jewish relations, characterized by remorse about Christian anti-Judaism, renewed respect for God’s ongoing covenant with the Jewish people, and complicated discussions of land and peoplehood. Presbyterians,

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   451 especially in Europe and North America, have deeply engaged in these matters since the 1960s, building on the work of Vatican II in Nostra Aetate (1965) and the ecumenical report of the Faith and Order Commission of the World Council of Churches (1968). The Christian/Jewish Consultation Group of the Church of Scotland issued a significant report on this topic in 1985, as did the World Alliance of Reformed Churches in 1986. In 1987, the PC(USA) released a study paper on the relationship between Christians and Jews that draws on much of this earlier work and makes seven theological affirmations: 1. The God who addresses both Christians and Jews is the same living and true God. 2. The church has been engrafted into the people of God established by the covenant with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob (not replacing the Jews). 3. The church and the Jewish people are elected by God for witness to the world. 4. The reign of God is attested both by the continuation of the Jewish people and by the church’s proclamation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. Jews remain in covenantal relation with God. 5. The church has long and deep complicity in anti-Judaism. We repudiate that teaching, “together with the acts and attitudes which it generates.” 6. God has promised land along with the obligations of that promise to the people Israel. 7. Jews and Christians are partners in waiting for God’s final manifestation of God’s promise of the peaceable kingdom.31 Each affirmation has roots in historic Christian tradition, but much rethinking of the Presbyterian position has occurred since the mid-twentieth century, as is evident in new emphasis on the image of engrafting; the confession of anti-Judaism; and the themes of continuing covenant, continuing promise of land, and partnership in eschatological waiting. Since the 1980s, Presbyterian-Jewish relations have continued to deepen through dialogue, even as they have been increasingly complicated by the conflict between Israeli and Palestinian peoples.

Muslims Until the nineteenth century, Presbyterian knowledge of Muslims was almost entirely shaped by the perception of Islam as an enemy because of the Crusades and the activities of the Ottoman Empire. Beginning in the nineteenth century, Presbyterians began to encounter Muslims in person, usually in the context of missions, and they offered varying assessments of this religious tradition. In Africa, Christian missionaries primarily sought to convince Muslims of the superior truth of Christian doctrine, but they sometimes saw Islam as helping “less sophisticated” Africans improve their conduct and living standards.32 The 1910 Edinburgh missionary conference criticized Islam in Africa for lacking “knowledge of the Divine Fatherhood” and “compassion for those

452   martha l. moore-keish outside its pale” and for being “a religion of despair and doom” for African women.33 In response, Edward Wilmot Blyden, a Presbyterian African American missionary in Sierra Leone, claimed that Islam had had a very positive effect on Africa in countering immoral behavior and inspiring harmony and self-sufficiency. He also called Christians to view Islam with greater sympathy and liberality.34 Christian-Muslim dialogue significantly increased in the late twentieth century. In 1987, the PC(USA) published a report entitled Christians and Muslims Together, which stated four specific aims: (a) to invite Christians to review and rethink their approach to Islam and their relation to Muslims; (b) to overcome prejudices toward and stereotypes about Islam, Muslims, and Arabs; (c) to re-examine and clarify attitudes, motivations, and intentions with respect to interfaith relations, especially with Muslims; and (d) to engage in fresh theological thinking about the mission of the church in today’s pluralistic world.35 Contemporary Presbyterian-Muslim relations vary considerably depending on the political and social context. In Egypt, for instance, Christians are a minority, and Muslims are the politically powerful majority. Official evangelism is forbidden, and polemical exchanges tend to exacerbate hostility toward Christians, so the primary interaction is through official dialogues on issues of common concern, as well as continued medical and educational services provided by Presbyterians to Christians and Muslims alike.36 In Sudan, Christian-Muslim relations have been even more violent, driving a civil war between the Muslim north and the more Christian south, which established a separate state in 2011. In both Sudan and South Sudan, the Christian minority (including Presbyterians) tend to have very negative views of Muslims as Arabs (not Africans) and enemies.37 By contrast, in India and Israel/Palestine, Christians and Muslims are both religious minorities and therefore often have cordial cooperative relations with each other. In the United States and Europe, Muslims have always been a minority, and selfidentified Christians remain the majority. The relationship with Islam in these areas has become more difficult since 2001, however, as more Christians, including Presbyterians, have been affected by fear of Islamic terrorism. Althouigh some Presbyterians have portrayed Islam as an enemy of Christianity, others have sought to further understand Islam, as, for instance, in the 2010 PC(USA) curriculum on Islam and Christianity.38

African Traditional Religions (ATR) Presbyterians encountered African traditional religions in many missionary endeavors in the nineteenth century. At that time, common evolutionary views of religion led Presbyterians to think of ATR as primitive.39 Missionaries initially found few points of contact between ATR and Christianity. Converts were segregated into separate Christian villages to distance them from indigenous culture, producing a form of Christianity poorly adapted to the African context.

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   453 This sweeping dismissal of ATR gradually shifted as missionaries lived with people and began to discern points of contact that could enhance their apologetic efforts. Although conversion still required renouncing some parts of traditional religion, Christianity and ATR were not seen as utterly opposed. The specific relationship of Christianity to ATR differed according to tribe; in some places, the dividing line was participation in traditional secret societies, which converts to Christianity had to abandon. In other places, Christians compromised on secret societies, but focused on the destruction of ancestral shrines. In the twentieth century, such destruction sometimes became quite public and extreme when Christians cut down sacred trees or killed sacred animals without explanation.40 During colonial rule, political power and Christian missionary efforts in Africa were deeply entwined. In Nigeria in the early twentieth century, for instance, Christianity grew while the British were establishing their power in the country, and people converted in part because they wanted the richer and fuller life they saw among the British. In embracing Christianity, they also brought elements of their traditional worldview, including a high view of the minister as “middle man” between God and humanity.41 In the postcolonial era, African Presbyterians have called for increasing inculturation of Christianity in the African context. This has led to even greater integration of insights and practices from African traditional religions into Christian communities.

Hinduism As with ATR, the first direct encounter of Presbyterians with Hinduism occurred during the nineteenth-century missionary movement, when British and American Presbyterians established missions in India. The first contacts generally dismissed Hindu teachings and practices as superstitious, but in the late nineteenth century, Presbyterians began to study and gain new appreciation for Hindu sacred texts such as the Vedas and Upanishads. At the 1893 World’s Parliament of Religions, Swami Vivekananda greatly impressed many American Presbyterians, inspiring particular interest in Hinduism, even as interest in comparative religions was growing generally. After Indian independence, most Presbyterians in India joined either the Church of South India (in 1947) or the Church of North India (in 1970), though a separate Presbyterian Church of India exists, mainly in the northeast. Overall, twentieth-century Indian Presbyterians (and the union churches they joined) have moved from cautious respect for Hinduism to deeper positive engagement, and then to more recent critique and suspicion because of the alliance of Hinduism with Indian political power. In the 1960s through 1980s, Presbyterian and other Indian Christians sought to enculturate Christianity in dialogue with classical Hinduism, as well as with regional folk traditions. Stanley Samartha, who uses concepts from advaita philosophy and the savior narratives of Krishna and Buddha to reconceptualize Christology in an Indian context, is an example of this positive engagement. Since the 1990s, however, the rise of Hindu nationalism in

454   martha l. moore-keish India has complicated relations with religious minorities, including the Presbyterians in that country. Any outreach perceived as evangelistic is forbidden, and many Presbyterians and other Christians are suspicious of Hindu religious activities because Hinduism is aligned with privileged upper-caste political power. Even so, much positive interaction between the religious communities occurs in everyday life.

Contemporary Trajectories Today, Presbyterians are pursuing four major trajectories as they engage religious diversity: • Some are exploring recent Trinitarian theologies of religious diversity. Several recent theologians, including Catholic Jacques Dupuis, American Baptist Mark Heim, and Presbyterian Daniel Migliore, have offered trinitarian analyses of religious diversity that merit attention. While they differ in important ways, they concur that the distinctive Christian Trinitarian doctrine offers an opportunity for, not an obstacle to, dialogue with proponents of other religions. In our religiously diverse world, Presbyterians can affirm that God is sovereign and free, Jesus Christ is Lord and Savior, and the Holy Spirit is working beyond our religious borders. • Some Presbyterians are deepening engagement with religious communities in their particular settings. There is no religion “in general,” only religious communities that exist in specific political, economic, racialized, and gendered contexts. • Some continue to develop theologies of evangelism that take religious diversity seriously. Samartha, for example, proposes that Christian mission invites all people to renew their lives through encounter with God. Samartha favors the term “witness” rather than “mission,” because it prioritizes relationships in sharing the gospel.42 • Presbyterians in North America particularly need to engage with the spiritual but not religious (SBNR) movement, which sees “religion” as a problematic category, yet seeks to find meaning in life. While Presbyterians critique the individualism of this group, SBNRs demonstrate a hunger for ritual, community, and social outreach that merits attention and invites dialogue.43

Notes 1. Scots Confession, in Office of the General Assembly, PC(USA), Book of Confessions: Study Edition, revised. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2017, 3.24. 2. Second Helvetic Confession (1566), in Book of Confessions, 5.002. 3. Second Helvetic Confession (1566), in Book of Confessions, 5.129. 4. See, for example, the Second Helvetic Confession, 5.062. 5. See, for example, the Second Helvetic Confession, 5.019.

presbyterians, religious diversity, and world religions   455 6. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John  T.  McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960), 1.10.3. 7. Calvin, Institutes, 1.3.1. 8. See Alexander Craighead, “Renew the Covenants with a Drawn Sword,” in The Presbyterian Enterprise: Sources of American Presbyterian History, ed. Maurice  W.  Armstrong, Lefferts A. Loetscher, and Charles A. Anderson (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1956), 57–60. 9. “We Ask No Ecclesiastical Establishment for Ourselves; Neither Can We Approve of Them When Granted to Others,” in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, 91. 10. Samuel Davies, “The Curse of Cowardice,” in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, 65. 11. “A Presbyterian Mystic,” excerpts from the diary of David Brainerd, in Armstrong, Loetscher, and Anderson, Presbyterian Enterprise, 49–53. 12. M. T. Yates, “Ancestral Worship,” in Records of the General Conference of the Protestant Missionaries of China, held at Shanghai, May 10–14, 1877 (Shanghai: Presbyterian Mission Press, 1878), 367–387. 13. Stanley Brush, “Christianity and Islam in India,” Journal of Presbyterian History 62 (1984): 217. 14. William H. Berger, “James Shepard Dennis, Syrian Missionary and Apologist,” American Presbyterians 64 (1986): 99. 15. See Edward B. Tylor, Primitive Culture (London: John Murray, 1871); and J. G. Frazer, The Golden Bough: A Study in Comparative Religion. 1st ed., 2 vols. New York: Macmillan and Co., 1890; 2nd ed.: The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion. London: Macmillan and Co., 1900; 3rd ed.: The Golden Bough: A Study in Magic and Religion. 12 vols. London: Macmillan and Co., 1906–1915. 16. Berger, “James Shepard Dennis,” 100. 17. Sung-Deuk Oak, Making of Korean Christianity: Protestant Encounters with Korean Religions 1876–1915 (Waco, TX: Baylor University Press, 2015), 247. 18. Oak, Making of Korean Christianity, 33–83. 19. John Henry Barrows, ed., preface to The World’s Parliament of Religions, vol. 1, ed. John Henry Barrows (Chicago: Lakeside Press, 1893), ix. 20. John Henry Barrows, “Part First: History of the Parliament,” in The World’s Parliament of Religions (Chicago: The Lakeside Press, 1893), 3. 21. J.  Campbell Robinson, The Free Presbyterian Church of Australia (Melbourne, AUS: W. A. Hamer 1947), 2. 22. Bradley  J.  Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 200. 23. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 201–212. 24. Adopted at a meeting in February 1936 at Chinju. See Wi Jo Kang, “Presbyterians and the Japanese in Korea,” Journal of Presbyterian History 62 (1984): 47. 25. Abraham A. Akrong and John Azumah, “Hermeneutical and Theological Resources in African Traditional Religions for Christian-Muslim Relations in Africa,” in The African Christian and Islam, ed. John Azumah and Lamin Sanneh (Carlisle, UK: Langham Monographs, 2013), 78. 26. Confession of 1967, in Book of Confessions, 9.41–42. 27. John Hick, God and the Universe of Faiths (London: Macmillan, 1973), 50.

456   martha l. moore-keish 28. Lesslie Newbigin, The Gospel in a Pluralist Society (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1989), 180–183. 29. Confession of 1967, 9.42. 30. Andrew A. Bonar, Narrative of a Mission of Inquiry to the Jews from the Church of Scotland in 1839 (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1845), 520. 31. “A Theological Understanding of the Relationship between Christians and Jews,” A Paper Commended to the Church for Study and Reflection, by the 199th General Assembly (1987), Presbyterian Church (USA) (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A., 1987). 32. John Azumah, “Patterns of Christian-Muslim Encounters in Africa,” in Azumah and Sanneh, African Christian and Islam, 50–51. 33. World Missionary Conference 1910, 243, cited in Azumah, “Patterns,” in Azumah and Sanneh, African Christian and Islam, 51. 34. Azumah, “Patterns,” in Azumah and Sanneh, African Christian and Islam, 52–53. 35. Byron Haines and Frank Cooley, eds., Christians and Muslims Together: An Exploration by Presbyterians (Philadelphia: Geneva Press, 1987), 10. 36. Tharwat Wahba, “Egypt,” in Azumah and Sanneh, African Christian and Islam, 273–288. 37. James B. Obwonyo, “Sudan,” in Azumah and Sanneh, African Christian and Islam, 391–405. 38. Mitali Perkins and Jay  T.  Rock, Islam and Christianity (Louisville, KY: Congregational Ministries Publishing, Presbyterian Church, U.S.A., 2010). 39. Akrong and Azumah, “Hermeneutical and Theological Resources,” in Azumah and Sanneh, African Christian and Islam, 68–69. 40. Geoffrey Johnston, Of God and Maxim Guns: Presbyterianism in Nigeria, 1846–1966 (Waterloo, CAN: Canadian Corporation for Studies in Religion and Wilfrid Laurier Press, 1988), 297–298. 41. Johnston, Of God and Maxim Guns, 61–62. 42. Samartha, cited in Gaikwad Rogers, “Reconceptualizing Religion, Dialogue, Theology and Mission in Pluralistic Society: The Contribution of S.  J.  Samartha,” in Interfaith Relations after One Hundred Years: Christian Mission among Other Faiths, ed. Marina Ngursangzeli Behera (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2011), 284. 43. See Linda A. Mercadente, Belief without Borders: Inside the Minds of the Spiritual but Not Religious (New York: Oxford University Press, 2014).

Bibliography Armstrong, Maurice W., Lefferts A. Loetscher, and Charles A. Anderson, eds. The Presbyterian Enterprise: Sources of American Presbyterian History. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1956. Barrows, John Henry, ed. The World’s Parliament of Religions, vol. 1. Chicago: Lakeside Press, 1893. Hick, John. God and the Universe of Faiths. London: Macmillan, 1973. Newbigin, Lesslie. The Gospel in a Pluralist Society. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1989.

chapter 28

Pr esby ter i a ns, Phil osoph y, Nat u r a l Theol ogy, a n d A pol ogetics David VanDrunen

Introduction When Christians engage in serious theological reflection, they inevitably confront questions of philosophy, and Christian consideration of philosophy inevitably prompts questions about natural theology. Convictions about philosophy and natural theology, in turn, shape a theologian’s approach to apologetics, the intellectual defense of the Christian faith. This chapter considers the development of these three large but interrelated fields of thought in the history of Presbyterianism, and also adds some discussion of science, insofar as it touches these subjects.1 The storyline it traces has three main stages. The first stage, considered in the opening two sections, takes us back to the Reformation and Reformed orthodox eras (sixteenth and seventeenth centuries), in which Presbyterian theology developed and found enduring expression in the Westminster Confession and Catechisms. In this foundational period, Presbyterian and other Reformed theologians believed that God revealed himself not only in Scripture but also in nature, and affirmed that human beings, though fallen and therefore prone to distort natural revelation, still have the requisite faculties to learn truth from it. Accordingly, these theologians held that they could utilize philosophical insights critically, engage in natural theology for limited purposes, and invoke philosophical insights and evidence from nature in their apologetics. They also affirmed that scientific investigation is an honorable vocation that, if done well, ought to testify to God’s work and yield results in harmony with Scripture.

458   david vandrunen The second stage of the storyline turns to Presbyterians’ response to the challenges of the modern, post-Enlightenment world of the nineteenth century. Here the focus is on the influential theologians at Princeton Seminary and the argument that they strove to continue the same basic convictions of earlier centuries in their new social and intellectual context. The third stage emerges in the wake of controversies about theological modernism. In the mid-twentieth century Presbyterians around the world were heavily influenced by continental Reformed theologians, who were more sympathetic to aspects of Enlightenment philosophy than the Princetonians had been, which led these theologians to reject natural theology and reconsider the nature of apologetics. One stream of continental Reformed thought, neo-Calvinism, especially shaped the more conservative Presbyterian world, and another stream, Neo-orthodoxy, especially shaped the mainline Presbyterian world. The chapter concludes by suggesting that recent developments among Presbyterian theologians point to a renewed appreciation of the older approaches of the Reformed orthodox theologians and nineteenth-century Princetonians, and that promising new ways of appropriating and applying their tradition are opening up for Presbyterians in the years to come.

The Reformation and Reformed Orthodoxy Presbyterianism developed as one manifestation of the larger Reformed theological and ecclesiastical movement. This movement was rooted in the Reformation of the early to mid-sixteenth century and gained maturity in the subsequent era of Reformed orthodoxy. Reformed orthodoxy, which ran roughly from the mid-sixteenth century to the early eighteenth century, refers to the effort of Reformed theologians to defend the insights of the Reformation and to work out their implications in an intellectually rigorous and coherent way. It is therefore impossible to understand early Presbyterian views on philosophy, natural theology, and apologetics without considering broader developments among Reformation and Reformed orthodox theologians. Thus, in this opening section I discuss these broader developments and then, in the second section, show how the Westminster Confession and Catechisms of the 1640s reflected common Reformed views. Through much of the twentieth century, conventional scholarly wisdom held that John Calvin (1509–1564) and other prominent reformers were quite critical of nonChristian philosophy and natural theology and hostile to the medieval scholasticism that made use of them. Reformed orthodoxy subsequently moved away from the biblical theology of the reformers and substituted a more rationalistic approach that reintroduced scholastic use of philosophy and natural theology. Over the past few decades, however, many historical theologians have subjected this conventional wisdom to a compelling critique, uncovering deep lines of continuity in the development of

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  459 Reformed thought from the Reformation through Reformed orthodoxy. These scholars have argued persuasively that the early Reformed tradition should be understood in a less Calvin-centric way and that Reformed scholasticism represented a method of presenting and teaching theology rather than a change in theological substance.2 Foundational for understanding the early Reformed views of the issues before us is the idea that human beings have a twofold knowledge of God—duplex cognitio Dei. The first is a knowledge of God the Creator. God makes this knowledge available not only in Scripture but also in the created world. Their second knowledge is of God as Redeemer. Such knowledge is found only in Scripture. Calvin distinguished these two kinds of knowledge near the outset of his Institutes of the Christian Religion,3 as did many subsequent Reformed orthodox writers.4 Reformed theologians’ convictions about natural theology were grounded in this idea of the twofold knowledge of God. For them, natural theology was not a theology based on reason rather than revelation, as many writers have misleadingly put it.5 Instead, they saw it as theology based on natural revelation, rather than on the special revelation preserved in Scripture.6 Prominent Reformed thinkers developed a sophisticated account of the different kinds of theology. As part of this account, they differentiated infinite theology (God’s own perfect knowledge) from the finite theology that human beings undertake based on what God reveals. They then distinguished two types of finite theology: natural theology, based on natural revelation, and supernatural theology, based on special revelation. They considered both natural and supernatural theology to be forms of true theology, at least when engaged properly.7 Calvin discusses natural theology in chapters 3 to 5 of book 1 of the Institutes. He describes both an internal sense of Deity that God inscribes in the hearts and consciences of all people and an external witness to God in the universe. But Calvin also  emphasizes how human beings, as sinners, have sorely corrupted this natural knowledge.8 Franciscus Junius (1545–1602) explains that Adam, before the Fall, held the principles of natural theology shared by all humans, but even in his case these principles were “veiled” and “imperfect.” After the Fall, the first principles still remained, yet became “completely compromised in themselves and quite confused among themselves, as though mere broken fragments of our nature, because of our depravity.” Thus, natural theology “can lead nothing at all to perfection”—that is, to heavenly glory.9 Francis Turretin (1623–1687) also defends the existence of natural theology. He demonstrates it from Romans 2:14, from universal human experience, and from the institution of religion throughout the world. But he, too, insists that it is insufficient for salvation.10 As even this brief discussion shows, “the Reformed theological tradition exhibits a deeply entrenched and historically continuous endorsement of natural theology.”11 Reformed theologians considered it a type of true theology, yet accorded it only a limited role. Not only did they regard it as insufficient for salvation but, as Richard Muller has argued, they saw it as an ancillary tool and not as a foundation upon which they might subsequently build a supernatural theology.12 This continuity in conviction about natural theology among sixteenth- and seventeenthcentury Reformed theologians did not produce a unanimous view about the use of philosophy. For one thing, the reformers sometimes polemicized against philosophy

460   david vandrunen and the non-Christian philosophers in ways that later Reformed orthodox writers did not—although even the former did not abandon all use of terms and structures derived from classical philosophy.13 In addition, Reformed thinkers did not always agree about which specific philosophers and philosophical categories were most helpful. Nevertheless, Turretin offers a useful general summary of the “orthodox” opinion on the use of philosophy in theology. Turretin calls for “a middle ground” between those who incorporate false philosophical notions into their theology and those who reject the use of philosophy altogether. The orthodox, he explains, “subordinate and compound” theology and philosophy “as subordinates which are not at variance with, but mutually assist each other.” Shortly thereafter, he claims that “theology rules over philosophy,” which “acts as a handmaid to and subserves” it. The orthodox “acknowledge that it [philosophy] has many and various uses in theology which must be accurately distinguished from its many abuses.”14 Several characteristics of the general Reformed approach are especially important. First, Reformed theologians looked at philosophy as a servant to theology, always subordinate rather than controlling.15 Second, they used philosophy eclectically, not because their thinking was incoherent but because they sought to make use of anything that was helpful, without being committed to any one particular philosopher or philosophical system.16 Third, they were generally realist in perspective, acknowledging the objective reality of God and the world and the subjective capability of human intellectual faculties to know them.17 Finally, Reformed theologians were broadly Aristotelian, not in the sense of being committed to everything Aristotle taught but in their general sympathy with a long-standing and constantly developing Christian Aristotelianism.18 Given their views of the natural knowledge of God and the reality of non-Christian philosophical insight, it is not surprising that early Reformed theologians found the evidence of God’s existence in natural revelation to be useful for apologetic purposes, although they did not believe they could persuade unbelievers apart from the preaching of the gospel and the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit. Theologians approached the subject differently. Calvin asserted that there is no need to construct philosophical proofs for God’s existence, because evidence from the natural world is immediately available to everyone.19 The Institutes calls attention to this evidence at some length.20 Other theologians, especially in the later seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, tried to develop more philosophically sophisticated arguments, at least in part to support apologetic efforts.21 Turretin, for example, analyzes in detail whether God’s existence can be “irrefutably demonstrated” with “unanswerable arguments,” not only from Scripture “but also from nature herself.” He offers a number of arguments from nature, which he groups under four main categories: “(1) the voice of universal nature; (2) the contemplation of man himself; (3) the testimony of conscience; (4) the consent of all mankind.”22 Finally, it is worth noting that these early Reformed theologians valued scientific investigation, which they believed provided further evidence of God’s handiwork in nature. Even Calvin, who held that the natural evidence for God was immediately plain to everyone, claimed that those who study astronomy, medicine, and other natural

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  461 sciences obtain “a deeper insight into the secret workings of divine wisdom.” He admired the skill of non-Christian scientists, such as the ancient physician Galen, and mused that the mind of a learned astronomer supplied “brighter views of his [God’s] glory.”23 In short, scientific study, even that conducted by unbelievers, helped confirm biblical truth.

The Westminster Confession and Catechisms With these general convictions of early Reformed theology in hand, it is time to consider Presbyterian thought specifically. As Presbyterian churches developed in the British Isles and other locales, no documents other than Scripture have played as important a  role in defining their doctrinal convictions and boundaries as the Westminster Confession of Faith (WCF) and the Westminster Larger Catechism (WLC) and Shorter Catechism (WSC). These statements, in many cases with only small modifications or none at all, continue to serve as doctrinal standards and teaching tools for Presbyterian denominations around the world. Many of those who framed these documents—as participants in the Westminster Assembly, which met in London between 1643 and 1652—were themselves students and practitioners of Reformed orthodox theology. Thus, there is little surprise to find that the Westminster Confession and the Catechisms express the same views of philosophy, natural theology, and apologetics as the previously described theologians. Many of the statements most relevant to this essay appear in the Confession’s opening chapter.24 The Confession begins by referring to “the light of nature” and “the works of creation and providence” (WCF 1.1; cf. WLC 2). Thus, it affirms both the internal and external aspects of natural revelation, as was common in early Reformed thought. These two aspects of natural revelation, the Confession continues, “manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power of God” (WCF 1.1). A later section elaborates: the light of nature shows “that there is a God, who hath lordship and sovereignty over all; is good, and doeth good unto all; and is therefore to be feared, loved, praised, called upon, trusted in, and served, and with all the heart, and with all the soul, and with all the might” (WCF 21.1). This last statement raises the issue of natural law, the idea that natural revelation makes known not only God’s existence but also his basic moral will for human beings. Although natural law was not considered in the previous section, it was another standard feature of early Reformed thought.25 The Confession and the Catechisms sometimes speak explicitly about “the law of God written in their [human] hearts” (WLC 17; WCF 4.2; cf. WCF 21.7), and other times implicitly, as in the statement from WCF 21.1 just quoted or the reference to the “general equity” of the judicial laws of Moses (WCF 19.4).26 The Confession and Catechisms, furthermore, emphasize not only that God reveals himself and his law in nature but also that human beings actually attain meaningful

462   david vandrunen knowledge of God from it. This is clear from the claim that natural revelation leaves human beings “inexcusable” (WCF 1.1), and that nature “plainly” reveals God’s existence” (WLC 2). Nevertheless, natural revelation does not provide “that knowledge of God, and of his will, which is necessary unto salvation” (WCF 1.1). All these assertions are consistent with the convictions of early Reformed theologians. The Confession also elucidates the role natural revelation plays in the church’s worship and government. As a classic Protestant document, the Confession teaches the doctrine of sola scriptura: Scripture reveals “the whole counsel of God, concerning all things necessary for his own glory, man’s salvation, faith, and life,” so that “nothing at any time is to be added” (WCF 1.6). But this same section guards against misconception of biblical sufficiency. While the sufficiency of Scripture makes unnecessary other forms of special revelation, such as “new revelations of the Spirit, or traditions of men,” it does not make natural revelation unnecessary. Even “some circumstances concerning the worship of God, and government of the Church, common to human actions and societies” must be ordered through “the light of nature” rather than through biblical exegesis. This section also states that what Scripture does sufficiently reveal “is either expressly set down in scripture, or by good and necessary consequence may be deduced from scripture” (WCF 1.6). In other words, the deductive powers of human reason, so important for philosophy, science, and other intellectual endeavors, are also necessary for interpreting the Bible.27 This, too, reflected common Reformed convictions of the seventeenth century.28

Presbyterians at Old Princeton Seminary Analyzing the development of Presbyterian thinking on these matters requires crossing the Atlantic and assessing nineteenth-century developments. Princeton Seminary was founded in 1812 as a small school for training Presbyterian ministers, but it quickly developed into the center of Presbyterian intellectual leadership in the United States and the world. One of the most contested debates about the history of “Old Princeton” (from its founding in 1812 until the reorganization of its board in 1929) concerns its use of the Scottish philosophy known as common-sense realism. Some scholars have argued that common-sense realism played an outsized role at Princeton, which distorted its Reformed commitments and its approach to apologetics and science. I concur with other scholars, however, who conclude that the Princetonians used common-sense realism selectively and critically and did not thereby materially distort the classic Reformed theology they aimed to uphold. I suggest, accordingly, that they used philosophy and approached natural theology, apologetics, and science in essentially the same ways as did Reformation and Reformed orthodox theologians before them. A few background comments about common-sense realism and Princeton are necessary. This philosophy developed in the Scottish Enlightenment, especially through

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  463 the work of Thomas Reid (1710–1796). Reid and others sought to respond to the skepticism prevalent in much of the British philosophy of their day. Prominent writers such as David Hume and George Berkeley argued that a person’s own ideas and perceptions were their only immediate objects of knowledge, and thus that people have no certain and objective knowledge of a real world existing outside of their own consciousness. In response, common-sense realism affirmed that people do have objective and reliable knowledge of the external world and that their common-sense judgments about how the world operates and how human beings need to live within it are fundamentally trustworthy.29 Common-sense realism became the predominant philosophical perspective among American intellectuals in the nineteenth century,30 yet its place at Princeton has attracted special attention. Historians often give credit to John Witherspoon, a Scottish immigrant who became president of Princeton University (then called the College of New Jersey) in 1768, for spreading this philosophy on American soil, not only through his role as college president but also as an American founder and leader in the nascent American Presbyterian church. According to a theory that was popular throughout much of the second half of the twentieth century, the Old Princeton theologians, especially its most eminent intellects, Charles Hodge (1797–1878) and Benjamin B. Warfield (1851–1921), embraced common-sense realism to such a degree that it distorted the Reformed theology they professed to promote. As one Reformed critic has argued, the Princetonians failed to reckon with the stark effects of sin on the human intellect and uncritically adopted a non-Christian philosophy that naively considered the commonsense judgments of the human intellect to be accurate.31 In recent years, numerous scholars have challenged this interpretation of Old Princeton theology and have offered more plausible accounts of the Princetonians’ use of common-sense realism. Princetonians clearly utilized this philosophy. But Hodge’s treatment of the necessity of Scripture, the corruption of sin, and the need for the Holy Spirit’s sovereign and supernatural regeneration is congruent with the Westminster Confession and Catechisms and the common teaching of earlier Reformed theologians.32 In addition, other American Presbyterian theologians of this era who utilized commonsense realism cautioned against exaggerating the powers of reason and warned that people would come to false conclusions if they failed to take into account the corruption of sinful prejudices and passions.33 Paul Helseth has called attention to the moral (and not narrowly rational) character of “right reason” for the Old Princeton theologians and to their sense of the need for “congeniality” between the human knower and the God-created world they seek to know.34 Whether the Princetonians’ incorporation of common-sense realism into their thought is consistent and cogent is certainly debatable, but the conclusion that they attempted to be selective and critical in their use of it is compelling.35 In a broader context, the approach of the Princetonians, as Presbyterians committed to classical Reformed theology, made a great deal of sense. The theologians of the Reformation and Reformed orthodoxy were eclectic in their use of philosophy. They did not see the need to develop a uniquely Christian philosophical system but borrowed and adapted from various philosophical ideas available to them. The Princetonians seem to

464   david vandrunen have done the same. Common-sense realism was obviously a well-known philosophy in their day, and considering their other prominent options, it is hardly surprising that they found it the most useful one. Given the generally realist outlook of their Reformed predecessors, the affirmation in the Westminster Larger Catechism that God is revealed “plainly” in nature, and the statements to similar effect in Romans 1, the Princeton theologians understandably felt greater affinity with the Scottish common-sense philosophy than with the various skeptical and idealist philosophies of the day, such as those of Hume and, especially, Immanuel Kant. In this light, the Princetonians’ philosophical proclivities hardly seem naïve or uncritical. Although common-sense realism was itself a product of the Enlightenment (understood broadly), its reception at Princeton was largely part of rejecting more radical Enlightenment philosophical options that severely challenged traditional Reformed ideas about nature and knowledge.36 The Princetonians’ thinking about natural theology, apologetics, and science was consistent with their approach to philosophy. With respect to natural theology, Hodge stakes out similar ground to that of earlier Reformed theologians. He rejects two extreme views of natural theology, one denying that “the works of nature” are “trustworthy revelation of the being and perfections of God” and the other portraying natural revelation as “so clear and comprehensive as to preclude the necessity of any supernatural revelation.” He refutes several objections to the idea that nature reveals God, and then uses Scripture to argue that it does, referring especially to Psalms 19:1–4 and 94:8–10, Acts 14:15–17 and 16:24–29, and Romans 1:19–21. He concludes that “not only the being of God, but also his eternal power and Godhead are so revealed in his works” that they clearly provide “a stable foundation for natural theology.” Yet natural theology is insufficient for salvation, because “it is only by supernatural revelation that we know that any sinner can be saved” and “can know what are the conditions of salvation, or who are to be its subjects.”37 Hodge’s apologetics corresponds to his natural theology. Although apologetics involves more than defending the existence of God, this has been a central concern of the Christian apologetic enterprise. Thus, it is striking that Hodge devotes a long section to considering traditional arguments for God’s existence and answering various objections to them. In doing so, he interacts several times with Hume and Kant, who “have more or less expressly denied the validity of the ordinary arguments for the existence of a personal God.”38 Although Hodge defends the traditional proofs or versions thereof, he nevertheless recognizes their limits. He acknowledges that proofs that rest on the principle of causation cannot be persuasive to those who reject the idea of an efficient cause, and that proofs based on design will not persuade those who say there are no final causes.39 He also emphasizes that “speculative reason” is never supreme, but must be subjected “to the mind of God as revealed in his Word, and by his Spirit in our inner life.”40 Hodge and his fellow Princetonians—including Warfield, Princeton’s most famous apologist—believed that valid arguments for God’s existence could be derived from natural revelation but that they were not the basis on which faith rests.41

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  465 Science presents a final issue to consider. The relation of science to Christianity became especially important in the mid-nineteenth century with the rise of evolutionary thought and the publications of Charles Darwin. As with many other matters, Princeton was the most important center of Presbyterian thinking on this issue, and perhaps the most important for all of American Protestantism.42 Thus, although Presbyterians in other parts of the globe were also thinking intently about science, it is appropriate again to look to Princeton.43 The Princetonians did not agree about evolution and its compatibility, or potential compatibility, with traditional Presbyterian commitments. For example, Princeton’s college president James McCosh (1811–1894) and seminary professor Charles Hodge, two of the leading Christian commentators on scientific and religious issues of their day, took somewhat different positions on evolution (McCosh was more favorable; Hodge was less so), and Warfield later developed a sophisticated account with both serious criticisms of and sympathies toward evolution.44 But they all shared several general convictions. First, they put common-sense realism to use as they considered evolutionary theories.45 Second, however, they evaluated these theories theologically. For example, their theological commitments led them all to critique Darwinism as naturalistic (whatever its specific scientific merits might have been),46 but their theology also gave them categories (such as primary causation and secondary causation) that kept some of them open to accepting an important role for evolutionary development.47 Third and finally, the Princetonians had confidence in the ultimate harmony between science and Scripture, if the former is done well, and the latter interpreted properly.48 Given their commitment to historic Reformed views of the trustworthiness of both natural and supernatural revelation, this conclusion is not surprising.

Neo-Calvinism, Neo-Orthodoxy, and Twentieth-Century Presbyterian Thought The late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries were tumultuous times for many Presbyterian (and other Reformed) churches and institutions in the United States and around the world. Theological modernism (or liberalism) had made serious inroads in Presbyterian circles, seeking to accommodate Christianity to the modern world through reworking many traditional doctrines and redefining the nature of biblical authority, while conservative voices and other critics sought to stop growing modernist hegemony. Two of the most prominent critics of modernism during this era were the Dutch theologian and politician Abraham Kuyper (1837–1920) and the Swiss theologian Karl Barth (1886–1968), the two figures most associated with the influential movements known respectively as neo-Calvinism and neo-orthodoxy. These two men and movements were

466   david vandrunen different in many important respects, but they also shared some general convictions relevant to the concerns of this chapter. Kuyper and Barth both worked within the continental Reformed tradition, but their influence penetrated many Presbyterian institutions throughout the twentieth century. The chapter considers how their influence entailed some shifts in Presbyterian thinking about issues of philosophy, natural theology, and apologetics.49 Because Kuyper and Barth were complex thinkers it is difficult to describe their views succinctly. Both seemed to accept aspects of Kant’s revolution in philosophy, with its focus on the subjective human knower and critique of classical and Christian epistemology, which, in turn, entailed a critical posture toward some traditional Reformed convictions concerning natural theology, apologetics, and science. Although Kuyper and Barth also maintained strong disagreements with Kant and were not “Kantians,” they incorporated into their own theologies aspects of Kant’s thought that the Old Princetonians had resisted. Kuyper’s Encyclopedia of Sacred Theology accepted the distinction between the phenomenal and noumenal realms and argued that only by an act of faith are people convinced that their senses perceive real objects. With explicit reference to Kant, Kuyper says that faith is the only bridge that can link phenomena to noumena.50 Later in this work, he hails the importance of Kant’s investigation of “the thinking subject” and how this investigation “gave rise to a riper development of the organic conception of science.” Kuyper acknowledged that Kant was no friend to Christianity, but he honored him and his followers for prompting “theology to look more satisfactorily into the deepest problems that face it.”51 In light of such convictions, Kuyper rejected the discipline of apologetics. According to his understanding, to perceive the natural order and to think that it is real and that it testifies to the existence and power of God is already an act of faith and thus presupposes religious conviction. If this is the case, a traditional Reformed apologetics in which theologians present the evidence of nature in order to convince unbelievers about Christian claims is pointless.52 These convictions also coincide with Kuyper’s claim that there are two kinds of science, one performed by regenerated believers and the other by nonregenerated unbelievers. These two sciences proceed from different starting points; one science is pursued by faith while the other is not.53 Therefore, although Kuyper was an opponent of theological modernism and a defender of confessional Reformed doctrine, and thus had many things in common with the Old Princetonians, he did not assess Kant in the same way they did, accept their apologetics based on the traditional theistic proofs, or share their confidence in the ultimate harmony between (mainstream) science and Scripture. Some of the scholars inspired by Kuyper’s thought also tried to develop a distinctively Christian philosophy, implicitly rejecting the eclectic approach of the Princetonians and other Reformed thinkers.54 Barth also accepted important aspects of Kant’s philosophy. As Bruce McCormack has argued, Barth’s theology was realistic, in conceiving of God as an objective reality existing in himself, apart from the knowing human subject. Barth’s thought thus differed from much of mainstream nineteenth-century Protestant theology. But his theology was critically realistic, not a return to the metaphysical realism of earlier Reformed and

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  467 medieval thought. According to McCormack, Barth always assumed the basic validity of Kant’s epistemology with respect to knowledge of empirical reality and assumed that Kant’s critique of classical metaphysics was successful. For Barth, the human knower cannot move from the empirical world to an understanding of God.55 These convictions were central to his staunch rejection of natural theology. God is objectively real, but humans can attain knowledge of God only through the revelation of God in Jesus Christ.56 Natural theology, as he saw it, represented a system different from this knowledge. It was speculation about something other than the true God.57 Along similar lines, Barth did not think that theologians should get drawn into discussion about their discipline’s basis in the existence of God or in revelation. Apologetics simply happens in the course of doing theology, “as God Himself acknowledges the witness of faith.” All planned apologetics programs are out of accord with faith because they end up taking unbelief seriously.58 To consider the influence of Kuyper and Barth on twentieth-century Presbyterianism, I turn first to Westminster Theological Seminary and especially its long-time professor of apologetics, Cornelius Van Til (1895–1987). Westminster Seminary was founded in 1929 with the goal of continuing the traditions of Old Princeton, and it came primarily to serve the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and other conservative Presbyterian bodies that broke away from the larger mainline churches as they became more sympathetic to modernism. Van Til was a sharp critic of Barth’s thought, but under the influence of Kuyper and broader neo-Calvinism, he, too, rejected natural theology and the classical apologetics linked to it. In this respect, he diverged from the Old Princeton tradition. Van Til posited an important difference between Warfield and Kuyper on the question of natural theology and its implications for apologetics, and sided with the latter. As Van Til saw it, Warfield thought that “right reason,” which all humans can utilize, is able “to interpret natural revelation with essential correctness.” Therefore, general human reason has “some criterion apart from Christianity with which to judge the truth of Christianity.” Thus, Warfield’s apologetics sought “to operate in neutral territory with the non-believer” to show him that “theism and Christianity are objectively true.” This reflected “classic realism.” Over against this, Van Til agreed with Kuyper that Christian theism can never share a common interpretation of natural revelation with “the natural man, who operates with the principle of autonomy.” The natural man operates by unbelief and is “perfectly consistent with himself and intellectually honest” in resisting arguments from nature in support of Christianity. Yet Van Til disagreed with Kuyper’s rejection of apologetics itself and concurred with Warfield “that Christianity is objectively defensible.” Although Van Til did not write a great deal about the natural sciences, he not only supported Kuyper’s notion of two kinds of science but also argued that arithmetic can be truly taught only in Christian schools.59 Meanwhile, Princeton Seminary continued to be an important source of theological leadership for mainline Presbyterian denominations (which subsequently merged to form the current Presbyterian Church, U.S.A.). Shortly after the reorganization of Princeton, the Scotsman John Mackay (1889–1983) became president of the seminary and promoted a general neo-orthodox perspective. Mackay had studied with Barth and expressed great sympathy with him, although he had some reservations. Princeton Seminary soon

468   david vandrunen became recognized as a leading center of neo-orthodox thought in America.60 Perhaps the most prominent Barthian at Princeton was Edward A. Dowey Jr. (1918–2003). In addition to serving the seminary, Dowey in the 1960s chaired the committee on confessional revision of the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America. Among the results of the committee’s work was the adoption of the Barthian-shaped Barmen Declaration (1934). The declaration’s statement that Jesus Christ “is the one Word of God which we have to hear and which we have to trust and obey in life and in death” echoes Barth’s polemics against natural theology.61 Another fruit of the committee’s work was the Confession of 1967, which also reflected Barthian themes.62 Another Presbyterian institution in which Barth had considerable influence was New College in Edinburgh, particularly through professor T. F. Torrance (1913–2007). Torrance was a major translator, interpreter, developer, and promoter of Barth’s work.63 Natural theology was an area of special interest. In a 1970 article, Torrance appreciatively discusses Barth’s early objections to natural theology and then explains what he perceives to be shifts in his thinking. According to Torrance, Barth’s mature critique was of natural theology practiced as an independent or autonomous discipline. If natural theology is incorporated within a theologia revelata, however, it loses its autonomous flavor and can be an important aspect of a true Christian theology.64 Whether Torrance interpreted Barth correctly on natural theology is open to debate,65 but he obviously had great appreciation for what he thought Barth was doing and hoped to carry it forward into future theological discussion, including with Roman Catholics.66

Conclusion: The Future of Presbyterian Philosophy, Natural Theology, and Apologetics Many contemporary Presbyterians seem to have renewed appreciation for older Reformed approaches to matters of philosophy, natural theology, and apologetics and a desire to interpret recent thinkers in ways that bring them more closely in line with traditional notions. To summarize and close this discussion, the chapter mentions three lines of evidence for this and suggests what it might mean for the future of Presbyterian thought. First, recent Presbyterian and other Reformed historians have overturned prior conventional wisdom regarding both Reformed orthodoxy and Old Princeton. While plenty of interpretative issues remain debatable, these scholars have compellingly refuted earlier views that portray these older theologians as scholastic rationalists who professed adherence to the Reformation theology of Calvin but in practice abandoned it. Taken together, their arguments make a strong case for broad lines of continuity on issues of philosophy, natural theology, and apologetics from the Reformation to Reformed orthodoxy to Old Princeton.

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  469 Second, some contemporary Presbyterian thinkers have attempted to reconcile the thought of figures such as Barth and Van Til with earlier traditions of natural theology and apologetics. Instead of seeking to exacerbate the differences between newer and older Reformed thinkers, they have tried to close the gap by pointing out areas of misunderstanding or shared concern. For example, Jeffrey Jue has argued that, though Van Til misinterpreted the Reformed orthodox on natural theology, his views on the subject are actually quite similar to theirs, since the kind of natural theology Van Til criticized was not the “true” natural theology accepted by the Reformed orthodox, but actually a form of the “false theology” they rejected.67 Whereas Jue suggests an alliance between Van Til and the Reformed orthodox against Old Princeton and its common-sense realism, Free Church of Scotland theologian Donald Macleod has highlighted the profound measure of agreement between Van Til and Warfield concerning the effects of sin on human knowledge.68 With respect to Barth, Torrance’s interpretation arguably softened Barth’s critique of the notion of natural theology and presented it in a form more similar to Reformed orthodoxy’s qualified approval of natural theology—a form that Barth himself may well have resisted. Finally, the past decade has witnessed renewed Presbyterian interest, both historical and constructive, in topics such as natural law and the thought of Thomas Aquinas. In many ways, this goes hand in hand with the revised understanding of Reformed orthodoxy and Old Princeton. It is interesting that theologians from both conservative and mainline Presbyterian circles have expressed this renewed interest, although they do not develop it in identical ways.69 As Presbyterians look to the future, they have been blessed with an abundance of good scholarship about their history. If they make constructive use of the whole of their tradition—taking seriously both Reformation and Reformed orthodox thinkers on philosophy and natural theology, both the Old Princeton response to the Enlightenment traditions and the different responses of more recent thinkers—then Presbyterians are in a strong position to address the considerable intellectual and cultural challenges that face them in the twenty-first century.

Notes 1. Many thanks to Chris Colquitt for outstanding research assistance. 2. See, especially, Richard  A.  Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725, 4 vols. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker, 2003). 3. See, especially, John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 2 vols., trans. Henry Beveridge (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1953), 1.2.1. All quotations are from this edition. 4. See Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 1:293. 5. See, for example, John Haldane, “Natural Theology,” in The Oxford Companion to Christian Thought, ed. Adrian Hastings, Alistair Mason, and Hugh Pyper (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2000), 465–466.

470   david vandrunen 6. See, for example, Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 293. 7. See, for example, Franciscus Junius, A Treatise on True Theology, trans. David  C.  Noe (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage, 2014), 141–169; and Francis Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, 3 vols., trans. George Musgrave Giger, ed. James  T.  Dennison Jr. (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1992–1997), 1:4–5. 8. On the internal witness, see Calvin, Institutes, 1.3.1, 3, 1.4.4. On the external witness, see Institutes, 1.5.1–2, 7–8. On the corruption of sin, see Institutes, 1.4, 1.5.4. For additional discussion, see J. V. Fesko and Guy M. Richard, “Natural Theology and the Westminster Confession of Faith,” in The Westminster Confession into the 21st Century, vol. 3, ed. J. Ligon Duncan (Ross-shire, Scotland: Mentor, 2009), 230–235; and Michael Sudduth, The Reformed Objection to Natural Theology (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2009), 15–17. 9. Junius, True Theology, 151, 154, 157. 10. Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, 1.6–16. 11. Sudduth, Reformed Objection, 9. 12. See Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 1:308–310. 13. See Muller, 1:360–361; and Sebastian Rehnman, “Alleged Rationalism: Francis Turretin on Reason,” Calvin Theological Journal 37 (2002): 257. 14. Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, 1.44. For additional discussion of Turretin on the uses of philosophy, see Rehnman, “Alleged Rationalism,” 262–269; and Paul Helm, Faith, Form, and Fashion: Classical Reformed Theology and Its Postmodern Critics (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2014), 57–60. 15. See Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 1.70. 16. See Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 1.67; Richard  A.  Muller, “Reformation, Orthodoxy, ‘Christian Aristotelianism,’ and the Eclecticism of Early Modern Philosophy,” Dutch Review of Church History 81 (2001): 308, 319–325; and Rehnman, “Alleged Rationalism,” 258–259. 17. See Helm, Faith, Form, and Fashion, 48–51. 18. See Muller, Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics, 1.71–72, 360–382. 19. See, especially, Calvin, Institutes, 1.5.9; see also 1.3.3, 1.5.2; and Sudduth, The Reformed Objection, 17. 20. See generally Calvin, Institutes, 1.3, 5. 21. See Sudduth, Reformed Objection, 22, 24. 22. Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, 1.169. See 1.170–177 for elaboration of the arguments. 23. Calvin, Institutes, 1.5.2. 24. For discussion of this chapter, see Fesko and Richard, “Natural Theology,” 251–254. 25. Stephen J. Grabill, Rediscovering the Natural Law in Reformed Theological Ethics (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2006); and David VanDrunen, Natural Law and the Two Kingdoms: A Study in the Development of Reformed Social Thought (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2010). 26. On the relation of “general equity” to natural law, see VanDrunen, Natural Law, 169–171. 27. For further discussion of the relation of sola scriptura to the Reformed doctrine of natural revelation, see David VanDrunen, Divine Covenants and Moral Order: A Biblical Theology of Natural Law (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2014), 488–489. 28. See Turretin, Institutes of Elenctic Theology, 1.37–43.

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  471 29. On these aspects of Reid’s philosophy, see Nicholas Wolterstorff, Thomas Reid and the Story of Epistemology (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); and William C.  Davis, Thomas Reid’s Ethics: Moral Epistemology on Legal Foundations (New York: Continuum, 2006). 30. See Mark Noll, “The Princeton Theology,” in Reformed Theology in America: A History of Its Modern Development, ed. David F. Wells (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1985), 15, 27; and David B. Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, vol. 2, The Majestic Testimony, 1869–1929 (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1996), 413. 31. See John  C.  Vander Stelt, Philosophy and Scripture: A Study in Old Princeton and Westminster Theology (Marlton, NJ: Mack, 1978). 32. Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology, 3 vols. (1872–1873; repr., Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1995), 1:25–31, 151–188; 2:130–277, 675–710. 33. On these themes in Witherspoon and the influential Southern Presbyterian James Henley Thornwell, see VanDrunen, Natural Law, 270–274. 34. See Paul Kjoss Helseth, “Right Reason” and the Princeton Mind: An Unorthodox Proposal (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2010); and Helseth, “‘Congeniality’ of Mind at Old Princeton Seminary: Warfieldians and Kuyperians Reconsidered,” Westminster Theological Journal 77 (2015): 1–14. On the subjective dimensions of human knowledge for the Old Princetonians, see also Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, 2:415–417. 35. For similar conclusions, see also Noll, “Princeton Theology,” 18–23; Annette G. Aubert, “Review Article: Old Princeton and Reformed Orthodoxy,” Westminster Theological Journal 74 (2012): 163; and Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, 2:414. 36. Among those making similar observations, see Helm, Faith, Form, and Fashion, 50–51; Helseth, “Right Reason,” 9; Sudduth, Reformed Objection, 36; Bradley J. Gundlach, Process and Providence: The Evolution Question at Princeton, 1845–1929 (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2013), 220–221; and Donald Fuller and Richard Gardiner, “Reformed Theology at Princeton and Amsterdam in the Late Nineteenth Century: A Reappraisal,” Presbyterion 21, no. 2 (1995): 102–103. 37. Hodge, Systematic Theology, 1:21–22, see also 1:22–25, 25–26. 38. Hodge, 1:191–240, 203; see also 1:212–215, 226, 228–229. 39. Hodge, 1:203. 40. Hodge, 1:16. 41. See also discussions in Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, 2:417–421; Helseth, “Right Reason,” 65–72, 104–106, 128–131; and Donald MacLeod, “Bavinck’s Prolegomena: Fresh Light on Amsterdam, Princeton, and Cornelius Van Til,” Westminster Theological Journal 68 (2006): 272–274. 42. See Gundlach, Process and Providence, 6. 43. For discussion of Presbyterian debates in Edinburgh and Belfast, as well as in Princeton, see David N. Livingstone, “Situating Evangelical Responses to Evolution,” in Evangelicals and Science in Historical Perspective, ed. David N. Livingstone, D. G. Hart, and Mark A. Noll (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 1999), 193–219. 44. See, generally, Gundlach, Process and Providence. 45. See, for example, Gundlach, Process and Providence, 9; and Gary Scott Smith, The Seeds of Secularization: Calvinism Culture, and Pluralism in America, 1870–1915 (Grand Rapids, MI: Christian University Press, 1985), 95–96.

472   david vandrunen 46. See, for example, Gundlach, Process and Providence, 98–129; and Smith, Seeds of Secularization, 96–100. 47. As Gundlach has argued at length. See the summary of his claims in Process and Providence, 2–3. 48. See, for example, Alister McGrath, “Science,” in The Oxford Handbook of Evangelical Theology, ed. Gerald R. McDermott (Oxford, UK: Oxford University Press, 2010), 442; and Smith, Seeds of Secularization, 106–107. 49. Although I will focus on their influence in America and Europe, it extended to Presbyterians worldwide. Korea offers a good example, as explored in Young-Gwan Kim, “Karl Barth’s Reception in Korea: An Historical Overview,” Evangelical Review of Theology 27, no. 1 (2003): 73–85. 50. Abraham Kuyper, Encyclopedia of Sacred Theology, trans. J. Hendrik De Vries (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1898), 132–133. 51. Kuyper, Encyclopedia, 675, cf. 293. See Fuller and Gardiner, “Reformed Theology,” 104–107. 52. See his dismissive comments about apologetics in Abraham Kuyper, Lectures on Calvinism (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1931), 11. 53. See Kuyper, Encyclopedia, 150–176. 54. I think especially of the “Reformational philosophy” of Herman Dooyeweerd, whose most important work was A New Critique of Theoretical Thought, 4 vols., 2nd ed., trans. David H. Freeman and William S. Young (Philadelphia: P&R, 1969). 55. Bruce L. McCormack, Karl Barth’s Critically Realistic Dialectical Theology: Its Genesis and Development 1909–1936 (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1995), 129–130. 56. See, for example, see Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 1, trans. G. W. Bromiley, ed. G. W. Bromiley and T. F. Torrance (New York: T & T Clark, 1975), 7–10. 57. Karl Barth, “No!,” in Natural Theology, trans. Peter Fraenkel (London: Geoffrey Bles and Centenary, 1946), 74–75. 58. Barth, Church Dogmatics, vol. 1, pt. 1, 29–31. Cf. Paul  D.  Molnar, “Natural Theology Revisited: A Comparison of T.  F.  Torrance and Karl Barth,” Zeitschrift für dialektische Theologie, 21 (2005): 79. 59. Cornelius Van Til, Defending the Faith (Philadelphia: P&R, 1955), 358–364. On teaching arithmetic, see Van Til, “Antithesis in Education,” in Foundations of Christian Education: Addresses to Christian Teachers, ed. Dennis E. Johnson (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 1990), 18. 60. See D. G. Hart, Calvinism: A History (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013), 291; and James H. Moorhead, Princeton Seminary in American Religion and Culture (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2012), 391–393. 61. “Theological Declaration of Barmen,” II.1, in The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Part I, Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 1991), 8.11. 62. See Hart, Calvinism, 292–293; and Moorhead, Princeton Seminary, 491. 63. On Torrance’s high praise for Barth, see Sebastian Rehnman, “Barthian Epigoni: Thomas F. Torrance’s Barth-Reception,” Westminster Theological Journal 60 (1998): 274–276. 64. T. F. Torrance, “The Problem of Natural Theology in the Thought of Karl Barth,” Religious Studies 6 (1970): 121–135. 65. See, for example, Molnar, “Natural Theology Revisited,” 53–83. 66. See Torrance, “Problem of Natural Theology,” 134–135. 67. Jeffrey K. Jue, “Theologia Naturalis: A Reformed Tradition,” in Revelation and Reason: New Essays in Reformed Apologetics, ed. K. Scott Oliphint and Lane G. Tipton (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007), 168–189.

presbyterians, philosophy, natural theology  473 68. Macleod, “Bavinck’s Prolegonema,” 274–278; Helseth, “‘Congeniality’ of Mind,” 12–14. 69. On the mainline side, see, for example, the work of John Bowlin, including Contingency and Fortune in Aquinas’s Ethics (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1999) and “Notes on Natural Law and Covenant,” Studies in Christian Ethics 28, no. 2 (2015): 142–149. From more conservative circles, my own work is an example. See VanDrunen, Divine Covenants and Moral Order; and Manfred Svensson and David VanDrunen, eds., Aquinas among the Protestants (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley-Blackwell, 2018).

Bibliography Bowlin, John. Contingency and Fortune in Aquinas’s Ethics. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 1999. Grabill, Stephen  J. Rediscovering the Natural Law in Reformed Theological Ethics. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2006. Gundlach, Bradley J. Process and Providence: The Evolution Question at Princeton, 1845–1929. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2013. Helm, Paul. Faith, Form, and Fashion: Classical Reformed Theology and Its Postmodern Critics. Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2014. Helseth, Paul Kjoss. “Right Reason” and the Princeton Mind: An Unorthodox Proposal. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2010. McCormack, Bruce  L. Karl Barth’s Critically Realistic Dialectical Theology: Its Genesis and Development, 1909–1936. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1995. Muller, Richard  A. Post-Reformation Reformed Dogmatics: The Rise and Development of Reformed Orthodoxy, ca. 1520 to ca. 1725. 4 vols. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academics, 2003. VanDrunen, David. Divine Covenants and Moral Order: A Biblical Theology of Natural Law. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2014. VanDrunen, David. Natural Law and the Two Kingdoms: A Study in the Development of Reformed Social Thought. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2010.

pa rt I V

WOR SH I P

chapter 29

Theol ogy of Worship Kimberly Bracken Long

Introduction Presbyterian worship is grounded in several theological principles: the sovereignty of God in all things, the presence of Christ in worship, and the activity of the Holy Spirit that enables the hearing of the Word and the efficacy of the sacraments. This Trinitarian foundation emerges from an understanding of Scripture as the church’s ultimate authority. Throughout history Presbyterian worship has focused on the proclamation of the Word of God through the reading of Scripture and preaching. In some eras and locales, the sacrament of the Lord’s Supper has been considered equally important, following John Calvin’s insistence that Christ is proclaimed fully through Word and sacrament together. In most cases, however, the Word has been the central element of worship. Presbyterians affirm the priesthood of all believers; no mediator is required to hear confession, give absolution, or intercede to God. Presbyterian worship is marked, then, by confidence in the grace of God, which is expressed through a regular pattern of confession and pardon.

Early Roots Presbyterian worship is rooted in the liturgical and theological programs of early Reformers such as Martin Bucer (1491–1551), John Calvin (1509–1564), and John Knox (1513–1572). The forms of worship of the early Protestant Reformers were simpler than those of the Roman Catholic Church, since the Protestant Reformers rejected the ceremonial Roman Catholic liturgy. These Reformers provided liturgies for the Service for the Lord’s Day (Sunday), including communion. A measure of freedom was granted to ministers in leading worship; written liturgies were provided, but each minister could pray “in these or other words,” either reading the words as printed or praying extemporaneously. A common pattern was observed, however. Vernacular languages were used

478   Kimberly Bracken Long instead of Latin in services, which included praise to the sovereign God; confession of sin before the God of justice, and the assurance of forgiveness by the God of grace; the reading of scripture and preaching, intercessory prayer, and the giving of alms. Protestant reformers rejected the sacramental system of the Roman Catholic Church, insisting on just two “dominical” sacraments—sacraments expressly commanded by Jesus Christ—baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Whenever they were observed, the ­sacraments were celebrated after the proclamation of the Word; they were understood as a seal, or confirmation, of believers’ incorporation into the body of Christ and God’s sustaining grace. Presbyterianism began in Great Britain, and the political shifts in England greatly affected the evolution of Presbyterian worship. During the rule of Edward VI, Thomas Cranmer authored the Book of Common Prayer, in 1549, which would become the standard liturgy of the Church of England. Cranmer was influenced by the work of Bucer and Calvin; his prayer book omits some ceremonial aspects of Roman Catholic worship and reflects a Reformed understanding of the real presence of Christ in communion. The Book of Common Prayer differed from Reformed liturgies, however, in that the liturgical texts were not suggested but mandated for use in the Church of England. Seeds of division were sown after Edward VI died in 1553 and Mary Tudor reinstituted Catholicism in England. With the change in rulers, some Protestants left for friendlier locales. By this time the 1552 Book of Common Prayer had become well-established, so the exiles found themselves in opposing camps—those who preferred the Anglican prayer book, and those who remained loyal to Calvin’s form of worship.1 Presbyterians in Britain rejected liturgical forms in favor of freedom of expression in worship and an emphasis on individual salvation. When an English liturgy was introduced in Scotland in 1637—called “Laud’s Liturgy” after Archbishop William Laud, who insisted that the Scots use the Book of Common Prayer—Presbyterians reacted strongly. Legend holds that Jenny Geddes, upon hearing the liturgy spoken in St. Giles Cathedral in Edinburgh, stood up, threw her stool at the head of her minister as he read from the prayer book, and accused him of saying Mass, triggering a riot. British Presbyterians did agree on some points of theology. They recognized two sacraments—baptism (most often practicing infant baptism) and the Lord’s Supper. They subscribed to an understanding of the “real presence” of Christ in the Lord’s Supper, holding to a middle ground between the Roman Catholic Church’s doctrine of transubstantiation and the radical Reformers view that the bread and wine were merely symbols of Christ’s body and blood. Corporate confession and intercession remained important, and the use of the Apostles’ Creed and the Lord’s Prayer linked Presbyterians with the historic church. Nevertheless, disagreements persisted throughout the political and ecclesial changes of the next century, culminating in a unique approach to ordering worship using a directory. The English Parliament approved the Westminster Directory for the Public Worship of God in 1645, and a Scottish Directory for Family Worship followed in 1647. These documents established the theological basis and practical guidelines for Presbyterian worship but did not prescribe a liturgy. Detractors of the Westminster Directory called it a “book of

Theology of Worship   479 rubrics” since it contained only instructions, but no liturgy. In practice, the instructions could be used as liturgy with a minimum of effort, but the principle of rejecting a prescribed prayer book remained intact. Puritan influence can be seen in the piety underlying the Westminster Directory; the minister was expected to be dedicated to God, and the theological integrity and spiritual vitality of the service depended largely on him. Furthermore, worshipers were expected to be committed, faithful, and spiritually engaged. This resulted in a style of worship that was largely led by the clergy; worshipers participated only through fervent singing and attentive listening.

Presbyterians in America Presbyterians brought both directories with them when they migrated to Ireland and the American colonies in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and the documents remained unchanged and authoritative for nearly a hundred and fifty years in Scottish, Irish, and American Presbyterian churches. By the 1730s, however, American Presbyterians had found that not all their ministers met the high standards of the Westminster Confession and that worshipers did not seem full of the Holy Spirit; they were ripe, therefore, for the revivals of the First Great Awakening. To Scots-Irish Presbyterians, revivalist tendencies were nothing new. They had brought with them to America the sacramental season—which involved several days of preaching, fasting, self-examination, and singing that culminated in a celebration of the Lord’s Supper. These occasions often took place in rural areas, and worshipers would travel to the site and stay for the duration. Elders went from family to family to ensure that they were worthy to participate in communion, questioning them on matters of doctrine and piety. Those who met the elders’ expectations were given a token to present at the communion to receive the elements. Using the vivid love poetry of the Song of Songs, along with various marital images from Scripture, preachers wooed worshipers to the communion table to experience union with Christ. They described Christ as a lover or husband who consummates marriage with the believer in the sacrament, and worshipers often responded with tears and sobbing, joy and ecstasy, laughing, dancing, and fainting. Despite the great emotion and even eroticism of the events, Presbyterians remained staunchly Calvinistic in their theology, emphasizing the sovereignty of God, affirming covenant theology, and insisting that the communion of believers, rather than the conversion of nonbelievers, was the goal of these sacramental revivals. Although the sacramental season died out around the early nineteenth century, it was for decades the spiritual and social highlight of the year, drawing faithful Presbyterians in a rhythm of repentance and renewal, and providing a festival-like atmosphere for those more interested in a week of drinking and carousing than in preaching and prayer. Not all Presbyterians engaged in these revivals, however, and the sacramental occasions were exceptional and seasonal, different from the more orderly forms of weekly worship. In fact, plenty of detractors in Scotland and Ulster and in America saw the

480   Kimberly Bracken Long sacramental occasions as disorderly and vulgar events; the involvement of Methodists and Baptists added to their distaste. As theological differences between denominations became clearer, and rural life gave way to an increasingly urban society, the sacramental revivals gradually disappeared. Methodists and Baptists continued holding revivals, but by the early nineteenth century, the sacrament was less frequently celebrated, and Presbyterian ministers no longer took part in it. During the latter years of the eighteenth century, two American Presbyterian churches were formed, the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) and the Associate Reformed Church in North America. Each body undertook a revision of the 1645 Westminster Directory for the Public Worship. Although the Associate Reformed directory (1799) stayed close to Westminster in both form and content, the PCUSA Directory for the Worship of God (1788) represented a major rewriting. Problems were arising in their worship that could not be blamed on the Book of Common Prayer. People went in and out whenever they pleased during worship. Some looked around, ignoring the minister and even turning their back on him at times. Others whispered, or laughed, or slept during the sermon, and although preaching was always an element of the service (even if many people failed to listen), the reading of Scripture was often omitted.2 The new PCUSA directory affirmed the Westminster Directory’s theology of ­worship, asserting that worship is to be rooted in Scripture, consonant with the early church, and in line with “the best reformed Churches.” Only those forms of worship expressly prescribed in the Bible, the PCUSA Directory declared, are acceptable—reading Scripture, preaching, singing psalms, and prayer—what would come to be known as the “regulative principle” of worship. At the same time, however, it provided room for differences in liturgical practice in this new country full of people from different parts of the European continent.3 The PCUSA Directory for Worship did, however, strike a more practical tone than its antecedent. Worship must be worthy to offer to God, but it should also call forth devotion from the worshiper. This seemed to result in an anti-liturgical stance and a posture of tolerance for different worship practices. Those who were concerned with the poor quality of ministerial leadership argued for including sample prayers for ministers to use—one step away from a prescribed liturgy—but they were outweighed by those who argued for greater liturgical freedom.4 The 1788 PCUSA directory instructed Presbyterians to keep the Sabbath and to engage in daily family worship. At least one chapter of Scripture was to be read in public worship and singing was encouraged; by this time, hymns were acceptable in addition to psalms. The old practice of lining out songs, where a song leader would sing one line and the congregation would repeat it, which had grown tedious for some, was gradually replaced by hymnals. Ministers were free to compose their prayers, which were to include adoration, thanksgiving, confession and request for pardon, supplication, and intercession. Furthermore, pastors were to be as concerned with developing their praying skills as they were their preaching skills, studying Scripture, engaging in personal prayer, and leading public prayer with dignity and reverence. The directory is silent on the use of the Lord’s Prayer; some churches considered it too formal and did not use it at all. When churches did use the Lord’s Prayer, only the minister spoke it.5

Theology of Worship   481 Preaching continued to be so central to Presbyterian worship that the 1788 directory cautions ministers against preaching such long sermons that other elements of worship received short shrift. Preaching was required to accompany the Lord’s Supper. Worshipers were to prepare for the sacrament, and those known to be living scandalous lives were not permitted to partake. The minister read the words of institution found in 1 Corinthians 11; worshippers gathered around or in front of the table, and the minister offered a prayer of thanksgiving of his own composition. Although the Westminster Directory called for frequent communion, the 1788 directory stated that congregations should determine for themselves how often communion would be celebrated. Although urban churches advised against the sacramental seasons, rural churches continued to enjoy them. As a result, the directory accentuates the benefits of the sacramental seasons, giving the impression that this less frequent and more dramatic celebration was more common than the regular celebrations of communion that took place in churches, usually on a quarterly basis.6

Nineteenth-Century Developments The same sort of divisions that characterized early Presbyterian worship continued in subsequent generations. Although a great deal of work and debate had gone into creating the 1788 Directory for Worship it had little influence, in large part because it permitted a wide variety of practices. During the nineteenth century, division continued between urban and rural churches over whether intellectual rigor or religious experience should be more highly valued and whether educated clergy or widespread evangelization was more important. Two schools emerged. The Old School, which emphasized decorum, insisted on the regulative principle, rejecting any worship practices not explicitly prescribed by Scripture. Preaching was expected to be well-constructed and learned, and pastoral prayers were meant to be comprehensive, lasting fifteen minutes or more. Some Old School proponents argued against the sacramental seasons and in favor of simpler, more frequent communion services, asserting that the former occasions reinforced the idea of communion being held only annually, which contrasted starkly with Calvin’s insistence on frequent communion. New School Presbyterians were much more interested in evangelism than decorum. Revivalist gatherings called “camp meetings” became popular among American Protestants, including some Presbyterians, who were attracted to the passion and energy of the events and keen on producing converts. People’s groans, shouts, prayers, singing, and laughter were interpreted as the work of the Holy Spirit. In time, however, camp meetings became controversial among Presbyterians, as Wesleyan theology and Methodist enthusiasm overshadowed Presbyterian doctrine and concern for decorum. As a result, Presbyterians were less likely to evangelize on the western frontier and more likely to continue to insist on educated clergy than were Methodists, Baptists, or Disciples. Whites and African Americans worshiped together at the camp meetings but were segregated in churches; slaves sat in an upper gallery or at the rear of the church, and

482   Kimberly Bracken Long their owners and other white attendees occupied the main part of the worship space. Slaves were more likely to worship with Baptist and Methodist congregations, however, because those churches allowed greater freedom of expression.7 Arguably the most influential revivalist was Charles Grandison Finney, a New School Presbyterian who advanced “new measures” of evangelization: passionate preaching aimed at stirring individual emotional responses, the use of an “anxious bench” where sinners would weep and pray for salvation, and a new emphasis on the spirited singing of gospel hymns. Saving souls was the most important goal of worship. These new measures led to less frequent observance of the Lord’s Supper. In many New School churches, when the sacrament was celebrated, first-time communicants (both the unbaptized and the previously baptized) were asked to make a profession of faith. This led at least one prominent opponent of this practice, Old School minister James Alexander, to protest that the sacrament took on an unacceptable Arminian emphasis, since a profession of faith was usually associated with believer’s baptism rather than the Lord’s Supper.8 Finney’s practices were widely accepted in part because of his argument that Scripture gave no directives regarding worship and that the early church did whatever was necessary to make the gospel known. In his view, each church (and therefore every minister) could decide what to do, or not do, in worship. This pragmatic approach drew criticism from Old School ministers for focusing on emotional and dramatic conversion experiences rather than the slow and steady nurture of the church’s preaching and sacraments. Finney’s evangelistic program not only proved to be controversial among Presbyterians, but it changed the face of American Christianity in ways that are still evident. Most contemporary evangelical Protestants continue to value individual spiritual experience above corporate liturgical expressions. Furthermore, Finney’s theatrical methods—the well-honed rhythms of his evangelistic sermons that appealed to the emotions, delivered in large public auditoriums devoid of Christian symbolism or liturgical furniture such as a baptismal font or communion table—were later used by popular evangelists, such as Billy Sunday in the late nineteenth century and Billy Graham in the twentieth. The use of lively, easy-to-sing, repetitive songs and a focus on praise and prayer emerged as hallmarks of “seeker services” and the praise songs of the Christian contemporary music industry. The focus of Finney’s services shifted from adoring God to saving souls, and he measured the success of his services by tallying up the number of people who were “saved” every evening. Some found his practical, results-oriented approach refreshing and forward thinking, while others denounced it as counter to the Calvinist doctrine of election. For Finney, conversions were not the results of God’s sovereign acts but rather of an individual’s exercise of free will. Revivalism was just one force fueling the nineteenth-century debate around how liturgical structured worship should be. Presbyterians also reacted to the growing prominence of the Episcopal Church in America. The New School complained that liturgical forms and texts curtailed their freedom, but Old School Presbyterians worried that the denomination was losing many upper-middle-class members who preferred a more formal way of worshiping. Meanwhile, leaders of the Mercersburg Movement (in the German Reformed Church) called for renewed study of the theology and historic practices

Theology of Worship   483 of worship. Moreover, the advent of Romanticism and Americans’ new enthusiasm for Gothic architecture reflected a yearning to restore a sense of grandeur to ecclesial life. These developments prompted Charles Baird, a young Presbyterian minister who was acquainted with both the American frontier and the European continent, to urge his colleagues to revisit the liturgical work of the denomination’s Reformed ancestors. In 1855 he published Eutaxia, or the Presbyterian Liturgies: Historical Sketches, a collection of liturgies from Calvin and Knox, as well as English, Dutch, and German Reformed liturgies. He also included some model prayers that never made it into the American Directory for Worship. Baird wanted to provide his fellow Presbyterians with a middle ground between the strict liturgical forms of the Episcopalians and the extemporaneous prayer of free church traditions. Using these liturgies was not required, but they provided norms and patterns, helping to ensure that essential elements of worship were included and offering examples of scripturally based and theologically sound prayers. Many in both the Old and New Schools viewed Baird’s book positively, and although not everyone accepted his program, his work fueled an increasing interest in liturgical forms among Presbyterians and laid the groundwork for the first American Presbyterian worship book, in 1906. Meanwhile, the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), which was established as a result of a split during the Civil War, published a revised Directory for Worship in 1894. Although it included no liturgies for Sunday worship or the Lord’s Supper, it provided forms for baptism, weddings, and funerals; these were patterns, not required liturgies, to be used as ministers saw fit.9

The Book of Common Worship At the turn of the twentieth century, the PCUSA published the first liturgical book for use among American Presbyterians, under the leadership of the Reverend Henry van Dyke. The Book of Common Worship (1906) provided prayers for Sunday worship, including the sacraments, as well as orders for weddings and funerals. It also contained prayers for important festivals of the church year, a collection of psalms and canticles, and a treasury of prayers. Furthermore, the book offered ways for worshipers to participate other than singing through responses and unison prayers. The preface clearly stated that these liturgies were neither required nor replaced the Directory for Worship; rather, the book was a supplement to the directory and an aid for ministers. The principle of balancing form and freedom remained intact and although the Book of Common Worship did not immediately revolutionize congregational worship, it did signal the PCUSA’s new interest in, and approval of, the use of a liturgical book.10 In 1932, the PCUSA published a revised and expanded Book of Common Worship, which featured additional texts for the festivals and seasons of the Christian year and a basic lectionary. This edition was adopted by the PCUS as well. A 1946 edition reflected new liturgical scholarship and the growing ecumenical movement and featured

484   Kimberly Bracken Long a­ dditional resources for congregational participation and a two-year lectionary used by the Church of Scotland. The 1970 Worshipbook reflected changes from two new directories for worship, that of the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA, a merger of PCUSA and the United Presbyterian Church in North America in 1958) in 1961 and the PCUS in 1963. Published soon after the Second Vatican Council’s liturgical reforms, the Worshipbook assumed a service of Word and Sacrament to be the pattern for Lord’s Day worship, thus changing the long-held pattern of the service leading up to the sermon, which was preached at the end of the service. The language was less formal and more colloquial, and the book included a lectionary based on that of the Roman Catholic Church. Furthermore, the Worshipbook (which also served as the church’s hymnal) contained a broader range of music, including African American spirituals and hymns from other Christian traditions. As the folk masses of the Roman Catholic Church and the burgeoning contemporary Christian music movement became more widespread, Presbyterian churches—often through the efforts of their youth—incorporated even more genres of congregational song. A decade later, the Cumberland Presbyterian Church joined with the UPCUSA in a process that culminated in publishing the 1993 Book of Common Worship. The development of this new book coincided with the 1983 reunion of the northern and southern branches of the Presbyterian Church, the UPCUSA and the PCUS, forming the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., or the PC(USA), and a revised Directory for Worship (1989). The 1993 Book of Common Worship was rooted in a long Presbyterian tradition and influenced by worship books produced by other denominations and movements: the 1978 Lutheran Book of Worship, the 1979 Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, the 1983 Common Lectionary, the 1985 Anglican Church of Canada Book of Alternative Services, the 1986 United Church of Christ Book of Worship, the 1989 Anglican New Zealand Prayer Book, the 1992 United Methodist Book of Worship, and the 1992 Revised Common Lectionary. The 1993 Book of Common Worship was, then, both Reformed and ecumenical in its approach and reflected the influence of Vatican II: the inclusion of more readings from Scripture in the Lord’s Day Service, an emphasis on participatory worship, and the insistence that both Word and Table are normative for weekly worship. A fourfold pattern of GatheringWord-Eucharist-Sending shaped the Service for the Lord’s Day. At the same time, the Book of Common Worship continued to uphold the long-standing Presbyterian commitment to balancing form and freedom, strengthened the place of the Psalms in worship, and encouraged the integration of service music—congregational responses sung at various points during the worship service, particularly during communion—into the liturgy. While the 1970 Worshipbook retained masculine language for God and people, the 1993 Book of Common Worship adopted inclusive and expansive language drawn from Scripture. The 1990 Presbyterian Hymnal similarly employed inclusive language and drew from the hymnody of other denominations and cultures to emphasize cultural diversity. A section devoted to the Psalms was included in an effort to reclaim an emphasis on psalm singing. These psalms were primarily metrical; The Psalter: Psalms

Theology of Worship   485 and Canticles for Singing (1993) greatly expanded the repertoire by making available responsorial psalms from a variety of sources. The 1993 Book of Common Worship signaled the beginning of a new sacramental emphasis in the PC(USA). Baptism is seen as a central act, explicitly related to the profession of faith (of an infant’s parents or the baptizand) and including renunciations of evil and an affirmation of faith in the form of the Apostles’ Creed. Anointing with oil is presented as an option at baptism and profession of faith (confirmation) and in services of healing and wholeness. A wide range of resources for the celebration of the Lord’s Supper, observances of the festivals and seasons of the Christian year, and a full set of services for Daily Prayer round out the book. A Book of Occasional Services containing liturgies for ordination, commissioning, and dedication was published in 1999. In 2018 the PC(USA) published a revised Book of Common Worship that took into account changes in the church and society. It is attentive to matters of racial and cultural inclusion and features services in Spanish and a guide to commonly used liturgical phrases in both Spanish and Korean. Rubrics include guidance regarding gestures, presiding from various places in the worship space (such as the font and table), and congregational movement. A complete inclusive language psalter, first published in the 2006 Evangelical Lutheran Worship, is included, as well as revisions of services that first appeared in the Book of Occasional Services. A revised Directory for Worship was also approved in 2018, and the two books were developed in concert. This directory retains the core theological values of earlier editions while helping to deepen sacramental understanding and practice. Like all the previous editions, the 2018 Book of Common Worship is recommended for use, but not required. Not all Presbyterians in America followed the same path as the PC(USA). The Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church and the Orthodox Presbyterian Church have updated their directories for worship, making clear continuities with the Westminster directory, but have not published any sort of service book containing liturgical texts. The Associate Reformed Presbyterian directory, revised in 1975 and 2007, does include a list of several service books in an appendix, but declares that they have not been approved for use. A pastor in the Presbyterian Church in America produced a version of the Book of Common Worship for his denomination that is based on the 1906, 1932, and 1946 PCUSA worship books and includes a complete psalter, the Westminster Confession, and the Shorter Catechism, but it is not being widely used.

Other Influences By the end of the twentieth century, numerous societal forces had changed the face of the American Presbyterian church. Asian and Hispanic immigrants had settled in communities around the country, and Presbyterians welcomed them into existing congregations and supported the formation of immigrant churches. Women had become

486   Kimberly Bracken Long more prominent in the leadership of the PCUSA—women’s ordination to ministry was approved in 1956—although it was still rare to see a female pastor as head of a large church staff. Furthermore, technological advances meant that churches could supplement (or replace) hymnals by projecting song lyrics onto screens or downloading newly composed songs, often led by a worship band. Soon liturgists were reading Scripture from their cell phones and ministers were preaching from their mobile devices. In Presbyterian denominations outside North America, the influences tended to be somewhat different. Since the Westminster Directory was the guiding force, theologically and liturgically, for missionaries, Presbyterian churches established in other countries were similarly shaped by those standards. PCUSA missionaries in Korea established schools, seminaries, and medical clinics in the nineteenth century; by the twentieth century, Korea had many Presbyterian denominations across a wide theological spectrum. Most, however, continued to be guided by the Westminster Standards, and the largest ones ordain women to the offices of deacon, elder, and minister.11 Korean Presbyterian worship tends to be Word-centered, with a strong emphasis on preaching and intellectual understanding, but it is also imbued with great emotion. Music is intrinsic to Korean worship, and worshipers participate robustly in singing nineteenth-century gospel hymns and contemporary Christian music. Prayer is fervent and extemporaneous, whether led by a presider or expressed in the communal tong sung kido prayer, where worshipers simultaneously offer individual prayers aloud. Missionaries from the Church of Scotland established Presbyterian congregations throughout the African continent, founding the Presbyterian Church of Nigeria (1846), the Presbyterian Church of East Africa (1891), the Presbyterian Church of Southern Africa (1897), and the Presbyterian Church of Africa (1898), among others. All adhere to the Westminster Standards, although, as is the case in other parts of the world, revivalist and Pentecostal movements have also affected worship Presbyterian worship; the praise and worship service with its fervent singing is an important spiritual expression. During the latter part of the twentieth century, drums came into use, as well as African tunes and dance movements, allowing African Presbyterians to engage in bodily worship. Community is an essential concept for the African people, and communion is a significant event in the church. Celebrations of the sacrament emphasize union with Christ and one another, the remembrance of Jesus’s suffering and death, and the anticipation of the heavenly banquet.12 Missionaries also took Presbyterianism to Central America, the Caribbean, and South America, where Catholicism is the dominant faith. In Brazil, for example, PCUSA missionaries arrived in the mid-nineteenth century, bringing with them the revivalistshaped worship of the era. Theologically, Presbyterians in Brazil were guided by the Westminster Standards; liturgically they valued spontaneity, evangelistic preaching, and an emphasis on the inner spiritual life. Anti-Catholic sentiment among Protestants further contributed to a lack of interest in formal liturgy. The mid-twentieth century saw a wave of liturgical renewal in the Independent Presbyterian Church of Brazil, culminating in the publication of Manual do Culto (Worship Handbook) in the late twentieth century. It included orders of worship for the Lord’s Day and special occasions, resources

Theology of Worship   487 for the liturgical year, information regarding the lectionary, and sung responses. Greater emphasis was given to the Lord’s Supper and psalm singing, and contemporary songs by Brazilian and other Latin American musicians are included. Although the book has been highly praised, it has not been used in many churches, in large part because of persistent anti-Catholicism and several waves of Pentecostalism, which eschews liturgical forms, that swept through the country during the twentieth century.13 Documents and liturgical books alone do not tell the whole story, however, since there is no way to know with certainty the extent to which congregations used denominational directories and the liturgies commended to them. In America and other countries, many Presbyterian churches value extemporaneous prayer and clergy-led worship over more participatory, corporate forms and prepared liturgy. Furthermore, in North America and elsewhere, Presbyterian churches have been shaped not only by inherited traditions but also by pan-denominational movements. Numerous scholars have noted the similarities between the theology and practice of nineteenth-century revivals and the rise of so-called seeker services in the twentieth. Often held in the large auditorium-like spaces of megachurches, these services aim at conversion, with easily sung choruses and energetic preaching at the core. The seeker service model spread to other churches; mainline congregations began to offer such services in addition to their “traditional” worship in hopes of attracting new members. Similarly, the contemporary Christian music movement of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries has affected many denominations. Presbyterian congregations in North America and around the world have adopted this genre of music, either as a supplement to, or replacement of, hymnody. Church leaders in Africa and Latin America sometimes bemoan the adoption of this Western form of music, concerned that it will usurp the languages and musical styles of their own countries.

Contemporary Issues Continuities as well as differences are evident in Presbyterian worship in America and around the globe. The theological tenets put forth in the Westminster Directory ­continue to undergird liturgical practice: the sovereignty of God, emphasis on divine grace, the presence of Christ, the activity of the Holy Spirit, the authority of Scripture, and the priesthood of all believers. Infant baptism continues to be practiced, although persons may be baptized at any age and by any method. In the Lord’s Supper, worshipers are united with Christ and with one another, remember the saving death of Christ, and anticipate the heavenly banquet in the coming reign of God. At the same time, Presbyterians are divided over theological matters, often based on how they interpret Scripture. Some conservative Presbyterian denominations continue to adhere to the regulative principle, allowing only worship practices that are expressly mentioned in Scripture. Those who contend that scripture is inerrant oppose women and gay and lesbian Christians serving as pastors or elders.

488   Kimberly Bracken Long Some of the same historic divisions persist between Presbyterians over whether to use a service book. In the PC(USA) for example, some churches follow the Book of Common Worship quite closely, others draw from it on occasion, and others never use it. Some churches appreciate worship marked by well-crafted liturgy, a high degree of congregational participation, and a rich sacramental life, while others follow a model of clergyled worship with extemporaneous prayer and an emphasis on preaching. Some churches value the long tradition of hymnody and choral music, some appreciate the incorporation of songs from around the world, others depend on newly composed songs for bands, and some churches use all these forms of music. Meanwhile, other liturgical developments are impacting Presbyterian denominations, as well as other communions. The visual arts are increasingly important, even among some historically iconoclastic traditions. Some more conservative Presbyterian churches continue to value the ethic of simplicity inherited from Ulrich Zwingli and, to some extent, Calvin, eschewing images or other adornments in obedience to the second commandment. Others, however, have adopted practices from other traditions, adorning pulpits and communion tables with paraments in colors related to the Christian year and claiming the power of image and symbol. Liturgical artists, professional and amateur, are creating both temporary and permanent art forms for use in worship spaces. In other churches, art takes the form of projected images or short video clips incorporated into the worship service. For some, this trend has to do with reaching a culture that has become progressively more image-focused. For others, it is related to discussions around multiple types of intelligence. Still others emphasize a concern with more embodied and holistic forms of worship that counter what some consider the overly cerebral and verbal approach to worship that is historically Presbyterian. Some Presbyterian denominations have a growing interest in reclaiming Calvin’s insistence on a balance between Word and Table in worship. In the PC(USA) for instance, overtures to the General Assembly regarding an “open table” approach to communion led to a three-year study of sacramental theology and practice. The study, published in 2006 as Invitation to Christ: Font and Table, recommends five practices: place the baptismal font in full view of the congregation each Sunday; fill the open font with water every Lord’s Day; set a cup and plate on the communion table every Sunday, whether or not the sacrament is being celebrated; lead parts of the worship service from the font and the table, as appropriate; and celebrate communion more frequently (whatever that may mean for a particular congregation). These simple acts—along with the theological and historical reflections that accompany them—are designed to deepen the sacramental awareness and practice of Presbyterian congregations. As a result of this and other efforts, in some congregations, water is being poured or lifted during parts of the service, such as the confession of sin and assurance of pardon sequence. Some pastors and lay leaders are leading intercessory prayers from the communion table—the place where the body of Christ gathers—rather than the pulpit. Some ministers give the blessing and charge from the communion table to underscore the missional nature of the church; having been fed, worshippers go to feed others. Similarly, sacramental language is woven throughout prayers and sermons.

Theology of Worship   489 The Lord’s Supper is being celebrated more frequently than it was a generation ago. In the PCUSA, for example, most churches have moved from quarterly to monthly communion; some also celebrate the sacrament on festival days in the church year. In  the second decade of the twenty-first century, a small percentage of Presbyterian churches report having a least one service (although usually not the main service) where communion is celebrated weekly. This movement is related to a broadening understanding of communion. While remembrance of Christ’s suffering and death is certainly one facet of the Lord’s Supper, Presbyterians also highlight the communal and celebratory aspect of the sacrament and look forward to the eschatological feast. Some Presbyterians are responding to leaders who urge the church to become more missional in its worship. For a long time, most Presbyterians have assumed that personal piety and social justice have little to do with each other, but in recent years many see a connection between worship and the life of discipleship. On Sundays, worshipers pray not only for the concerns of their own families and communities, but also for the care of the earth, the cessation of violence, wisdom for world leaders and others in governance, and a range of societal concerns including addiction, homelessness, and physical and sexual abuse. Presbyterians have an increasing sense of being the body of Christ that is not only gathered, but sent, and the church’s work in the world is understood as part of its worship.

Trajectories Interest in deepening sacramental theology and practice, increased attention to the missional life of the church, engagement with the visual arts, and singing an ever-expanding range of musical genres are likely to continue in Presbyterian churches for the foreseeable future. At the same time, the face of the church is changing, and the church’s forms of worship will change as well. As churches become more culturally diverse, and as immigrant churches continue to form and grow, Presbyterians need to be ever more attentive to matters of contextualization and adaptation. A century and a half after the height of the missionary movement, denominations outside the United States are increasingly interested in setting aside inherited European forms and cultivating indigenous music and practices, while continuing to uphold Presbyterian theological and liturgical principles. American Presbyterian churches are still overwhelmingly white, but some are becoming more intercultural. Others find themselves in neighborhoods in which people of different races or nationalities work to discern what it means to be the church together. This means learning from and adapting to a variety of practices, from singing new songs, to engaging in different forms of prayer, to incorporating gesture and movement. At the same time, however, immigrant and African American churches may need to remain essentially monocultural to preserve and nurture cultural identities, expressions, and values. In any case, Presbyterian churches in the twenty-first century will chart a new

490   Kimberly Bracken Long course in cultural expressions of worship, and their leaders will become increasingly nimble as churches become more intercultural. New worshiping communities are emerging in this century, some of them Presbyterian, and they are experimenting with new practices. These communities tend to be less clergy-centered and highly participatory. Worship spaces are flexible and often in nontraditional spaces such as restaurants, bars, or storefronts. Liturgy is planned, but less formal; there is often an emphasis on simple rituals such as lighting candles or praying with icons. The dinner church movement brings people together around a meal that is communally prepared and shared, during which people discuss the Word of God and share the Lord’s Supper. Even cleanup is done communally. It will be some time until these less traditional communities overshadow established churches, but these experimental practices may bear fruit as mainline Protestant churches continue to decline in membership and influence. Although Presbyterian theology and liturgical practice—as varied as that practice may be—will continue well into the twenty-first century, it will also continue to be ecumenically informed. As denominational lines blur, and communities share liturgies and songs across those lines, Presbyterians may well see a blending of traditions, where people from various parts of the body of Christ bring their best gifts to a table where all worship as one.

Notes 1. Bard Thompson, Liturgies of the Western Church (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1961), 287. 2. Julius Melton, Presbyterian Worship in America: Changing Patterns Since 1787 (Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1967), 19. 3. Stanley Robertson Hall, “The American Presbyterian ‘Directory for Worship’: History of a Liturgical Strategy” (PhD diss., University of Notre Dame, 1990), 104–105. 4. Melton, Presbyterian Worship, 21. 5. Melton, 23. 6. Melton, 26–27. 7. Marcia M. Wilfong, “Reformed Worship in the United States of America,” in Christian Worship in Reformed Churches Past and Present, ed. Lukas Vischer (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2003), 124. 8. Melton, Presbyterian Worship, 51. 9. Wilfong, “Reformed Worship,” 128. 10. Wilfong, 129. 11. James  H.  Smylie, “Presbyterianism,” in The Encyclopedia of Protestantism, ed. Hans J. Hilllerbrand (New York: Routledge, 2004), 3:1555. 12. Isaiah Wahome Muita, “Reformed Worship in East Africa,” in Vischer, Reformed Churches Past and Present, 211–213. 13. Gerson Correia de Lacerda, “Reformed Worship in Brazil,” in Vischer, Reformed Churches Past and Present, 239.

Theology of Worship   491

Bibliography Hall, Stanley Robertson. “The American Presbyterian ‘Directory for Worship’: History of a Liturgical Strategy.” PhD diss. University of Notre Dame, 1990. Long, Kimberly Bracken. The Eucharistic Theology of the American Holy Fairs. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011. Melton, Julius. Presbyterian Worship in America: Changing Patterns Since 1787. Richmond, VA: John Knox Press, 1967. Pak, Su Yon, Unzu Lee, Jung Ha Kim, and Myung Ji Cho. Singing the Lord’s Song in a New Land: Korean American Practices of Faith. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2005. Smylie, James  H. “Presbyterianism.” In The Encyclopedia of Protestantism. Edited by Hans J. Hillerbrand. Vol. 3: 1555: L–R New York: Routledge, 2004. Thompson, Bard. Liturgies of the Western Church. Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1961. Vischer, Lukas, ed. Christian Worship in Reformed Churches Past and Present. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2003.

chapter 30

H ym nody a n d Lit u rgy Jonathan Hehn

Historical Introduction As with their systematic theology, Presbyterians owe much of their liturgical theology and practice to John Calvin. His work as an author and compiler not only shaped worship at the churches in Strasbourg, (present-day France), and Geneva, Switzerland, but, through his influence on contemporary British reformers, the entire Presbyterian world. After some experimentation with sung psalmody and liturgical texts early in his pastoral career, Calvin published La forme des prières et chants ecclésiastiques in 1542, known colloquially in English as the Form of Prayers. Inspired by the work of earlier Swiss reformers, Calvin’s La forme des prieres has provided a long-standing liturgical standard for Presbyterians for both the order of service and the use of music. There were actually two versions of the La forme des prieres—an initial 1542 edition from Geneva and an edition published in Strasbourg in 1545. The worship order from Calvin as translated later by Knox is shown below. The italicized items were sung. The orders for Baptism and the Lord’s Supper in Calvin’s books were included as an addendum, to be inserted into the Sunday liturgy when needed. The Lord’s Supper has been included in Knox’s order below to show its relative simplicity, a feature that came to mark Presbyterian celebrations of the Supper. Despite Calvin’s wish that the Lord’s Supper be celebrated weekly, that is not the pattern Presbyterians inherited. After Calvin’s negotiations with the Geneva town council, quarterly celebration was implemented. This was, however, a significant increase in the number of times people partook of the sacrament. Despite daily celebration of the Mass in most places, congregants in the late Middle Ages often communed only once a year, at Easter.1 According to Calvin’s rite, baptism was also to be celebrated during Sunday liturgies. This indicated an intentional shift away from the practice of private baptisms that was common during the late Middle Ages, a change also desired by Martin Luther and Martin Bucer. However, the practice of infant baptism remained, and Presbyterians continue to baptize infants today. This differs from the churches of the Anabaptist traditions,

494   jonathan hehn which restricted baptism to older “believers.” Calvin, Bucer, and Unlrich Zwingli all defended the practice of infant baptism in their writings.2 The psalms sung in Calvinist churches were metrical paraphrases. Though Christians have always sung Psalms in Christian worship, metrical psalmody in the sixteenth century was an altogether new way of singing them. Metrical psalms first became popular in the French royal court and then later among francophone reformers like Calvin who encountered them. Important early collections of metrical psalms appeared in Strasbourg and Geneva under his tutelage.3 In Calvinist churches, metrical psalms were the primary means by which the congregation actively participated in Sunday services, sung monophonically without accompaniment. They became vitally important to the spiritual life of the emerging Reformed churches and were widely disseminated. In 1562 the so-called Genevan Psalter appeared, a landmark collection containing all 150 biblical Psalms plus canticles. Its contents continue to influence the hymnals of Presbyterian denominations today.4 Although psalmody was the primary music used in Calvin’s two congregations, other texts were also regularly sung. La forme des prieres itself included sung settings of the Lord’s Prayer, The Apostle’s Creed, and the Ten Commandments. The first two of these are traditional liturgical texts that are not, strictly speaking, biblical. Noting that exception is important for understanding Calvin’s approach to the so-called regulative principle, which was not as strict as some others.5

Calvinist Liturgy Comes to Britain Where Calvin served as pastor, his liturgy was almost certainly used. Churches served by other Swiss reformers, such as Zwingli, Bucer, and Johannes Oecolampadius, used liturgies they composed, but Calvin’s La forme des prieres became the model liturgy for Presbyterians, especially English-speaking ones. The order of service drawn up by a group of Anglicans and some stricter Calvinist exiles in Frankfurt in 1554, before Scottish minister John Knox’s arrival there, is the probably the first English-language service that is distinctively Presbyterian. It clearly follows the pattern offered by Calvin:6 Scripture sentence and exhortation Confession of sins Psalm Prayer for the Holy Spirit [Scripture Reading]7 Sermon Prayer Lord’s Prayer The Apostle’s Creed Psalm Blessing

hymnody and liturgy   495 During his second sojourn in Geneva, Knox produced his English version of Calvin’s liturgy, known as the Form of Prayers (1556). As with Calvin, it was assumed that the Lord’s Supper was to be celebrated less often than weekly, but in Knox’s case, monthly: Confession of sins Psalm Prayer for illumination [Scripture Reading and] Sermon Offering Long Prayer Lord’s Prayer Apostle’s Creed {Baptism} {Lord’s Supper}   {Words of Institution}  {Exhortation/Invitation}   {Thanksgiving Over the Elements}   {Distribution of Elements}   {Scripture Sentences}   {Prayer of Thanksgiving} Psalm {Psalm 103} Blessing Following the pattern established by Calvin, metrical psalms were the only music used for worship in the English-speaking congregation in Geneva. Metrical psalmody thus served as the basis for all church music in the Presbyterian tradition. The use of metrical psalmody in the sixteenth century enabled worshippers to sing in their own language using easily vocalized melodies in a contemporary musical idiom. Metrical psalms, as vernacular music, served not only practical and devotional functions during worship but also a catechetical one. Metrical psalmody had drawbacks, however. Translating biblical Psalms into French or English meter is challenging because of the linguistic differences from Hebrew. Nevertheless, metrical psalmody served as the sole music of Reformed communities for well over two hundred years.

John Knox and The Book of Common Order Knox’s Form of Prayers is probably the single most important liturgical work in the Presbyterian tradition, because it is the one that Knox brought back with him from Geneva to Scotland. It was adapted for use in the Church of Scotland and published in 1562 as part of The Book of Common Order, which served as the official prayer book of

496   jonathan hehn the nascent Church of Scotland. A revised and expanded edition was produced in 1564 and widely disseminated. Also in 1562, The Whole Booke of Psalmes was published; it was the first complete metrical psalter in English, with texts by Thomas Sternhold and John Hopkins. Sometimes colloquially referred to as the Old Version, or Day’s Psalter, after the publisher of the 1562 edition, Sternhold and Hopkins was the standard English psalter until the turn of the eighteenth century and was still widely used for decades thereafter. It was probably also the standard in Scotland until 1650, when The Scottish Psalter was published by the Scottish General Assembly for use in the Church of Scotland. The 1650 Scottish Psalter eventually became the metrical version of the Psalms used by most Presbyterians in Scotland, England, and beyond. It formed the basis for later North American collections, notably, various editions of the Book of Praise that is still used today by the Presbyterian Church in Canada. The Book of Common Order was generally used for worship in the Church of Scotland until 1644. It is the foundational liturgy for all the Presbyterian traditions the Scottish church produced, including nearly all the Presbyterian denominations in North America and ones later founded by missionaries to South America, East Asia, and elsewhere. However, Presbyterians in the British colonies never used this liturgy because in 1644, The Book of Common Order was supplanted by the Westminster Directory for the Public Worship of God.

The Westminster Assembly Convened in London in 1643, the Westminster Assembly was made up of leading theologians from throughout the kingdoms of England and Scotland, along with members of the English Parliament. Its aim was to unify the Church throughout the two kingdoms, including in matters of worship. Unlike the reformers at the Council of Trent (1545–1563), those at the Westminster Assembly decided to achieve liturgical unity without uniformity by publishing a directory for worship. Its main goal was not to provide a uniform liturgy with fixed texts and actions, but to outline the theological underpinnings of worship and to provide only a basic liturgical structure, some sample texts, and extensive rubrics. In those respects, a directory is similar to the ordines (books offering instruction for how to conduct public worship) found in ecclesiastical antiquity. The directory produced by the Westminster Assembly in 1644 is known as the Westminster Directory. The Westminster Directory provided many model texts, as well as a clear and distinct order of worship. It also, however, allowed local ministers and congregations a great deal of latitude. This enabled the relatively brief Westminster Directory to govern the worship of the England and Scotland despite their disagreements on many issues of worship.8 The directory outlined the following order of worship. The items in italics were sung. As with Knox and Calvin’s books, it included the order for Lord’s Supper as an addendum. It is inserted here for easier comparison with Knox’s and Calvin’s liturgies.9

hymnody and liturgy   497 Prayer of Invocation Old Testament Scripture Reading New Testament Scripture Reading Psalm Prayer before the Sermon Sermon {Baptism} {Lord’s Supper}  {Exhortation/Invitation}   {Words of Institution}   {Thanksgiving Over the Elements}   {Distribution of Elements}   {Scripture Sentences} Prayer of Thanksgiving   Lord’s Prayer Psalm [Offering] Dismissal/Blessing After the restoration of the monarchy in Britain in 1660, the Book of Common Prayer was again used in England. Scotland, though, whose divines had long objected to the Book of Common Prayer, retained the use of the Westminster Directory. Not until the middle of the nineteenth century did The Book of Common Order reappear in the Church of Scotland, and even then, it did so as an experimental resource rather than a compulsory liturgy. All those congregations stemming from the Church of Scotland in the United States, Canada, and elsewhere thus inherited the Westminster Directory rather than a prayer book, along with its prescribed order of worship. Presbyterians in North America generally worshiped according to that directory during the late seventeenth, eighteenth, and most of the nineteenth centuries, until evangelical and liturgical movements began working for change. However, the long-standing heritage of the directory made change difficult to accomplish. Reformers who sought to return Presbyterians to their liturgical roots encountered great difficulties when attempting to re-introduce a service book; evangelical reformers were sharply criticized by more “orthodox” Calvinists for their decidedly antipuritanical approach to worship.

Changes in the Nineteenth Century The Second Great Awakening (c. 1800–1840) had a profound influence on North American Presbyterians. Historically, worship in Calvinist traditions had, as mentioned, largely focused on doxology, the praise of an “immortal, invisible God.” It had also focused on preaching as an edifying, largely cognitive activity. Presbyterian

498   jonathan hehn ­ orship under the Westminster Directory had long been devoid of any accoutrements w perceived as vain or frivolous, such as visual art or instrumental music. Evangelicalism radically disrupted that historic norm, as numerous pastors accepted new ideas connecting worship directly to evangelism.10 Where doxology and edification were previously the overarching concepts governing worship, evangelical Presbyterian pastors sought to craft services that were “effectual,” that had an intentional and potent effect on the worshipper, leading her or him to a conversion experience. Services were also designed to be attractive to newcomers, similar to today’s “seeker friendly” ones. The shift toward effectual worship in the nineteenth century had several practical consequences. First, music was changed to reflect contemporary trends. Evangelically minded pastors favored using new hymn texts that were not explicitly based on Scripture in the way that metrical psalms are. Instruments, especially the organ, began to be introduced to help lead singing and to produce a more devotional atmosphere. Amateur choirs began to be employed, and some professional quartets began to appear. Second, church buildings began to change, shifting away from simple, colonial meeting-house styles toward the fashionable Greek revival, or later Gothic revival styles. Moreover, churches were decorated to appear homelike and inviting.11 Third, preaching was strongly emphasized, and its style shifted. Revivalists such as Charles Grandison Finney showed a remarkable commitment to effectual worship, even if that meant moving beyond Calvinist orthodoxy in preaching. When the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA) divided over a variety of issues including Finney’s “New Measures” for revivalism in 1837, those who embraced his approach formed the New School branch of the PCUSA. In short, the erudite, thoroughly doxological, and in many ways puritanical characteristics long associated with American Presbyterian worship were challenged by a movement that favored evangelism over edification and emphasized direct, effectual engagement of the people in worship. The puritanical heritage of the Westminster Directory was becoming a mere memory for those Presbyterians. Though the evangelical movement did radically change the style and aesthetics of Presbyterian worship, the order of worship stayed essentially consistent with the Westminster Directory during this period. However, a separate and concurrent liturgical movement was also growing throughout Protestantism. This liturgical movement also sought to reform Presbyterian worship, but from a different perspective. In the United States, the liturgical movement was largely associated with the Old School branch of the PCUSA. Influential pastors and professors associated with this movement wished to reclaim the early Reformed heritage of prescribed forms and texts, and to thus also move beyond the Westminster Directory. One of the milestone publications of the liturgical movement in the United States was Charles Baird’s Eutaxia (1855). Not intended for liturgical use, Eutaxia was a collection of historical Reformed liturgies meant to dispel the prevailing sentiment that Presbyterians had never possessed a liturgy. Soon, the denomination began discerning whether the introduction of a service book might be a worthwhile endeavor.12 After decades of debate and work, the first official Presbyterian liturgical book, The Book of

hymnody and liturgy   499 Common Worship, was published in the United States in 1906 for voluntary use by churches.13 Presbyterians in Scotland meanwhile embraced the liturgical movement in the nineteenth century via the Church Service Society. Its 1867 publication Euchologion; or A Book of Common Order, being Forms of Worship issued by the Church Service Society, was essentially a trial liturgy called for by the Scottish General Assembly and the precursor to the modern editions of The Book of Common Order used today. No matter how much they favored restoring liturgical books to their church, Presbyterian liturgical reformers could not simply disregard The Westminster Directory, which was part of church law. Those who prepared and published books were careful to showed how they were consistent with the principles in the directory and emphasized the freedoms it allowed on a local level. Doing so helped preserve a balance between form and freedom, which Presbyterians have always cherished. Allowing liturgical books to be used alongside the Westminster Directory did achieve such balance; this system, which most Presbyterians still use, is known as “discretionary liturgy.” On the one hand, the discretionary liturgy model gives congregations the freedom to adapt to local cultural contexts and to respond to important events in the life of their communities. On the other hand, it permits pastors or other congregational leaders who are not welltrained or thoughtful liturgists to sometimes make ill-informed choices about worship. As the evangelical and liturgical movements of the nineteenth century dramatically transformed Presbyterian worship, the Westminster Directory, which had remained substantially the same since the 1640s, became increasingly out of sync with Presbyterian thinking about and practices of worship. In the twentieth century, both the PCUSA and the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS) drafted essentially new directories for worship. Those documents, much more carefully structured and comprehensive than the Westminster Directory, assembled the theological fruit of both the evangelical and liturgical movements, which brought Presbyterian thought about worship closer in line with practice. After the merger of the two Presbyterian bodies in 1983, the directory was revised again, and it continues to be revised occasionally as the denomination develops.14 The Westminster Directory still technically guides the Church of Scotland. However, it has not been strictly adhered to for many decades. Over the decades, general assemblies have broadened its interpretation through legislation, and modern editions of The Book of Common Order have been in use for some time.15 Presbyterians in other parts of the world still tend to be more liturgically free; worship in most places is guided only by a directory and not by comprehensive service books.16 Many smaller, more conservative Presbyterian denominations in North America, such as the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) and the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, continue to eschew liturgical books, and rely solely on a directory. But some denominations, such as the Presbyterian Church in Ireland and the PCA, do provide simple collections of occasional services, especially weddings, funerals, baptisms, and ordinations. The United Church of Canada and the Church of South India, both union churches that have absorbed previously independent Presbyterian denominations,

500   jonathan hehn publish full liturgical books of similar scope to the Book of Common Worship and the Book of Common Order.

Hymnals and the Liturgical Movement Though the evangelical movement greatly impacted Presbyterian hymnody, the early decades of the liturgical movement did not. Both movements started in a period when use of a denominational hymnal was not expected of all Presbyterian congregations, even though they had been available since at least 1830.17 Presbyterians, like most other denominations, tended instead to sing from several independently published hymnals in that era. Neither these independent hymnals nor those officially sanctioned by the denomination were meant to coordinate with liturgical worship. Most hymnals of the period were structured topically rather than liturgically, and they contained few, if any, pieces of service music.18 However, as Presbyterians began to grow more liturgically aware, hymnals began changing as well. The most important North American hymnologist of the late nineteenth century was PCUSA pastor Louis Benson. Among his many important works is The Hymnal of 1895, which was not only an important leap forward in musicological standards, but its contents anticipated the liturgical structures that were becoming more accepted among Presbyterians. Benson’s work heavily influenced the field of hymnology and hymnal publishing both within and beyond the Presbyterian tradition.19 Several Presbyterian hymnals published after The Hymnal carried forward his pioneering work.

The Twentieth Century Though The Hymnal of 1895 was liturgically structured,20 hymnals and liturgical books in both the PCUSA and the PCUS continued to be developed separately through the 1950s. During this period three editions of the Book of Common Worship and four new Presbyterian hymnals appeared. The situation was similar in Canada, where Presbyterians published a Book of Common Order in 1922, after a separate hymnal, The Book of Praise, was released in 1918. After 1925, most Presbyterian congregations in Canada were absorbed into the United Church of Canada, but a continuing Presbyterian denomination uses the latest edition of The Book of Praise. The order of worship in the 1906 Book of Common Worship of the PCUSA, the first book of its kind, shows the incredible change in Presbyterian worship that had occurred during the nineteenth century. Its order is more complex than that of The Westminster Directory, and it is also intentionally diverse in its sources. The order listed below uses verbatim the headings found in the order for the Sunday “Morning Service.” The items in brackets are either included as rubrical instructions or are lacking a heading in the

hymnody and liturgy   501 1906 edition. Items meant to be sung are indicated with italics. Note that the Lord’s Supper would normally be observed quarterly, as has been done since Geneva. [Doxology/Hymn/Psalm] Scripture Sentences The Invocation The Confession of Sins The Assurance of Pardon  [Dialogue]21 The Psalter   Gloria Patri The Public Reading of Holy Scriptures   [Old Testament Reading]   [Anthem or Response]   [New Testament Reading] A Hymn of Praise The Creed The General Prayer The Lord’s Prayer The Offering   A Prayer of Dedication A Hymn The Sermon A Hymn The Closing Prayer The Benediction The 1906 book was revised in 1932, at which time the PCUS also sanctioned its use. However, neither edition was as widely used as their successor, the Book of Common Worship of 1946. Most Presbyterians embraced the 1946 book. Perhaps it was because The Westminster Directory had largely been ignored following the evangelical and liturgical reform movements of the nineteenth century, or perhaps it was because of the growing sense that further liturgical reforms were needed. In any case, many congregations adopted the 1946 Book of Common Worship. The order of worship from that book is [Hymn] Call to Worship [Prayer of] Adoration Confession Assurance of Pardon Psalter   [Gloria Patri] First Scripture Lesson

502   jonathan hehn Hymn or Anthem Second Scripture Lesson The Creed Hymn or Anthem Prayer   Lord’s Prayer Offering Doxology or Prayer of Dedication Hymn or Anthem [Prayer for Illumination] Sermon [Ascription of Praise] Hymn Benediction The continued fervor of the liturgical movement and, especially, the ecumenical energy generated by the Second Vatican Council (1962–1965), led to the publication in 1970 of the first combined Presbyterian service book and hymnal, The Worshipbook. North American Presbyterians had until this time always published their hymnals separately from their worship books. Indeed, in most instances there had been little coordination between the two. By seeking to coordinate its musical content and its services, The Worshipbook made a radical shift. It also used modern English, which affected both sung and spoken texts. Finally, and most importantly, its liturgies emphasized sacramental practice. The Worshipbook, unlike any of its predecessors, assumed that weekly celebration of the Lord’s Supper should be the norm. The Service for the Lord’s Day from The Worshipbook is Call to Worship   Scripture Sentences [Psalm/Hymn] Confession of Sin Declaration of Pardon  [Dialogue] Prayer for Illumination/[Collect for the Day] Old Testament Lesson [Anthem/Canticle/Psalm] New Testament Lesson(s) Sermon [Invitation] Creed [Hymn] Concerns of the Church Prayers of the People

hymnody and liturgy   503 The Peace Offering   [Anthem or other appropriate music] [Hymn or Doxology] [Lord’s Supper]   Invitation to the Lord’s Table   The Thanksgiving    [Distribution of Elements]   [Scripture Sentences]   [Psalms or Hymns]    [Prayer of Thanksgiving] [Hymn] Dismissal/Blessing The Worshipbook was groundbreaking for American Presbyterians, but it was not popular. Many congregations continued to use the 1946 Book of Common Worship along with The Hymnbook of 1955. Toward the end of the twentieth century, an effort to produce a wellcoordinated yet separate hymnal and service book resulted in The Presbyterian Hymnal of 1990 and the 1993 Book of Common Worship, as well as two slightly later supplementary collections of Psalms and service music. The latest Book of Common Worship, which was published in 2018, is a fully mature service book that reflects the fruits of over one hundred fifty years of liturgical renewal. The outline of its Service for the Lord’s Day is below. The four main headings outline the fourfold ordo reflected in nearly every liturgical book published after Vatican II. Gathering   Call to Worship   Prayer of the Day or Opening Prayer   Hymn of Praise, Psalm, or Spiritual   Confession and Pardon   The Peace   Canticle, Psalm, Hymn, or Spiritual The Word   Prayer for Illumination   First Reading   Psalm   Second Reading   Anthem, Hymn, Psalm, Canticle, or Spiritual   Gospel Reading  Sermon  Invitation   Hymn, Canticle, Psalm, or Spiritual   Affirmation of Faith

504   jonathan hehn   {Pastoral Rite of the Church}22   Prayers of the People The Eucharist  Offering   [Psalm, Hymn of Praise, Doxology, or Spiritual]   Invitation to the Lord’s Table   Great Thanksgiving   Lord’s Prayer   Breaking of the Bread   Communion of the People Sending   Hymn, Spiritual, Canticle, or Psalm   Charge and Blessing A new Presbyterian hymnal, Glory to God, published in 2013, shows the strong influence of global music on Presbyterian hymnody. It also incorporates much of the musical accomplishments included in its predecessor volumes from the 1990s. Smaller Presbyterian denominations continue to use more theologically conservative hymnals published in the latter part of the twentieth century that emphasize Psalm singing.

Conclusion Presbyterian liturgy and hymnody both have deep Calvinist roots. Presbyterians inherited their tradition of metrical psalmody as well as the basic structure of their Sunday worship in the sixteenth century from Calvin. In that same century John Knox brought Calvin’s liturgical practices to the Church of Scotland with his Book of Common Order, laying the groundwork for Presbyterian liturgy and hymnody in Scotland and across the United Kingdom. The seventeenth century saw the first great transformation of Presbyterian worship in the kingdoms of England and Scotland, when the Westminster Directory supplanted Knox’s Book of Common Order. A remarkably durable document, the directory was used by Presbyterians in the British colonies, including the future United States, through the nineteenth century. However, during the middle part of the nineteenth century, evangelical and liturgical movements catalyzed major changes in the way Presbyterians worshiped, and by the end of the century, the Westminster Directory was all but ignored as a standard for worship. Around the turn of the twentieth century, Presbyterians published both their first modern service book, The Book of Common Worship, and a major new hymnal edited by Louis Benson. Those books were followed by several successor volumes over the course of the twentieth century, and a new, modern Directory for Worship was drafted in 1961 and thoroughly revised after the formation of the Presbyterian Church U.S.A. in 1983. While some more conservative Presbyterian denominations in the Americas and beyond continue the tradition of

hymnody and liturgy   505 exclusive metrical psalmody and use of a simple worship directory, most Presbyterians today embrace a mode of worship that, though faithful to their Calvinist heritage, is robustly liturgical. Both the evangelical and liturgical movements continue to exert a strong influence, as does the ecumenical fervor of the Second Vatican Council. The future of Presbyterian liturgy and hymnody will no doubt be shaped by those same influences as the church, reformed yet always reforming, seeking to live in fidelity both to its heritage and to God’s will moving forward.

Notes 1. Even after Calvin’s reforms, there were still barriers to admission to the Supper. Early Presbyterians engaged in the widespread practice of issuing “communion tokens.” The practice waned by the end of the nineteenth century. 2. For a good overview of baptismal practice in the sixteenth century see Maxwell E. Johnson, The Rites of Christian Initiation (Collegeville, MN: Liturgical Press, 2007), 309. Specifically on  the Reformed tradition, see Hughes Oliphant Old, The Shaping of  the  Reformed Baptismal Rite in the Sixteenth Century (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans), 1992. 3. Aulcuns pseaulmes et cantiques mys en chant (Strasbourg, 1539) and Les pseaumes mis en rime françois, par Clement Marot & Théodore de Bèze (Geneva, 1562). 4. A concise but useful history is found in David Music and Milburn Price, A Survey of Christian Hymnody (Carol Stream, IL: Hope Publishing, 2010), 47–59. 5. Use of the regulative principle is one of the hallmarks of Presbyterian worship. A strict “regulative principle” of worship essentially says that Christian worship must be encompass only that which is explicitly affirmed in the Bible. In historical practice, it is sometimes narrowly applied, resulting in worship that rejects anything not explicitly affirmed in the Christian Scriptures. Such was the case when Puritan reformers reshaped worship practices in seventeenth-century Britain. More often, the regulative principle has been loosely applied, so that worship is “reformed according to Scripture,” but not necessarily bound by it. Calvin, along with other early continental reformers, tended to take this looser approach, allowing many things to continue being said, sung, and done that were considered edifying to the Church. 6. William Maxwell, The Liturgical Portions of the Genevan Service Book (Edinburgh: Oliver and Boyd, 1931), 4. 7. The information in brackets indicates an item that is implicitly called for in the Westminster Directory. Items in braces indicate liturgical elements that are referred to in the directory without specifying a particular heading. 8. See Stanley R. Hall, “American Presbyterians and the Directory for Worship, 1645–1989,” American Presbyterians 72 (1994): 71–85. 9. Different scholarly resources sometimes give slightly different orders than the one listed here. The discrepancy is because the Westminster Directory itself is written mostly in prose format and writers sometimes used different terms to refer to the same action. 10. See Mark Noll, The Rise of Evangelicalism: The Age of Edwards, Whitefield, and the Wesleys (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 2003). 11. See Jeanne Halgren Kilde, When Church Became Theatre: The Transformation of Evangelical Architecture and Worship in Nineteenth-Century America (New York: Oxford University Press), 2002.

506   jonathan hehn 12. See Harold Daniels, To God Alone Be Glory: The Story and Sources of the Book of Common Worship (Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2003). 13. The Book of Common Worship (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-School Work, 1906). 14. As part of the constitution of the PC(USA), the Directory for Worship is authoritative. Preface to W1.0000, The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), Part 2: Book of Order (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2015). 15. Fraser McNaughton, Minister of Saint Magnus Cathedral, via Bill Bess, Pastor of First Presbyterian Church of Havana, Florida, Facebook Messenger communication with the author, February 22, 2017. 16. See Lukas Vischar, ed., Christian Worship in Reformed Churches Past and Present (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2003). 17. The Presbyterian Church in the United States of America produced its first official hymnal in 1830, which was Psalms and Hymns Adapted to Public Worship (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication, 1830). 18. Service music is any short piece that is essentially a sung part of the liturgy, such as Greatorex’s setting of the Gloria Patri. 19. See Paul Richard Powell, Louis F. Benson, the 1985 Presbyterian Hymnal and TwentiethCentury American Hymnody (PhD diss., Drew University, 1998). 20. For instance, the section of the hymnal with the heading “Jesus Christ Our Lord” is subdivided into “The Advent,” “The Nativity,” “The Epiphany,” etc. The Hymnal (Philadelphia: Presbyterian Board of Publication and Sabbath-School Work, 1896), ix. 21. This is a sort of short responsory or versicle said after the assurance of pardon. 22. The book lists these as “confirming and commissioning, or other reaffirmation of the baptismal covenant, reception of new members, ordination, installation, marriage” (1993 Book of Common Worship, 65).

Bibliography Daniels, Harold. To God Alone Be Glory: The Story and Sources of the Book of Common Worship. Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2003. Daw, Carol. Glory to God: A Companion. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2016. Duba, Arlo. Presbyterian Worship in the Twentieth Century with a Focus on the Book of Common Worship. White Sulphur Springs, WV: OSL Publications, 2012. Hall, Stanley R. “American Presbyterians and the Directory for Worship, 1645–1989.” American Presbyterians 72 (1994): 71–85. Macleod, Donald. Presbyterian Worship: Its Meaning and Method. Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1980. Melton, Julius. Presbyterian Worship in America: Changing Patterns since 1787. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2001. Reynolds, William Jensen, David Music, and Milburn Price. A Survey of Christian Hymnody. Carol Stream, IL: Hope Publishing, 2010. Old, Hughes Oliphant. Worship That Is Reformed according to Scripture. Atlanta, GA: John Knox Press, 1984. Vischer, Lukas, ed. Christian Worship in Reformed Churches Past and Present. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2003.

chapter 31

Pr esby ter i a n Pr eachi ng Thomas G. Long

Introduction The Presbyterian Church derives its name from its form of church government, one in which the worship, life, and mission of the church are overseen by a council of elected leaders known as presbyters or elders (elder = presbuteros in New Testament Greek). But Presbyterianism is not simply a structure of church governance. It is also a particular way of Christian life woven from distinctive strands of theology, worship, and mission. Presbyterian preaching, though it shares much in terms of history, m­ethods, and purposes with the preaching of other Christian groups, nonetheless bears a distinguishing stamp derived from its peculiar way of Christian life and its theological tradition.

The Roots of Presbyterian Preaching Presbyterian theology, and therefore Presbyterian preaching, is rooted in the Reformation, particularly in the thought of the French reformer John Calvin. Calvin helped spur a reawakening of the power of the Bible, a renewal supported by the several vernacular translations of the Bible that appeared at the time. For Calvin, the biblical word took root in the lives of people primarily through preaching. When Calvin described

508   thomas g. long the proper elements of Christian worship—preaching, prayer, the Lord’s Supper, and alms—it is no accident that he named “preaching of the Word” first. As historian James Hastings Nichols said, “Whatever else it was the Reformation was a great preaching revival, probably the greatest in the history of the Christian church,” one that went “hand in hand with the rediscovery of the Bible”1 For Calvin, said Nichols, God’s greatest gift to the church is the preaching of the good news which is mighty to save, alive with blessing and judgment. The preacher of grace is performing the most important act [anyone] can accomplish in this life. The fruitful hearing of the Word is the greatest blessing any of us will know in this life.2

The act of preaching was so important in Calvin’s view, that it took on a quasi-sacramental character. Preaching the Word of God was not simply to speak a message about the scripture; preaching was a form of God’s revelation in the same sense that scripture was a form of divine revelation. The Second Helvetic Confession, a Reformed statement of faith authored in the 1560s by Calvin’s colleague Heinrich Bullinger of Basel, asserts: “The preaching of the Word of God is the Word of God.”3

Reformation Views of Preaching Become Presbyterian Views Reformation ideas, including convictions about the status of preaching, soon spread to the British Isles, generating considerable controversy in the established church. In 1643, during a time of mounting political and ecclesiastical turmoil, the British Parliament addressed the conflict by gathering the Westminster Assembly of Divines, a group of 151 clergy and Parliament members who were charged with settling the disputes over church governance and worship in ways “most agreeable to God’s Holy Word and most apt to procure the peace of the church at home and nearer abroad.”4 By the time the Westminster Assembly finished its work in 1649, it had created five documents that became known collectively as the “Westminster Standards.” Each standard mentions the nature and importance of preaching. In Scotland, where the reformer John Knox, who had studied with Calvin in Geneva, had brought Calvinist theology to the country a century earlier, the Scottish Parliament quickly adopted the Westminster Standards by for use in the Church of Scotland, making the Westminster Standards the Presbyterian standards. Only when the Westminster Standards were adopted did the Church of Scotland definitively become a Presbyterian body in form, theology, and practice, and preaching was a central theme that ran throughout the Westminster documents. The Westminster documents both express the core Presbyterian convictions about preaching in the middle of the seventeenth century and were influential in shaping the subsequent history of the Presbyterian pulpit.

presbyterian preaching   509

Preaching in the Westminster Standards The Larger Catechism, for example, includes this question-and-answer exchange that displays the dynamic connection between scripture and preaching: q.  155. How is the Word made effectual to salvation? a. The Spirit of God maketh the reading, but especially the preaching of the Word, an effectual means of enlightening, convincing, and humbling sinners, of driving them out of themselves, and drawing them unto Christ, of conforming them to his image, and subduing them to his will; of strengthening them against temptations and corruptions; of building them up in grace, and establishing their hearts in holiness and comfort through faith unto salvation.5

This dialogue underscores the revelatory function of preaching. The Holy Spirit does the work—enlightening, convincing, humbling, and so on—but the Spirit accomplishes this work in and through preaching. In other words, preaching is an instrument of divine activity. The most sustained treatment of preaching in the Westminster Standards is in the “Directory for Public Worship,” a document concerned with the practical aspects of congregational worship. A section titled “Of the Preaching of the Word,” presents a basic picture of early Presbyterian preaching.6 First, the Directory provides a portrait of the kind of minister who is equipped to preach. He (and, at that point, all clergy were male), was to be broadly educated. He not only was to have “skill in the original languages” of the Bible—Hebrew and Greek—but he was not to be a mere Bible exhorter. He was to be versed also in the arts and sciences, which were thought of as “handmaids to divinity.” He was to be steeped “in the whole body of theology,” especially the scriptures, and he was to be, in both head and heart, even more deeply committed to the faith than “the common sort of believers . . . walking before his flock as an example to them.” For Presbyterians, this ideal of the preacher as a learned, broadly educated person of deep and obedient faith endures. In contrast to preachers who spoke extemporaneously, the Directory advises Presbyterian preachers not to convey the impression that they are not fully prepared. Instead, both the preparation and delivery of the sermon were to spring from rigorous study and substantial prayer. The Directory insists that Presbyterian preaching be based on biblical texts. Two different patterns for biblical preaching are recognized. Ordinarily, the preacher would begin with a single biblical passage and seek to either illumine its main theme or idea or, when his sermon was preached on a special occasion, show the connection between that text and that occasion. The Directory also approves of a second approach, namely lectio continua, the practice of preaching through “some chapter, psalm, or book of holy scripture.” The Directory also presents clear and firm ideas about how sermons should be structured. Guided by the philosophical and rhetorical ideas of the French Reformed

510   thomas g. long philosopher Peter Ramus, the Directory guided preachers toward, if not a three-point sermon, at least a sermon in three phases: doctrine, reason, and use. In the first section of the sermon, the doctrine phase, the preacher named the theological truths in the biblical text. In this phase, the preacher should make sure that the doctrine he discusses is sound theology, that it actually is in the biblical text being proclaimed, and that it is an important truth, not a peripheral issue that had caught his fancy. In the second section of the sermon, the reason phase, the preacher, like a good teacher, makes a case, using illustrations and arguments, for the truths articulated in the doctrine phase. If the preacher knows of doubts or prejudices against the doctrine among his hearers, he should address them here, being careful not inadvertently to cause damage to his parishioners by engaging disputes long settled, thereby raising “an old heresy from the grave.” It is not enough, though, for the preacher to proclaim and defend sound doctrine. The sermon is not complete until the truths of scripture have taken root in the hearts, minds, and lives of the hearers. This use or application phase is the hardest task of preaching, the Directory admits, but it is the most needed. The sermon should be free of fancy words or verbal pyrotechnics so that the hearers, regardless of their education or sophistication, could grasp it. It was to be delivered “gravely,” by which the Directory meant using not a funereal style but one that was free from gimmicks of voice or body that called attention to the preacher at the expense of the Word. Indeed, when preaching, a pastor must be vigilant not seek attention, gratification, or approval but focus instead on “the honor of Christ, [and] the conversion, edification, and salvation of the people.” When Augustine wrote his own instructions for preaching in Book IV of On Christian Doctrine, he argued (borrowing a phrase from the classical rhetorician Cicero) that the purpose of a sermon was to teach, to delight, and to persuade, and the Directory, though it accentuated the teaching aim of preaching, underscored the other two goals as well.7 To teach effectively, his “doctrine is to be expressed in plain terms. The sermon’s illustrations “ought to be full of light . . . as may convey the truth into the believer’s heart with spiritual delight.” The preacher must not treat doctrine as an abstract truth but instead exercise persuasion by bringing “it home to special use, by application to his hearers.”8 As Presbyterian preaching evolved during subsequent generations, it has largely retained the biblical grounding, doctrinal seriousness, and didactic purpose outlined in the Directory.

Presbyterian Preaching after Westminster Writing two decades after the publication of the Directory, renowned English Presbyterian pastor Richard Baxter warned that the desire of parishioners to have learned preachers could have a dark side, breeding pride.9 In his widely read and well-regarded guide to ministry, The Reformed Pastor, Baxter wrote,

presbyterian preaching   511 When [preachers] should inquire, “What shall I say, and how shall I say it, to please God best, and do most good?” [Pride] makes them ask, “What shall I say, and how shall I deliver it, to be thought a learned and able preacher, and to be applauded by all that hear me?”10

Baxter warned that the old demon of pride could overtake even the most dedicated preacher. He was particularly critical of preachers who, after a service of worship, pressed their families for assessments of how well they had preached that day: When the sermon is done, pride goeth home with them, and maketh them more eager to know whether they were applauded, than whether they did prevail for the saving of souls. If they perceive that they are highly thought of, they rejoice, as having attained their end, but if they see that they are considered but weak or common men, they are displeased, as having missed the prize they had in view.11

An excellent example of Presbyterian preaching that adhered to the Directory’s instructions is that of Matthew Henry. The Welsh-born son of an Anglican clergyman, Henry became a Presbyterian and served two congregations in England in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries. His sermons closely followed the biblical texts on which they were based and were customarily shaped according to the Directory’s prescribed threefold structure of doctrine, reason, and use. One of Henry’s sermons, based on the angel’s announcement of the resurrection of Christ to the women in Matthew 28:5–7, discovered that threefold pattern in the text itself. The doctrine phase of Henry’s sermon, based on verse 5 (“And the angel answered and said unto the women, Fear not ye: for I know that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified”), amplified the power of the resurrection to encourage and to banish fear. The reason phase, based on verse 6 (“He is not here: for he is risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay”), buttressed the doctrine phase by arguing that the resurrection is a reality (“He is not here, for he is risen”), a fact that is not only backed up by proof (“Come see the place”) but is also of ultimate importance because it fulfills Christ’s own word (“He is risen, as he said”). These reasons led to the final phase, the use section, of the sermon, based on verse 7 (“And go quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and, behold, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him”), which accentuated the urgency of proclaiming the resurrection to others.12 Henry’s ability to parse biblical texts in his sermons helped him produce his major literary work, the multivolume Exposition of the Old and New Testaments. So wellorganized and homiletically fruitful was this lengthy commentary on the scriptures that it served as the source for thousands of sermons by other preachers, including the legendary Calvinist Anglican evangelist George Whitefield. Whitefield preached evangelistic sermons across England and in the American colonies in the mid-eighteenth century. He had “a greater impact on evangelical Christianity in the eighteenth century than any other single colonial preacher.”13 According to New Testament scholar David Crump, “Henry’s in depth, practical, Calvinistic and biblical exposition served as the educational backdrop for almost every one of Whitefield’s sermons. Had Matthew Henry never been read by anyone other than Whitefield, he still would have spoken to an audience of thousands.14

512   thomas g. long

Presbyterians and the Great Revivals If the Presbyterian preacher and biblical student Matthew Henry influenced the great Anglican revivalist George Whitefield, the favor was returned in Whitefield’s effect on many American Presbyterian preachers. Whitefield’s preaching, addressed to his hearers’ emotional life and aimed at the conversion of their hearts, was an expression of a larger religious transformation taking place in the early eighteenth century among Protestants in Europe and America. This transformation was political, as well as religious, challenging established modes of authority and undermining rigid class structures. The preaching of the Great Awakening spilled over the banks of the recognized denominations, led to the conversion of many southern slaves, and made colonists “aware of their common spiritual heritage, and of their existence as an American nation.”15 The Great Awakening also brought division among Presbyterians, resulting in the New Side–Old Side split. The two groups not only had differing views of theology and the church, they also practiced different styles of preaching. Old Side pastors soldiered on with preaching that was doctrinal, carefully reasoned, and didactic. Adopting Whitefield as a role model, New Side ministers, in contrast, preached to precipitate an emotionally fraught conversion experience in their hearers. Presbyterian Gilbert Tennent not only preached impassioned conversion-oriented sermons to his congregation in New Brunswick, New Jersey, and elsewhere, but in 1740 he also famously attacked Old Side clergy for their lack of zeal. In his jeremiad, Tennent castigated the intellectually minded Old Side preachers as “dead dogs” and “Pharisee teachers.” Because Tennent measured the power of the gospel in terms of personal conversions, he concluded that most Old Side clergy were unfit to preach because they, themselves, were not converted: And right reason will inform us how unfit instruments they are to negotiate that work they pretend to. Is a blind man fit to be a guide in a very dangerous way? Is a dead man fit to bring others to life? A mad man fit to give to cast out devils? A rebel, an enemy to God, fit to be sent on an embassy of peace to bring rebels into a state of friendship with God? A captive bound in the massy chains of darkness and guilt, a proper person to set others at liberty? A leper, or one that has plague-sores upon him, fit to be a good physician? Is an ignorant rustic that has never been at sea in his life fit to be a pilot, to keep vessels from being dashed to pieces upon rocks and sandbanks? Isn’t an unconverted minister like a man who would teach others to swim before he has learned it himself, and so is drowned in the act and dies like a fool?16

The Old Side–New Side controversy ended in 1758, but the split between intellectual, content-centered preaching and more emotional, experience-centered preaching persisted among Presbyterians. In the nineteenth century, the more dispassionate and doctrinal Presbyterian preaching prevailed in the colleges and in many prominent parishes, but the evangelistic style had more impact on religious history.

presbyterian preaching   513 In Scotland, the spellbinding preacher Thomas Chalmers combined a preaching style that, like Whitefield and Tennent aimed for personal conversion with a commitment to broad questions of social concern and public welfare, thus anticipating many of today’s socially active evangelicals.17 In America, the new preaching style helped fuel one of the most dramatic events of the Second Great Awakening, a remarkable revival that occurred in August 1801 in and around the Presbyterian church in Cane Ridge, Kentucky. The American frontier at the turn of the nineteenth century was noted for its religious indifference and lack of morality. “The minutes of the frontier Transylvania Presbytery,” reports journalist Mark Galli, “reveal deep concern about the ‘prevalence of vice & infidelity, the great apparent declension of true vital religion in too many places.’ ” In 1798, the Presbyterian General Assembly set aside a day of prayer and fasting, Galli continues, “to redeem the frontier from ‘Egyptian darkness.’ ”18 The population on the frontier was burgeoning; Kentucky’s tripled in the last decade of the eighteenth century, but church membership, even among the popular Methodists, declined.19 The prospect for religious revival may have seemed dim on the western fringe of the new nation, but it was not completely extinguished. The first flicker of renewal occurred when the small Red River Presbyterian Church in Logan County, Kentucky, held its yearly communion service, which involved several days of prayer, preparation, and rededication. The new pastor of Red River, a fiery Gilbert Tennent–style Presbyterian from North Carolina named James McGready, had already electrified the atmosphere at Red River with his intense and emotional sermons. Ironically, McGready’s sermons were structurally quite similar to the formula laid out by the Westminster Standards, but his presence and delivery set him apart from the older style Presbyterian preachers. When he was a college student in North Carolina, Barton Stone, who would become the pastor at Cane Ridge during its revival, heard McGready preach and was powerfully moved. What impressed Stone most deeply was not the content of the sermon but McGready’s presence: His person was not prepossessing, nor his appearance interesting, except his remarkable gravity, and small piercing eyes. His coarse tremulous voice excited in me the idea of something unearthly. . . . Everything appeared by him forgotten, but the salvation of souls. Such earnestness—such zeal—such powerful persuasion, enforced by the joys of heaven and miseries of hell, I had never witnessed before. My mind was chained by him, and followed him closely in his rounds of heaven, earth and hell, with feelings indescribable. His concluding remarks were addressed to the sinner to flee the wrath to come without delay. Never before had I comparatively felt the force of truth. Such was my excitement, that had I been standing, I should have probably sunk to the floor under the impression.20

McGready brought this intense style of preaching to his churches in Logan County. Many Presbyterian churches in that region had continued the Scottish practice of communion seasons, when people would come from several parishes to a common campground for several days of preaching, fasting, and prayer, leading to a final communion service. McGready, sensing that the atmosphere was ripe for spiritual change, invited

514   thomas g. long several Presbyterian and Methodist pastors to take part in the communion season in the summer of 1800. The first few days of this meeting proceeded in typical placid, reflective fashion. But on the fourth day, during a sermon, a woman suddenly was overtaken with emotion and began to shout and sing. Others joined her in shouting and soon nearly the whole congregation, swept up in the emotional tide, began to fall on the floor as if fainting or in a trance. The Second Great Awakening had begun. In subsequent months, similar outbreaks of revival occurred during communion seasons in other churches in the area. The crowds were growing larger at each event, and some likened the outburst of ecstasy to the biblical Pentecost. But a truly breathtaking outpouring of religious fervor, on a crowd that was numerically larger than anything in the Book of Acts, was about to happen in the little village of Cane Ridge in Bourbon County, Kentucky. Just as many individuals were converted to the gospel by the preaching of these emotional and passionate Presbyterian ministers, many other clergy were converted to their methods. Barton Stone, pastor of the Cane Ridge Presbyterian Church, inspired not only by McGready’s preaching style but also by the results of the communion season in his churches, decided to imitate those methods at Cane Ridge. When the communion season at Cane Ridge began on August 6, 1801, no one was prepared for the crowds that showed up from miles around, at least ten thousand and perhaps as many as twenty-five thousand people. Intended to be a fairly quiet day of fasting and prayer, Saturday instead became a catalyst for a volcano-like eruption of the Spirit. As sermons were offered by Stone and other clergy, the fervor grew, and some of the people began to faint, while others shouted, cried, began bodily jerks, or barked like dogs. Galli describes the events at the close of that momentous day: As dark descended, camp fires cast large shadows against the trees; candles, lamps, and torches illumined the camp as hundreds moved to and fro, “like Gideon’s army”; preachers shouted sermons from the tent as people exhorted from the ground; some chanted hymns, others ecstatic hosannas—and always the mournful wailing for sin. “The noise was like the roar of Niagara,” wrote a participant. “The vast sea of human beings seemed to be agitated as if by a storm.”21

Not surprisingly, the ecstatic revivals prompted by the emotional and evangelistic preaching of Presbyterians and others were controversial. Congregations were divided by the unrestrained fervor of the conversions, and ministers were divided over the theology of the sermons. Eventually, the more restrained and intellectual Presbyterian pastors, who were in command of the presbyteries, exercised their powers of control, prompting many pastors who were leaders of the revivals to leave the Presbyterian Church. Some defected to the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, founded in 1810, which rejected the strict Calvinism of the Westminster Standards and the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA). Others, like Matthew Hudson and Barton Stone, eventually left Presbyterianism altogether. Hudson became a Shaker, and Stone and some of his colleagues formed a fellowship that ultimately became the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ). Church historian Robert Davidson argues that

presbyterian preaching   515 “this great excitement” almost totally destroyed the Presbyterian Churches in Kentucky and part of Tennessee.22

Charles G. Finney and Revival Preaching The Second Great Awakening continued for nearly fifty years, and another Presbyterian pastor played a pivotal role: Charles Grandison Finney. Finney, a lawyer in upstate New York, had a dramatic conversion experience at age twenty-nine and, as a result, began to train for the Presbyterian ministry under the tutelage of a local pastor, George Washington Gale. After his ordination, Finney was sent as an evangelist to the wilderness of  Western New York, where, nearly twenty-five years after the Cane Ridge camp meeting, he began to hold his own revival meetings. Gradually Finney developed techniques, called “the new measures,” to make these events more effective. Among these were the use of ordinary, sometimes even coarse, language in his sermons and prayers; he made direct and intimate eye contact with his hearers; he placed particularly uneasy hearers in seats near the front, the so-called anxious bench; and he used in his public preaching the gestures and intonations of private conversation, thus projecting sincerity.23 For Finney, the evangelistic goal justified the means, earning him much praise as a skilled evangelist and much condemnation as a master manipulator. Like James McGready before him, Finney structured his sermons according to the conventional Presbyterian-Westminster pattern, but his unconventional rhetorical style effectively disguised this. As homiletician Ted Smith explains, while Finney’s theology of measures subordinated “form to function, the form of his sermon” was remarkably similar over time. The basic Puritan framework ordered Finney’s sermons, “which invariably began with a simple statement of the text before moving to an exposition of the doctrine through a series of points and then concluding with an exhortation to act on the truth proclaimed.”24 Finney weaved into the points of his sermons, and therefore into the lattice of the doctrine-reason-use template, “cases,” or vivid illustrative stories, which packed an emotional charge. Finney built his sermonic houses according to classic Presbyterian architecture, but what attracted the thousands of listeners who heard him preach were not the bones of the structure but the garish, neon exteriors. Finney’s evangelical preaching has obvious roots in Cane Ridge and the other camp meetings of the great revival, and like the Presbyterian preachers of that earlier movement, Finney was sharply criticized by other Presbyterian colleagues. Alienated from both Presbyterian theology and fellowship, in 1837, he abandoned his Presbyterian ordination. Despite its roots in Cane Ridge, Finney’s preaching marked a major shift in revivalism. After Finney, the revivalist style became institutionalized in denominations like the Baptists and Methodists and, outside of denominational settings, became a

516   thomas g. long movement. Ultimately, Finney is more the precursor of the full-time professional evangelists who followed, such as Dwight Moody, Billy Sunday, Aimee Semple McPherson, and Billy Graham, than he is the heir of the camp meeting preachers. The revivalism of Finney and others played a role in a significant controversy in American Presbyterianism—the “Old School–New School” split. The disagreements over theology and church authority that had marked the Old Side–New Side split a century earlier had never fully healed, and they resurfaced in the 1830s. Church leaders allied with the Old School position objected that some aspects the Westminster Confession of Faith, particularly the doctrines of original sin, atonement, and election, were being watered down in the preaching of clergy associated with the New School. Representative of these concerns were the views of Professor Samuel Miller of Princeton Theological Seminary, an Old School stronghold. Miller charged that the preaching of the New School pastors tended toward Pelagianism, a theological view that minimized the effects of original sin and claimed that human free will alone, unaided by God, can choose moral goodness.25 The New School Presbyterians who preached at the revivals, such as Finney, were guilty of a practical form of this underlying Pelagianism, asserted the Old School party, because they used strategies and techniques that appealed to the hearers to respond emotionally and positively to the gospel. Miller admitted that some of the New School “errors” had been stimulated by poor Old School preaching that so emphasized human sin and divine initiative that it diminished human responsibility and tended to “lull to sleep than rouse and alarm the impenitent sinner.”26 Miller’s admission points to distinctive tendencies in Old School and New School preaching; Old School preachers tended to emphasize human sin and divine election, while New School preachers tended to underscore human responsibility to respond to the gospel. While both schools were present throughout the entire Presbyterian Church, the New School was strongest in the North, and the Old School more prevalent in the South.

The Rise of Social Justice and Global Missions After Finney’s death in 1875, the influence of evangelistic preaching began to wane in the PCUSA. Although Billy Sunday, the baseball player turned revivalist, was a Presbyterian, he became one only by virtue of his marriage to Nell Thompson. Another prominent evangelist, Billy Graham, was raised as a Presbyterian but felt he had to leave this tradition to join the more congenial Southern Baptist Church to continue his evangelistic work. Evangelism and revivalism did not disappear among Presbyterian preachers, but increasingly those themes found other institutional and ecclesial homes. A remaining legacy of the camp meeting and revival movements among Presbyterians is the increasing role of women as clergy and preachers. Because, in the camp meeting

presbyterian preaching   517 setting, the authority of the Word preached and taught depended more upon spontaneity and the perceived anointing of the Holy Spirit than upon official authorization from the church, women prayed and testified in ways not allowed in traditional Presbyterian structures, eventually helping to open the path for women’s ordination. Ted Smith has observed, “Some historians have given Finney a leading role in the story of women’s gaining access to pulpits, and there is no doubt that at least some women spoke in public to mixed crowds of men and women” at Finney’s meetings.27 It was many decades after Finney’s revivals, however, before the social and theological context had changed sufficiently to allow women preachers to be ordained in Presbyterian churches. In 1889, the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, a group that grew out of the great revival, became the first Presbyterian body to ordain a woman—Louisa Woosley. The PCUSA ordained Margaret Towner in 1956; the Presbyterian Church in the United States, a southern denomination, ordained Rachel Henderlite in 1965; and the Church of Scotland ordained Mary Levison in 1978. In the latter half of the nineteenth and the early part of the twentieth centuries, two emphases largely replaced the energies of revival preaching among Presbyterians: the social impact of the gospel at home and the global reach of the gospel through international missions. The Calvinist vision of society under the rule of God led many Presbyterians to preach about social justice. Although African American clergy have been a statistically small group in the Presbyterian Church, their impact on social issues has been great. African American Presbyterian clergy Samuel Cornish, Theodore Wright, and Henry Highland Garnet were outspoken critics of slavery, and in 1833 Cornish and Wright joined William Lloyd Garrison and others in establishing the abolitionist American Anti-Slavery Society. Later, Garnet, along with Susan B. Anthony and Frederick Douglass, became active in the Society, which was a significant instrument in the abolitionist movement. Garnet’s abilities as a preacher were recognized when he became the first African American to deliver a sermon in the US Capitol. After the Civil War, during Reconstruction and the Jim Crow era, African American Presbyterian pastor Francis Grimké, more than a half century before Martin Luther King Jr., thundered for racial justice from his pulpit in the 15th Street Presbyterian Church in Washington, DC, where he preached for six decades. Born to a slave and her owner, Grimké joined the Confederate Army to escape enslavement. He found his way to Massachusetts and, with the help of relatives, graduated from Lincoln University and Princeton Theological Seminary.28 Grimké spoke in a style both passionate and learned, careful, as a Presbyterian, to draw his prophetic messages directly from the biblical texts. In a sermon on 1 Corinthians 16:13—“Keep alert, stand firm in your faith, be courageous, be strong”—Grimké anchored his call for watchful and courageous action on equal rights in both Paul’s letter and the Old Testament story of Elijah: It is our duty to keep up the agitation for our rights, not only for our sakes, but also for the sake of the nation at large. . . . If justice sleeps in this land, let it not be because we have helped to lull it to sleep by our silence, our indifference; let it not be from lack of effort on our part to arouse it from its slumbers.29

518   thomas g. long Describing changes in Presbyterian preaching in the northern half of the United States, homiletician John McClure argues that during the 1920s and 1930s, liberal theological themes began to gain strength in Presbyterian pulpits. These themes included attempts to make the gospel persuasive to highly educated hearers, the positive role of human worth and agency, and social gospel concerns.30 This move toward liberalism was naturally opposed by more conservative elements in the PCUSA and PCUS, and for two decades Presbyterians were caught up in the war between fundamentalists and modernists. In the early 1920s, the enormously popular preacher Harry Emerson Fosdick, a liberal Baptist, was filling the pulpit of the First Presbyterian Church in New York City. A devotee of what was called “the modern use of the Bible,” which was the product of the new historical criticism of the scriptures being imported to the North American from European universities and seminaries, Fosdick attacked the ultraconservative fundamentalist movement in America by preaching a provocative sermon titled “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?” Business magnate John D. Rockefeller Jr. was so impressed by the sermon that he paid for thousands of copies to be sent to clergy across the land. A month after Fosdick preached his sermon in New York, Clarence Macartney, the celebrated pastor of the Arch Street Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, countered with a sermon called “Shall Unbelief Win?” in which he responded to Fosdick point by point from a conservative theological perspective. Macartney followed up his sermon by taking the fundamentalist cause to the courts of the PCUSA, where he won a brief victory. Fosdick left the pulpit at First Presbyterian, ultimately ending up as the pastor of the new Riverside Church in New York City, funded by John D. Rockefeller Jr. But fundamentalism was soon largely washed out of the main Presbyterian bodies—the PCUSA and PCUS—finding a new home in the freshly minted, very small denominations—the Orthodox Presbyterian Church and the Bible Presbyterian Church. Historical criticism of the Bible was not the only theological development imported to North America in the early twentieth century. A new theological movement that came to be called neoorthodoxy, among other labels, was also making its way from Europe to North America. Associated with theologians such as Karl Barth and Emil Brunner, this movement brought a fresh emphasis on the power of the biblical Word and the crucial importance of preaching. Because these themes were deeply embedded in Presbyterian tradition, many Presbyterian pastors were quick to adopt neo-orthodox views and methods. One Presbyterian pastor whose preaching displayed strong biblical interpretation and a powerful connection between the biblical message and contemporary culture was George A. Buttrick. Born in England and raised as a Methodist, Buttrick began his ministry as a Congregationalist minister in Illinois and then served in Vermont. He was soon called to a Presbyterian Church in Buffalo, New York, and he gradually became well-known as a scholarly and articulate preacher. In 1927, he was called to the pulpit of the Madison Avenue Presbyterian Church in New York City, where he stayed for nearly twenty years. Under his leadership, Madison Avenue became the largest Presbyterian congregation in the city. Preaching to a wealthy congregation during the Great Depression, Buttrick was keenly sensitive to the biblical message about wealth and poverty. Despite his awareness

presbyterian preaching   519 that some of the 10 percent were prominent members of his own flock, he preached that it was “irreconcilable with Christianity that ten percent of the American people owned ninety-five percent of the nation’s wealth.” Starting in 1955, Buttrick became the Plummer Professor of Christian Morals and Minister to the University at the Memorial Church at Harvard.31 In 1999, Preaching magazine named Buttrick, along with Billy Graham and Martin Luther King Jr, as one of the three most influential twentieth-century preachers in the world. Fellow pastor Edgar De Witt Jones said of Buttrick, The quality which most impresses me in the preaching of Dr. Buttrick is “aliveness.” His sermons suggest both the midnight study lamp and something of the freshness of the morning dew. Rooted in the Scriptures, they partake freely of current history, literature, drama: if they begin away in the ancient past they end in the all-absorbing present.32

In the 1960s in the United States, many Presbyterian ministers used their pulpits to advocate for civil rights. Helping to lead this crusade was the Eugene Carson Blake (1906–1985). After pastoring congregations in New York and California, Blake served as stated clerk of the PCUSA and then the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA), formed by the merger of the PCUSA and the United Presbyterian Church in North America in 1958, from 1951 to 1966. As both a pastor and as stated clerk, Blake preached often on public and social issues. Blake stirred up considerable controversy in the UPCUSA in July 1963 when he was arrested in an attempt to desegregate a Baltimore amusement park. A month later, Blake helped lead the March on Washington, at which Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his famous “I Have a Dream” speech. Blake also preached to the crowd from the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, saying, We come in faith that the God who made us and gave his son for us and for our salvation will overrule the fears and hatreds that so far have prevented the establishment of full racial justice in our beloved country. We come in hope that those who have marched today are but a token of a new and massive determination of all men of religion and patriotism to win in this “nation under God . . . liberty and justice for all.”33

Presbyterian ministers in the South who preached about the Christian responsibility to support black civil rights often paid a price, receiving resistance, threats of violence, and sometimes losing their church positions. For example, Presbyterian minister John Lyles, pastor of the Marion Presbyterian Church in South Carolina, in 1957 preached a sermon titled “Amos Diagnoses Our Southern Sickness,” in which he called for his congregation “to stand firmly for justice, equality, and love” over against the “Southern sickness” of racism. Lyles intended to preach a second sermon on this theme, but the session asked him not to do so, and he concurred. This truce, however, was short-lived. Later that year, after Lyles helped edit a small book of essays on race relations, South Carolinians Speak; A Moderate Approach to Race Relations, he was forced to resign from his position.34

520   thomas g. long Presbyterian participation in global mission increased greatly toward the end of the nineteenth century. Presbyterians established new fields of mission and expanded already existing fields in China, Egypt, Lebanon, Brazil, Korea, and the Congo. While missionaries focused mainly on congregational education and formation, preaching nevertheless played a significant role in the spread of the gospel. Presbyterian missionaries tended to preach what are called “topical” sermons, that is, sermons firmly drawn from scripture but organized around a single theme. By preaching on topics, such as “God,” “Jesus Christ,” “the nature of the church,” and “the Christian life,” these missionary preachers could employ the pulpit as a teaching instrument, imparting the nature of the Christian faith. In the Presbyterian churches established by the missionaries, the topical form of biblical preaching mostly prevailed until the late twentieth century, when more colloquial, indigenous, and experiential forms of preaching came into play.35 For example, in a 2008 book on Korean preaching, preaching professor Sangyil Park claimed that topical preaching remained one of the most common forms of preaching in his country, followed in popularity by “expository preaching,” in which the preacher proceeds verse by verse through the biblical text. Both these styles, topical and expository, argued Park, “are mostly didactic and dogmatic in nature,” and they display “the influence from the Western missionaries who introduced the Gospel to the nation in the late nineteenth century.” Today, younger Korean preachers are experimenting with less didactic, more emotive, less dogmatic, and more narrative forms of preaching (a shift that Park endorses).36

The Path Ahead As North America becomes more secular, as many Presbyterian congregations become smaller, and as the theological emphasis shifts toward ecumenical and even interfaith concerns, Presbyterian preaching is becoming less tradition specific. From the 1970s to the end of the twentieth century, many liberal and moderate Presbyterian ministers took up the narrative and storytelling style of preaching, in which stories are employed not merely as “illustrations” of previously articulated sermon “points” but as major centers of meaning, in vogue throughout much of Protestantism, while many evangelical Presbyterian pastors experimented with a blend of the older expository style and the newer narrative style. While an interest in narrative preaching remains common today, more teachingoriented forms of preaching are again becoming popular. This has been particularly true among evangelical Presbyterians, such as Tim Keller, a popular preacher and the founding pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian Church, a Presbyterian Church in America congregation, in New York City. For three decades at Redeemer Church, Keller blended expository preaching with a form of apologetics to appeal both to the skeptical culture and to those who know little about the Christian faith. More “mainline” Presbyterians have been slow to warm up to this more didactic style, largely because of its association

presbyterian preaching   521 with conservative theology, but an increasing awareness of the widespread lack of religious knowledge, even among committed church members, has encouraged some experimentation with more intentional teaching style sermons. The nature of digital and visual communication has also posed challenges for all preachers, and many Presbyterian pastors are including projected images and video clips in their sermons. Early enthusiasm for the use of such media in preaching has tempered somewhat as preachers in a trial-by-error fashion learn to discern between the use of images that are arresting and effective and ones that are gimmicky and distracting. While there are still many large Presbyterian congregations, the average Presbyterian church in North America has fewer than two hundred members, and many congregations are much smaller. Preaching to smaller gatherings of worshippers presents a different communicational environment than preaching to a large group, and some Presbyterian pastors are experimenting with more casual “house church” style sermons—sermons delivered to a smaller group in an informal, conversational style, sometimes with immediate questions and responses from the hearers, rather than delivered as a formal address to a congregation. In the midst of these experiments and the swirl of uncertainty about what the future holds for Presbyterian churches, a confidence remains in the power of the preached word and a strong desire among Presbyterian laity for clear, biblical, impassioned, and relevant preaching. Whatever new forms preaching may take hold among Presbyterians, the virtues of preaching that is faithful, wise, biblical, theologically profound, ethically alert, and spoken with humble conviction—qualities named as crucial by the Westminster Assembly four centuries ago—are in the DNA of the Presbyterian tradition and will surely find ever new expression in the Presbyterian pulpit.

Notes 1. James Hastings Nichols, Corporate Worship in the Reformed Tradition (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 1968), 29–30. 2. Nichols, Corporate Worship, 32. 3. “The Second Helvetic Confession,” The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (USA): Part 1, Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2016), 77. 4. Daniel Neal, The History of the Puritans or Nonconformists, from the Reformation in 1517 to the Revolution in 1688 (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1843), 457. 5. “The Westminster Larger Catechism,” in The Constitution of the Presbyterian Church (USA): Part 1, Book of Confessions (Louisville, KY: Office of the General Assembly, 2016), 252. 6. For the descriptions that follow, see The Directory for the Publick Worship of God, http:// www.reformed.org/documents/wcf_standards/index.html. 7. Augustine, “On Christian Doctrine, IV,” in The Works of Aurelius Augustine: A New Translation, ed. Marcus Dods (Edinburgh: T&T Clarke, 1873), 139. 8. “Of the Preaching of the Word,” in The Directory for the Publick Worship of God (Philadelphia: B. Franklin, 1745), 17–21. 9. Baxter often resisted the label Presbyterian because of his ecumenical commitments.

522   thomas g. long 10. Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 1974), 138. See also David Setran, “Conquering the ‘Tyrannical Commander’: Richard Baxter on the Perils of Pride in Christian Ministry,” Christian Education Journal, series 3, 13, no. 1 (2016), 59–80. 11. Baxter, Reformed Pastor, 138. 12. Matthew Henry, “The Angel’s Resurrection Message,” in Classic Sermon Outlines, ed. Sheldon B. Quincer (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2001), 78–81. 13. Nathan  P.  Feldmeth, “George Whitefield,” in Encyclopedia of the Reformed Faith, ed. Donald McKim (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992), 394. 14. David Crump, “The Preaching of George Whitefield and His Use of Matthew Henry’s Commentary,” Crux 25 (1989): 24. 15. Sidney  E.  Ahlstrom, A Religious History of the American People (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2004), 263. 16. Gilbert Tennent, The Danger of an Unconverted Ministry, CBN.Com, the website of the Christian Broadcasting Network, http://www1.cbn.com/danger-unconverted-ministry. Accessed January 5, 2019. 17. See Alec C. Cheyne, “Thomas Chalmers,” in McKim, Encyclopedia of the Reformed Faith, 61–62. 18. Mark Galli, “Revival at Cane Ridge,” Christian History, 45 (1995), 7–15, https://www. christianhistoryinstitute.org/magazine/article/revival-at-cane-ridge/. 19. Galli, “Revival at Cane Ridge.” 20. Barton Stone, The Biography of Eld. Barton Warren Stone (Cincinnati, OH: J.  A.  and U. P. James, 1847), 8. 21. Galli, “Revival at Cane Ridge.” 22. Robert Davidson, History of the Presbyterian Church in the State of Kentucky (New York: Robert Carter, 1847), 189. 23. See Ted  A.  Smith, The New Measures: A Theological History of Democratic Practice (Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2007). 24. Smith, New Measures, 65–66. 25. S. Donald Fortson II, The Presbyterian Creed: A Confessional Tradition in America (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2009), 88–92. 26. Samuel Miller, Letters to Presbyterians on the Present Crisis in the Presbyterian Church (Philadelphia: Anthony Finley, 1833), 116. 27. Smith, New Measures, 84. 28. Adam Borneman, “Francis Grimke: An African American Witness in Reformed Political Theology,” Political Theology Today: A Forum for Interdisciplinary and Interreligious Dialogue, November 22, 2013, http://www.politicaltheology.com/blog/francis-grimke-an-africanamerican-witness-in-reformed-political-theology/#_ftn9. 29. Francis J. Grimké, “Equality of Rights for All Citizens, Black and White,” in Great Speeches by African Americans, ed. James Daley (Mineola, NY: Dover, 2006), 96. 30. John McClure, “Changes in the Authority, Method, and Message of Presbyterian (UPCUSA) Preaching in the Twentieth Century,” in The Confessional Mosaic: Presbyterians and Twentieth-Century Theology, ed. Milton J Coalter, John M. Mulder, and Louis B. Weeks (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1990), 99–100. 31. See John Bishop, “George Buttrick: Scholar, Pastor, Preacher,” Preaching.com, https:// www.preaching.com/resources/past-masters/george-a-buttrick-scholar-pastor-preacher, accessed on January 4, 2019.

presbyterian preaching   523 32. Edgar De Witt Jones, American Preachers of Today (New York: Bobbs-Merrill, 1933), 282. 33. Eugene Carson Blake, “Address [from the Steps of the Lincoln Memorial to the 1963 March on Washington],” August 28, 1963, 2. From the digital archives of the King Center, Atlanta, GA. 34. Thomas G. Long, “Preaching in the South,” in The Encyclopedia of Religion in the South, ed. Samuel S. Hill and Charles S. Lippy (Macon, GA: Mercer University Press, 2005), 608. 35. Eun Joo Kim, “Korean Preaching: The Evaluation of Its Present Situation,” in Asian Americans and Christian Ministry, ed. Inn Sook Lee and Timothy D. Son (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 1999), esp. 287–292. 36. Sangyil Park, Korean Preaching, Han, and Narrative (New York: Peter Lang, 2008), 2–3.

Bibliography McClure, John. “Changes in the Authority, Method, and Message of Presbyterian (UPCUSA) Preaching in the Twentieth Century.” In The Confessional Mosaic: Presbyterians and Twentieth-Century Theology, edited by Milton  J  Coalter, John  M.  Mulder, and Louis B. Weeks, 84–108. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1990. McKim, Donald K., ed. Encyclopedia of the Reformed Faith. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1992. Nichols, James Hastings. Corporate Worship in the Reformed Tradition. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 1968. Smith, Ted A. The New Measures: A Theological History of Democratic Practice. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Smylie, James H. A Brief History of the Presbyterians. Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 1996.

pa rt V

ET H IC S , P OL I T IC S , A N D E DUC AT ION

chapter 32

Pr esby ter i a ns a n d Ethics Mark Douglas

Introduction The history of ethics in the Presbyterian Church mirrors the church’s larger history. This mirroring quality is, in part, the product of Presbyterian theological commitments and the distinct ways its various communions have enacted key theological ideas, especially the sovereignty of God, sin, a commitment to Scripture, and vocation. As Calvinists, Presbyterians claim to have significantly shaped modern economics (see Max Weber’s thesis in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism) and modern politics (see Michael Walzer’s thesis in The Revolution of the Saints).1 Emphasis on divine sovereignty leads Presbyterians toward social engagement because they believe that God works beyond, as well as within, the church. The focus on sin restrains idealism and pushes them to pursue justice and mercy. Scripture provides a moral authority to guide these pursuits. Emphasis on vocation motivates Presbyterian clergy and laity toward social engagement as they work out their various callings. Presbyterian ethics have not only mirrored but often driven the various moral commitments and debates central to the larger contexts in which Presbyterians have lived. For numerous theological, socioeconomic, educational, political, and cultural reasons, Presbyterian denominations and their members have had substantial influence in their contexts around the world. The Presbyterian Church has regularly influenced the cultures and social policies around it, and the diverse emphases in Presbyterian ethics globally are, in part, expressions of the power the church and its members have had and been willing to exert. Finally, the varieties of ethics in the Presbyterian Church have mirrored the varieties of ethical visions apparent in other faith communities and the wider society. The emphasis in the Presbyterian Church on ecumenism, evangelism, social respectability, and public witness leads it to respond to ethical issues beyond itself. The history of ethics in the

528   Mark Douglas Presbyterian Church mirrors the moral issues (e.g., slavery, the status of women, and sexual orientation) central to the societies where they operate. The history of Presbyterian ethics around the world offers insight into a global church that is durable but changing over time and whose approach to moral issues attempts to balance universal principles and contextual goods. No matter its location or time period, the distinct moral issues with which it struggles, or the integrity of its responses to those issues, Presbyterians’ engagement with ethical issues mirrors both its cultural settings and its theological commitments. Though this chapter can describe only a few of the issues with which the Presbyterian Church worldwide has dealt throughout its history, the mirror-like quality of ethics in Presbyterian bodies is evident from recounting some of its great moral debates, the trends revealed as those debate topics changed over time, the resources and authorities the church has used in those debates, and the distinctive ways that Presbyterians argue.

Beginnings: Ethics as a Component of Theology in the Formation of Ecclesial Identity Debates on moral issues within the Presbyterian Church are as old as the communion. When John Knox carried Reformed theology from Geneva back to Scotland in 1559, he brought not only patterns of argument but also particular agendas with him. Emphasizing a plain-sense reading of Scripture, he attacked the Roman Catholic Church and the leadership of women, including Mary Tudor in England, Mary of Guise, and Mary Stuart in Scotland. His Scots Confession (1560) and First Book of Discipline (1560) are replete with claims about proper moral order in church and society. That Presbyterianism thrived in Scotland during the second half of the sixteenth century was due not only to Knox’s arguments but to Scottish resistance to English influence: Presbyterians took political stances from their beginning. Conflicts over proper forms of governance engulfed seventeenth-century Europe during the rise of the modern nation-state. Presbyterians were not only involved in these conflicts, they carried them into the church through a series of debates with Baptists, Congregationalists, and others. Presbyterians played a prominent role in the Westminster Assembly, especially in drafting the Westminster Directory for the Public Worship of God (1644), The Westminster Confession of Faith (1647), and the Westminster Larger and  Shorter Catechisms (1647), which all have continued to play important roles in Presbyterian ethics. The priority and proper interpretation of Scripture on moral matters; the place of individual conscience within covenantal community; the moral obligations and aspirations of (Presbyterian) Christians; the proper ordering of good works, worship, and family life; and obligations to the law and the civil magistracy are all central to these texts. The latter two documents are centered around the Ten Commandments, especially

Presbyterians and Ethics   529 as they are understood through the application of the third use of the law—to reveal what is pleasing to God.2 Even today, some Presbyterian congregations recite the Ten Commandments after their prayers of confession to remind worshippers how a forgiven people are supposed to behave. In the mid-seventeenth century, Presbyterianism moved beyond Scotland when Scots settled in Northern Ireland. Almost immediately, conflicts arose between Protestants and Irish Catholics, culminating in the siege of Derry, which was broken by William of Orange at the Battle of Boyne in 1690—a victory Irish Presbyterians still remember. Meanwhile, in England, the Long Parliament (1645–1648) established Presbyterian polity as the official stance of the Church of England, and although that ended in 1660, Presbyterians remained in England as nonconformists. The first expansions of the Presbyterian Church beyond Scotland involved violence, debates about how to relate to the state and other religious communions, long memories, and, therein, further need to engage in continued reflection on moral life as it pertained to engagements of church and state. In the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, and especially through the ministry of Francis Makemie, Presbyterians moved beyond the British Isles into North America. They arrived with strong opinions about civic order and moral propriety. In a 1705 book, Makemie urged communities in Virginia and Maryland to build churches and schools to promote morality and literacy. He stressed the importance of economic development, argued for the priority of the public good, worked to find places in the colonies for religiously persecuted Irish, and supported religious tolerance. As one opponent wrote, “He is a jack-of-all-trades; he is a preacher, a doctor of physic, a merchant, an attorney, a counsellor at law, and which is worst of all, a disturber of governments.”3 He was also a merchant, farmer, and slave owner who was jailed and stood trial for preaching without a license (the laws in New York permitted only Church of England clergy to preach). From the beginning of Presbyterianism in North America, the church linked theological, moral, and political concerns (of both ecclesial and civic varieties) in energetic, uneven, and often morally ambiguous ways. Much of the history of ethics in the eighteenth-century American Presbyterian church can be seen through the lenses of the debates that animated the colonies and the new nation: How could order and freedom both be strongly affirmed? How could the church separate itself from its forbearers while also honoring the traditions that have flowed through those forbearers? What is the proper reach of institutions into the lives of those who participate in them, and what are the limits of that reach? On these and similar issues, Presbyterians disputed with others and among themselves. One cause for the division was the variety of Presbyterian immigrants who settled throughout the mid-Atlantic region and the diverse educational and theological backgrounds of their clergy. In the face of such diversity, the church struggled to find coherence. What ecclesial bodies should oversee the calling and disciplining of clergy? To what creeds were Presbyterians bound? How beholden should American churches be to their mother churches in Scotland and Ireland? To what degree should any Presbyterian congregation be beholden to another?

530   Mark Douglas The debates over these issues framed Presbyterian approaches to moral conflicts in North American churches thereafter, especially as they were adjudicated by forming ecclesial structures such as synods, pursuing clarity by reference to confessions, and insisting on the educational bona fides of leaders in the debates. By the time of the American Revolution, not only had approaches to moral debates within the church in America solidified, but the driving questions of the early part of the century had become amplified. Indeed, the overlap between the concerns of the church and those of the colonists was so great, and the willingness of Presbyterians to engage social issues so pronounced that many in England thought of the revolution as a Presbyterian rebellion. Although some Presbyterians sided with England and others with the colonists, they all relied on the same authorities. And after the war, as the United States of America worked to establish a constitutional form of government, Presbyterians such as John Witherspoon, the president of the College of New Jersey (now Princeton University) not only played a prominent role in the new nation’s formation but shaped their own ecclesial constitutional bodies, including the first General Assembly in 1789. In its first centuries, the Presbyterian Church linked theology, ethics, and politics so tightly that conceptually separating one from the others is impossible.

Inversions: Ethics as a Driver for Theology in Shaping Societies The history of the Presbyterian Church in England, Northern Ireland, and North America in the eighteenth century reveals trends in how it has dealt with ethical issues that continue to the present. The tensions between order and liberty are pronounced. Presbyterians have assumed that both ecclesial and civic matters are appropriate topics of debate. They regularly transform debates on issues into ones about church polity. Debates have often ended with splintering into contending parties (or, later, denominations). They have relied on a mix of all four authorities of the Wesleyan quadrilateral (scripture, tradition, experience, reason) in making arguments and have challenged opposing parties on their uses of those same authorities. They have assumed they have political power and that non-Presbyterians are not only listening but ought to listen. Evangelical fervor, grounded in both the gospel and nationalism, drove Presbyterian mission activity around the world, exporting their distinct mix of theology, ethics, and politics wherever they went. It also reshaped clergy and laity relations by encouraging laypeople to become leaders in the missionary activities and religious voluntary societies.4 Presbyterians were also instrumental in fighting to preserve the Sabbath, promote temperance, improve the economic well-being of the poor, and resist (or defend) slavery. Presbyterians not only espoused a set of theological affirmations but strove to be sober, upright, and charitable. As Charles Grandison Finney, who served both Presbyterian

Presbyterians and Ethics   531 and Congregational churches, emphasized, the Christian life involved pursuing “self-realization, self-improvement, and self-control.”5 Yet a subtle change was occurring in the first half of the nineteenth century. Morality was beginning to drive theological reflection rather than arise out of it. As it did so, ecclesial conflicts increasingly focused on matters of behavior rather than adherence to Reformed orthodoxy. During this period, Presbyterian missionaries carried this new way of relating ­theology and ethics with them as they established churches around the world. Where Presbyterians from the British Isles (in, e.g., Australia and New Zealand) established new churches, they tended to maintain the same moral sensibilities and to reproduce the same debates begun in the old world. As missionaries reached out to indigenous persons, they often began by establishing schools and hospitals. The former reinforced the “proper behavior” of converts; the latter revealed that such behavior should include care for those who suffer. This legacy of education, moral propriety, and social engagement continues today in Presbyterian denominations around the world, including ones in Mexico, Brazil, Ghana, Kenya, South Africa, Korea, Taiwan, and India.6 As a result, Presbyterians in these and other countries are often associated with particular social classes and moral sensibilities in these societies. Conflicts within these churches have been framed by the moral concerns distinct to the Presbyterian churches in that area, and conflicts between Presbyterian communions in the majority and minority world over such matters as those related to sexuality and economics reproduce not only differences between cultures but differences over how to relate theology, ethics, and politics. Nothing produced conflict in the Presbyterian churches of the United States during the first half of the nineteenth century as much as the issue of slavery. The Presbyterian Church divided into Old School and New School denominations in 1837, and the debates between the two groups took on regional flavors in the 1840s and 1850s as disagreements about slavery increasingly mattered as much as if not more than longer-standing theological disagreements. The New School advocacy of abolition drove most Presbyterians in the South to join the Old School. Presbyterian seminaries founded in the first decades of the nineteenth century attracted faculty and students who shared similar social positions and repelled those with whom they disagreed, retrenching theological and moral differences within Presbyterianism. After the first half of the nineteenth century, schisms within American Presbyterianism increasingly centered around moral disagreements. A small but vibrant group of black Presbyterian ministers, notably Theodore Wright, Henry Highland Garnet, and James W. C. Pennington, played prominent roles in abolitionism at the time.7 Across the Atlantic, Presbyterians were arguing about their relationships to the state. After the Glorious Revolution of 1688, the Church of Scotland was officially recognized as Presbyterian. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, however, the denomination split repeatedly, especially over questions of how closely connected the church should be to the Parliament of the United Kingdom and the ability of individual churches to call ministers. Presbyterians in Northern Ireland, along with Roman Catholics, faced

532   Mark Douglas persecution through the Penal Laws for their refusal to adhere to the established (Anglican) church. And small Presbyterian communions in Wales, which grew out of Methodist revivals at the end of the eighteenth century, turned toward Calvinism to justify seceding from the Church of England. Ironically, even as Presbyterians throughout the United Kingdom were working to distance themselves from the state, Presbyterians in the United States were energetically closing that gap. Though political disestablishment had been national law since the ratification of the Bill of Rights, the church and American culture were growing increasingly intimate, and after the Civil War, Presbyterians shifted from a focus on “their ecclesiastical differences to their common interest in the salvation of the Union.”8 Presbyterian ethics in the latter half of the nineteenth century were shaped by three larger social and ecclesial trends. The first was an increased emphasis on addressing the social ills of the growing country, including those having to do with labor conditions, industrialization, and urban life. Joining other Protestant denominations, Presbyterians aggressively pursued policies to morally improve society. Not only did this inaugurate new forms of ecumenical relations—including participation in the Alliance of the Reformed Churches holding the Presbyterian System, the World’s Parliament of Religions, and the Federal Council of Churches—but (at least in the northern and western United States), it pushed Presbyterians to think of their ministry in increasingly social, rather than spiritual, ways. Doctrinal clarity took a rear seat to the pursuit of social betterment as many Presbyterians participated in the Social Gospel movement in the early twentieth century and affirmed the Federal Council of Churches’ Social Creed of 1908. The second trend involved missionary work around the world through attempts to Christianize—and Westernize—the world. Presbyterian missionaries from the United States and the British Isles continued to speak the distinctive mix of theology, ecclesiology, and social engagement that characterize the Reformed tradition, albeit now with late nineteenth-century accents. Wherever they went, that distinctive mix encountered and was shaped by indigenous patterns of religious thought, so that though the Reformed emphasis on addressing both personal and social moral matters remained constant, the forms and focal points of this emphasis differed; temperance, worship styles, monogamy, relations to persons of other faiths, gender relations, and ecclesial hierarchies all became sites of moral debate. Presbyterian communions in the majority world negotiated the complexities of colonialism (and, later, postcolonialism), in part, by responding to the social needs and conflicts they faced in their various contexts. And as Presbyterians from around the world have participated in the World Alliance of Reformed Churches (now the World Communion of Reformed Churches), this mix of common emphases, combined with local forms and focal points, stimulated shared global projects to promote human welfare9 and produced disagreement.10 The third trend involved responding to the perceived threats of modern scholarship. Debates about higher biblical criticism, liberal theology, and Darwinian evolution were driven not only by concerns about maintaining the authenticity of the church’s historical witness but also by fears about the destruction of the social fabric that such scholarship seemingly carried with it. Some Presbyterians argued that historical criticism undermined confidence in Scripture and that liberal theology weakened confidence in a transcendent

Presbyterians and Ethics   533 God who determined the future and directed meaningful human activity, opening the door to acceptance of social Darwinism. Many prominent Presbyterians aligned themselves with fundamentalism in the 1920s, and while speaking in a more moderate tone than many of their cobelligerents, strove to reinforce not only doctrinal orthodoxy but traditional moral standards as well. For other Presbyterians, participation in the progress of civilization—including advancing human welfare—meant accepting contemporary scholarship to help bring about meaningful change. Relaxing reliance on scriptural authority enabled Christians to emphasize human experience and Jesus’s humanity, which, liberals argued, allowed the church to “walk in his steps.” These three developments—progressive social engagement to address ills like poverty, illiteracy, working conditions, and (to a lesser degree) racial inequality; missionary efforts not only to bring good news but to instill proper Western moral sensibilities in people around the world; and mixed moral responses to new forms of scholarship— strongly affected Presbyterian ethics around the world in the twentieth century. They also served as a background to and antecedents for disputes about moral issues that were decades from surfacing, including those having to do with the ordination and status of women, civil and human rights, the impact of global economic systems, and same-sex relationships. Ethics entered the nineteenth century as a handmaiden to theology (so that moral debates in the church were settled by recourse to the Bible and the Westminster Confession or by schism), but it left the century as a driver of theological discourse. Increasingly, people’s theological positions followed from their positions on the great moral issues of the day.

Scholarly Disestablishment: Separating Ethics from Theology in the Twentieth Century In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Presbyterian seminaries in the United States began to call faculty whose titles and roles clearly assigned them the responsibility to teach ethics. Take, for example, the flagship seminaries of the two largest Presbyterian communions in North America: Princeton Theological Seminary and Columbia Theological Seminary. In the North, Charles Augustus Aiken accepted the position Professor of Christian Ethics and Apologetics at Princeton Theological Seminary in 1871. His successor, William Brenton Greene Jr., was called to be the Stuart Professor of the Relations of Philosophy and Science to the Christian Religion in 1892 (in 1903 that chair was renamed the Stuart Professor of Apologetics and Christian Ethics). In the South, James  B.  Green was named Professor of Systematic Theology, Christian Ethics, and Homiletics at Columbia Theological Seminary in 1925. As those titles suggest, ethics was an add-on to position descriptions that included philosophy, theology, apologetics, preaching, and the sciences. Likewise, teaching ethics in the early twentieth century had less to do with addressing moral conundrums or

534   Mark Douglas exploring ethical systems than with persuading students that proper moral living flowed from their faith convictions and served as a basis for evangelism and ministerial integrity. Often, courses in ethics at Presbyterian seminaries were reserved for seniors and oriented around their obligations to maintain moral propriety because they anticipated serving as significant voices in the wider society. By the mid-twentieth century, ethics had become a separate field of study in higher education. This owed partly to changes in technology (advances in medicine, for instance, mandated a shift from abstract and methodologically oriented questions to very concrete ones, such as how to decide who should receive a transplanted kidney), partly to increasing levels of specialization within the academy, and partly to changes in society (including understandings of war and peace in a nuclear age and social obligations to persons who suffer in patriarchal, racist, and classist systems). The professionalization of ethics influenced the Presbyterian churches and seminaries. In 1961, Charles West became Associate Professor of Christian Ethics at Princeton Theological Seminary, and in 1973, Fred Bonkovsky became Associate Professor of Christian Ethics at Columbia Theological Seminary. They were the first professors at either institution called to teach ethics specifically, and they brought with them the same types of methodological concerns— deontology versus consequentialism, moral absolutes versus relativism—that had animated mid-twentieth-century philosophical ethics.11 Professionalizing ethics and distinguishing it from other theological disciplines helped Presbyterian communions that were facing decreasing cultural influence in Europe and North America. As their cultures became more pluralistic, Presbyterian leaders used moral categories rather than theological ones to address moral issues, turning primarily to the language of human rights. Strategically, it made sense for Presbyterians who were pursuing (or opposing) the rights of persons of color, women, the economically marginalized, and LGBTQ+ persons to increase their influence by banding with leaders of other denominations and religions, and it was easier to talk to them using a common moral vernacular than distinct and sometimes conflicting theological languages. Ecumenicity took on an increasingly moral character for Presbyterians as they joined with other communions to form united churches, as in the Church of Scotland and the United Church of Canada, or they participated in such organizations as the World Council of Churches and the World Alliance of Reformed Churches, especially as those organizations took up significant global social causes. Shaped by secular cultures, Presbyterians often struggled to explain how their responses to social issues differed from the ones that nonreligious groups gave for acting in the same way. This is not to say that Presbyterians abandoned theological language. Instead, such language served an increasingly apologetic task as the most significant conversations and the biggest debates within Presbyterian denominations focused on moral issues rather than theological ones: How should Presbyterians respond to violence in a nuclear age? What does economic justice entail in a world of consumerism and global capitalism? Should women or racial and ethnic minorities or LGBTQ+ persons have full equality? Presbyterian communions around the globe took dramatically different stances on many of these issues, straining ties with each other and with other religious bodies. Theologies

Presbyterians and Ethics   535 oriented toward apologetics did little to resolve the debates, especially when Presbyterian communions around the world had disparate theological emphases; differing social standings; and distinct understandings of the relations between theology, ethics, and politics and dealt with dissimilar moral issues. In the United States, Mexico, Brazil, Korea [HapDong], and other nations, more conservative Presbyterian communions still relied on the language of the Bible or the Westminster Confession or both to provide a theological grounding for their social engagement, and treated scripture as the primary moral authority. However, in increasingly pluralistic societies, conservative Presbyterians have struggled to keep such approaches from devolving into de facto political conservativism, especially when adherence to traditional theological frameworks reinforced commitments to moral conservativism. More liberal Presbyterian communions, especially in the United States and Europe, relied on Reformed theological perspectives (and even non-Reformed ones such as those arising out of liberation theology) to ground their moral arguments, while treating the four moral authorities, Scripture, tradition, experience, and reason, more equally. These more mainline liberal communions struggled to maintain not only coherence and agreement in their ranks but also their ties with Presbyterian communions around the world whose theological trajectories grew out of their own heritages and whose greatest moral concerns differed from those of churches in the West. Debates about LGBTQ+ persons in the Presbyterian Church U.S.A., or the PC(USA), are prototypical of the significant changes in the relation of ethics to theology. Not only were these debates at the center of denominational attention for several decades, but through them, a distinctly intra-ecclesial matter (whom to ordain within one’s own communion) became the issue that brought the denomination the greatest public attention and caused the greatest strains in ecumenical relations. On the one hand, these debates followed long-established patterns of Presbyterian engagement on moral issues, including engaging the latest scholarship—including secular scholarship—on the matter, forming committees to discuss issues, building coalitions with like-minded groups, engaging in debates over and revising polity, and enduring schism. On the other hand, the debates reveal the changes in Presbyterian approaches to moral issues that have occurred in the twentieth century. Contending parties argued about the authority of Scripture, claimed that their positions had scriptural support, and condemned others for rejecting the teaching of Scripture. They argued about homosexuality without offering robust Reformed theological understandings of sexuality to sway others. They argued over using their denomination’s confessions without clarifying why confessions written before the twentieth century should matter. Presbyterian conservatives partnered with conservatives in other denominations, and Presbyterian liberals with liberals in other denominations. Increasingly entrenched tribalism within the PC(USA) led not only to the creation of a variety of interest groups but also to unduly divisive debates on matters unrelated to LGBTQ+ ordination (e.g., domestic economic policy, secular politics, and international relations), since one’s stance on ordination became a marker for where one stood—and with whom one stood—theologically, morally, socially, and politically. Each camp claimed that its position

536   Mark Douglas aligned with arguments in the wider secular culture, even though the public paid comparatively little attention to their debates. The PC(USA)’s attempt to resolve the matter by forming a commission that spent three years together in study had little impact, especially since resolving a polity issue could not resolve the deeper the questions and anxieties that drove the debates. The PC(USA)’s divisions and debates repelled many both inside and outside the denomination and strained ecumenical ties—sometimes to the point of breaking—with the global Presbyterian Church. They dwarfed other matters occupying the denomination’s attention, including its rapidly diminishing numbers and influence, the growing size and significance of the church in the global south, and far-reaching changes in global politics and the natural world, such as religious violence and climate change.12 Perhaps unsurprisingly, as US society increasingly accepts LGBTQ+ people, the furor within the denomination is receding. In the face of the dramatic social, political, economic, and environmental changes occurring throughout the world, the world’s Presbyterian communions will respond to the distinct changes they encounter in their own contexts and will be changed as they respond. Such is the mirroring quality of Presbyterian denominations. And as the Presbyterian Church changes, the ways it does ethics will change as well. Such is the mirroring quality of its ethics. Where critics see this as a lack of theological clarity or foundational moral commitments, Presbyterians see it as an expression of their freedom to faithfully engage the events of their day guided by a sovereign God.

Notes 1. Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism (London: Routledge, 2001); and Michael Walzer, The Revolution of the Saints: A Study in the Origins of Radical Politics (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1982). 2. In his Institutes, John Calvin argued that the laws of the Old Testament continued to serve three uses for Christians: they reminded Christians of their own unrighteousness and need for grace; they restrained the sinful behavior of all people through threat of punishment; and they guided believers toward living in more righteous ways.  See Calvin, Institutes of  the Christian Religion, edited by John  T.  McNeill; translated by Ford Lewis Battles (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1960), 2.7. 3. Edward Hyde, governor of the colony of New York, quoted (though unnamed) in I. Marshall Page, The Life Story of Rev. Francis Makemie: Apostle and Father of Organized Presbytery in America (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1938), 144. 4. This shift in power would later both drive and complicate the inclusion of women and minorities into leadership in the church, because it would both diversify leadership and drive questions about the theological education of church leaders and whether all church leaders should adhere to the same moral standards. 5. Quoted in Bradley J. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 79. 6. See Jean-Jacques Bauswein, Jean-Jacques, and Lukas Vischer, eds. The Reformed Family Worldwide: A Survey of Reformed Churches, Theological Schools, and International Organizations (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1999).

Presbyterians and Ethics   537 7. See Gayraud S. Wilmore, Black and Presbyterian: The Heritage and the Hope (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998). 8. Lewis  G.  Vander Velde, quoted in D.  G.  Hart and John  R.  Muether, Seeking a Better Country: 300 Years of American Presbyterianism (Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007), 165. 9. For example, the determination by World Alliance of Reformed Churches that the Reformed communions in South Africa so severely violated the gospel by supporting apartheid that the it excluded the South African churches from the international body. 10. As has been the case when Presbyterian communions around the world threaten to cut ties with their American sister communions over matters related to the ordination and full inclusion of LGBTQ+ persons. 11. For a wider perspective on Christian social ethics in the U.S. in the twentieth century, see Gary Dorrien, Social Ethics in the Making: Interpreting an American Tradition (Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009). 12. The tenor and approaches of debates in other Presbyterian communions in the U.S. and abroad are similar to the debate in the PC(USA). The Presbyterian Church of America is again debating the ordination of women, the Presbyterian Church in Ghana is struggling with the influence of prosperity gospel in its churches, and the Presbyterian Church in Korea has divided into over 100 denominations in just over a century.

Bibliography Bauswein, Jean-Jacques, and Lukas Vischer, eds. The Reformed Family Worldwide: A Survey of Reformed Churches, Theological Schools, and International Organizations. Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1999. Coalter, Milton J, John M. Mulder, and Louis B. Weeks, eds. The Diversity of Discipleship: The Presbyterians and Twentieth-Century Christian Witness. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1991. Coalter, Milton J, John M. Mulder, and Louis B. Weeks, eds. The Presbyterian Predicament: Six Perspectives. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1990. Dorrien, Gary. Social Ethics in the Making: Interpreting an American Tradition. Malden, MA: Wiley-Blackwell, 2009. Englund-Krieger, Mark. The Presbyterian Pendulum: Seeing Providence in the Wild Diversity of the Church. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2010. Hart, D.G., and John  R.  Muether. Seeking a Better Country: 300 Years of American Presbyterianism. Phillipsburg, NJ: P&R, 2007. Longfield, Bradley  J. Presbyterians and American Culture: A History. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Smylie, James H. A Brief History of the Presbyterians. Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 1996. Wilmore, Gayraud  S. Black and Presbyterian: The Heritage and the Hope. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998.

chapter 33

Pr esby ter i a ns a n d Ch u rch-State R el ations Mark A. Noll

Introduction Conditions of origin constitute the crucial historical fact about Presbyterians and church-state relations. Presbyterian movements arose in Europe’s confessional age of  the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Except for a very few outliers, Europe’s main Christian traditions simply assumed the interpenetration of secular and religious interests, institutions, and influences. Put another way, Presbyterianism arose in a cultural environment defined by the instincts of Christendom, where political and ecclesiastical leaders cooperated, the laws supported Christian institutions, and Christian belief served as an acknowledged foundation for society. After that beginning point, however, the history of Presbyterians on church and state records a complex transition, a “seismic shift” in the words of D. G. Hart, that saw Presbyterians “first . . . deplore the demise of Christendom and then . . . laud the benefits of differentiating the religious and secular spheres.”1 The complexity of this history arises from the fact that the seismic shift took place at different times to different degrees and under differing circumstances in the many locations where Presbyterian churches eventually came to exist.

The Confessional Starting Point Reformed varieties of confessional Christendom wanted the churches to play a more active role in shaping society than did Lutherans, who followed Martin Luther in viewing God’s rule exercised through clearly divided Two Kingdoms of secular authority and

540   mark a. noll Christian authority. Despite fundamental disagreements with Catholics, the Reformed joined them in expecting close cooperation between church leaders and civil rulers— even as they insisted on the church’s sovereignty over its own internal affairs. A few of the most important Reformed doctrinal statements were silent on church-state questions (notably, the Heidelberg Catechism, 1563, and the Canons of Dordt, 1618–1619). But the majority of confessions that did address these concerns consistently affirmed that God wanted secular rulers to assist church leaders in creating societies organized to honor and serve God. In 1559, the first Protestant confession of faith in France declared that God “has put the sword into the hands of magistrates to suppress crimes against the first as well as the against the second table of the commandments of God”—that is, to guide religious as well as civil life.2 Similar affirmations appeared in John Knox’s Scots Confession of 1560 (art. 24), even though it was promulgated under a Catholic queen, the Belgic Confession of 1561 (art. 36), and the Second Helvetic Confession of 1566 (chap. 30).3 The Westminster Confession of 1647, which became definitive for Scottish Presbyterians and continues to enjoy pride of place among Presbyterians the world over, underscored these assumptions about tight church-state cooperation: The civil magistrate . . . hath authority, and it is his duty, to take order, that unity and peace be preserved in the church, that the truth of God be kept pure and entire, and that all blasphemies and heresies be suppressed, all corruptions and abuses in worship and discipline prevented or reformed, and all the ordinances of God duly settled, administered, and observed.4

In an unusually perceptive summary, Joseph Moore has aptly characterized this confessional tradition: “A structural concern for creating and maintaining godly societies sits at the heart of Presbyterian history.”5 Alongside this near unanimity of profession, however, local conditions mattered a great deal. A good example is the evolution of John Calvin’s theology in Geneva. In early editions of Calvin’s Institutes (written between 1536 and 1559), when the persecution of Protestants by the Catholic king of France and the vacillation of Geneva’s city councils defined his immediate context, Calvin stressed the negative functions of government: civil authority was “to promote general peace and tranquility,” thus enabling the church to carry out its own activities (4.20.2). By contrast, in the 1559 edition, when Calvin after a lengthy struggle had gained nearly unanimous support for his reforms from the Geneva city councils, he assigned a much more positive role to government in supporting not only church institutions but also the first table of the Decalogue (4.20.20). Both the presumption about God approving formal church-state cooperation and a capacity to adjust in the face of local circumstances defined later history as Presbyterians migrated out of Europe to regions that modified, abandoned, or lacked the European confessional tradition. Except for Scotland—and, to a lesser extent, the Netherlands— none of the venues where Presbyterianism took root from the seventeenth century onward received the kind of exclusive government support of the churches prescribed in

presbyterians and church-state relations   541 the most influential Reformed confessions. Yet apart from only a few noteworthy exceptions, Presbyterians in religiously pluralistic societies or ones with shared establishments, without state churches, or where another church or ideology dominated, sustained the vision of life as a totality under God’s rule. “Proprietary” is a good adjective to describe this attitude. This common attitude, nonetheless, produced a diverse range of conflicting responses to individual doctrinal or ecclesiastical questions, often resulting in Presbyterians battling each other under banners all labeled “here be God’s will.” Yet underneath this diversity lay a common understanding of the privilege, which was also a duty, to shape the public sphere.

Established Presbyterians During the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Reformed Christians succeeded in establishing Presbyterian regimes in several Swiss cantons, the Netherlands, and Scotland. They tried to do the same in England and France, but were defeated by competing establishments. In England, Presbyterian attempts in the 1580s to purify church, state, and society under Queen Elizabeth I (r. 1558–1603), which produced a flurry of ardent tracts, only hardened the queen’s resolve to block further Protestant reform. Presbyterians stormed back in the 1630s when King Charles I tried to rule England without Parliament, which included many Presbyterians. During a brief alliance between Presbyterians in England and Scotland, caused by Charles’s effort to impose the Anglican Prayer Book on his northern kingdom, Presbyterians seemed poised to triumph. In 1643, the English Parliament called for church reform “as may be most agreeable to God’s Holy Word, and most apt to procure and preserve the peace of the Church at home, and nearer agreement with the Church of Scotland, and other reformed churches abroad.”6 To implement this goal, Parliament convened an assembly with a large majority (including five from Scotland) who hoped to create two comprehensively Presbyterian nations in the British Isles. Their work resulted in the Westminster Confession, which advocated close church-state ties. By the time the assembly finished its work, however, the Presbyterian hour had passed. Parliament, now controlled by Congregationalists and some who promoted the very radical notion of religious toleration, never implemented the Westminster documents. After the restoration of the monarchy and the Church of England in 1660, Presbyterians joined the ranks of England’s Dissenters, who enjoyed a perilous existence until, in 1689, new monarchs, William and Mary, approved an Act of Toleration protecting them and other non-Anglican Protestants. Having lost their effort to establish a thoroughly Presbyterian regime, English Presbyterians lived on, but as a spent force. Scotland presents the classic case of a Presbyterian establishment. It is also an exceedingly complicated story in which Presbyterians battle each other incessantly over how to make their establishment work, and are also frequently at odds with Parliament, their own nobility, and, eventually, secular and Roman Catholic forces, who complained about being unjustly excluded from establishment privileges.

542   mark a. noll In 1559, nobles and a clerical cohort led by John Knox precipitated the Reformation in Scotland. These ardent Protestants revolted against Queen Mary Stuart and her French Catholic allies; they published a confession, a book of discipline, and a book of church order modeled on Calvin’s reforms in Geneva; but their new system also included area “superintendents” who functioned like bishops. The latter enjoyed the support of Mary’s son, James VI, who reigned in Scotland from 1567 until 1603 and added the English throne (as James I) upon the death of Queen Elizabeth. Efforts by the son of James VI/I, Charles I, to pull Scotland into conformity with the English state church precipitated the next series of crises. When in 1637 the king and his Archbishop of Canterbury, William Laud, attempted to impose the English Prayer Book on Scotland, Scottish leaders and many common people signed a National Covenant that asserted the nation’s right to chart its own path. When Charles and Laud insisted that Scotland accept the governance of bishops, the Scots revolted, took up arms, and invaded England, which began the chain of events leading to the rise of Oliver Cromwell, the execution of Laud and King Charles, and much else. In 1643 much of the nation subscribed to a Solemn League and Covenant, thereby pledging themselves and their country in its entirety to the Lordship of Christ. The English Parliament affirmed that covenant, which led to the calling of the Westminster Assembly. The Solemn League and Covenant began as a strong reaffirmation of Christendom, joining the welfare of the kingdom, loyalty to the king, “one reformed religion[,] . . . the glory of God, and the advancement of the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.” Securing a fully Presbyterian establishment would lead, they hoped, to “the preservation of the reformed religion in the Church of Scotland, in doctrine, worship, discipline, and government, against our common enemies; the reformation of religion in the kingdoms of England and Ireland, in doctrine, worship, discipline, and government, according to the Word of God, and the example of the best reformed Churches.”7 It did not happen. The Scottish and English Presbyterians fell out over how to deal with King Charles, while England’s Parliament fragmented into multiple antagonistic factions. Soon a Parliamentary army led by Cromwell was at war with a Scottish army led by Presbyterians. After Cromwell died, in 1658, England, with substantial Scottish support, sought the restoration of the monarchy. The result in 1660 was the reimposition of an Episcopal state church in Scotland, which in turn provoked the Scots most intensely loyal to the Solemn League and Covenant to resist, even when they were harried, exiled, or killed. These “Covenanters” never became more than a small fraction of Scottish Presbyterianism, but their ardent commitment to the ideal of a nation and church, united in support of what they considered scriptural Christianity, has enjoyed a heroic reputation in Scotland and abroad. One example of later Covenanter influence appeared in American history. In 1861, at the start of the Civil War, Scotch-American Covenanters organized the National Reform Association to campaign for a “Christian Amendment” to the US Constitution. That amendment would have added to the Constitution’s preface phrases reminiscent of what all Scotland had affirmed in 1643—“[We the People], recognizing the being and attributes of Almighty God, the Divine Authority of the Holy Scriptures, the law of God as the

presbyterians and church-state relations   543 paramount rule, and Jesus, the Messiah, the Savior and Lord of all.”8 The Covenanter tradition thus contributed substantially to the aspiration for a Christian America that has shown up in many forms at many times. After severe testing under Charles II (1660–1685) and his son James II (1685–1688), Scottish Presbyterians regained substantial control over their own destiny when the Bloodless Revolution of 1688 put the sister of James II (Mary) and her Dutch husband (William) on the thrones of England, Scotland, and Ireland. Two years later, Scotland regained its Reformed establishment, which stimulated Presbyterian educational reforms from parish primary schools through the four Scottish universities (St.  Andrews, Glasgow, Aberdeen, and Edinburgh). These universities soon earned the respect of learned people everywhere. Outsiders were less impressed with the Scots’ establishment when, in 1697, the government’s Lord Advocate prosecuted Thomas Aikenhead, a loudmouthed youth from a prominent Edinburgh family, for blasphemy and secured his execution. In 1707, the union of the Scottish and English crowns gave the Kirk establishment status, but included provisions that allowed certain patrons to name incumbents to local parishes, which precipitated more than two centuries of fierce legal challenges over issues of local church prerogatives. The wrangling over Scotland’s establishmentarian regime came to a climax in the first decades of the nineteenth century when Thomas Chalmers (1780–1847) became the leader of the Kirk’s evangelical party. A figure who enjoyed enormous respect in England and Scotland, Chalmers was a renowned preacher, a mostly traditional Calvinist, an apologist for the harmony of Scripture and the new sciences (especially astronomy), a pioneer for social reform in Scotland’s rapidly industrializing cities, the first Presbyterian to be granted the doctorate in common law from Oxford University—and a celebrated defender of the establishment principle. When, however, Chalmers’s decades-long effort to curb the power of patrons over church appointments failed, in 1843 he led over one-third of the Kirk’s ministers into forming the Free Church of Scotland. The two resulting churches agreed on an establishment but argued over how it should be conducted. Thereafter, however, the Scottish church-state union declined in scope and influence, and the state gradually took over poor relief and increased its authority over local and university education. The state eventually abolished patronage, included Catholic schools in the national educational system, and consequently more fully guaranteed religious liberty to all. In 1929, the British Parliament authorized the union of the United Free Church and the Church of Scotland, signaling an end to the 1843 Disruption. It also allowed the Kirk to retain its status as the national church, which explains why Queen Elizabeth II has visited the annual General Assembly on several occasions and why she attends Presbyterian worship when she visits her Scottish estate. Established Presbyterianism on the Scottish model worked well at incorporating local congregations, lay elders, and rising layers of representation into church authority. Calvinist seriousness also spurred remarkable educational advances on all levels. Internal dissensions, leading regularly to schism, along with a never-ending series of conflicts with social and educational elites, meant, however, that the Church of Scotland

544   mark a. noll never quite became “the perfect school of Christ on earth” that John Knox and his successors had hoped to establish by setting up a Presbyterian establishment on the Geneva model.

Shared Establishment The times and places where Presbyterians shared an established status occurred in colonial situations in which British (or Dutch) authorities moved from imperial control toward colonial self-government. In New Netherlands, the Dutch establishment came to an end in 1664, when the English took control of the area they renamed New York. In Indonesia, it survived haphazardly until 1816, when the Netherlands bestowed colonial status on the islands and gave financial support to several Protestant churches. The South African history unfolded differently. Early Dutch settlers, with an effectively established Reformed church, lost considerable control over colonial life when Britain took over the South African Cape in the early nineteenth century. Although it was the church of Dutch settlers and their Afrikaner descendants, the Reformed Church continued to enjoy governmental support from the British. Hence, church leaders opposed the Great Trek of the 1830s, when Afrikaners migrated northward beyond British jurisdiction and created two independent republics (the Orange Free State and the Transvaal) to govern their own affairs and preserve strict racial segregation. The church also resisted as the British moved to end official state maintenance. Yet when the voluntary principle of church funding finally replaced church establishment, it led to a closer bond between the Dutch church and the Afrikaner people. Reformed ministers helped revive celebration of the Covenant that Afrikaner Trekkers had sworn in 1838 during a time of military conflict with native Zulus. The day that Covenant was signed, December 16, became an annual celebration at which ministers drew from Scripture to proclaim a tight analogy between Old Testament Israel and the Lord’s Afrikaner Covenant people. The Anglo-Boer War of 1899–1902 intensified Afrikaner commitment to the National Covenant. In the process Presbyterian church order and Calvinist theology became servants of a vigorous Afrikaner nationalism that with its apartheid principles grew increasingly aggressive over the course of the twentieth century.9 Colonial Dutch establishments in New York and Indonesia passed away quietly. By contrast, in South Africa the Christendom framework, to which church-state union had been integral, survived with devastating consequences. In this case, a powerful belief in the unity of peoplehood, Reformed traditions, and divine chosenness outlasted the end of church-state financial interdependence. Presbyterians in Canada, Australia, and New Zealand who came from Scotland (or Ulster) passed through phases of demanding formal government support before they finally accepted the principle of church-state separation. Yet in these cases, the loss of established status did not weaken the desire of many Presbyterians to influence public life by voluntary means. New Zealand’s pioneering Presbyterian pastor, John Macfarlane, arrived from Glasgow with over a hundred fellow Scots in 1840. Two years later, when

presbyterians and church-state relations   545 Anglicans greeted one of their bishops by calling themselves “members of the Established Church of New Zealand,” Macfarlane protested that “it has been decided by all the judges of England that the Church of Scotland is equally established with that of England; and in all the colonies of the British Crown possessing the same rights, privileges, and immunities.”10 Similar protests arose in Nova Scotia, Upper Canada (Ontario), and Australia whenever Church of England settlers styled themselves as the established church. Yet colonial governments moved fairly rapidly toward full religious freedom and voluntary support of the churches. In Canada, for example, the Constitutional Act of 1791 designated tracts of land for the maintenance of “a Protestant clergy,” but endless controversy occurred over who was eligible for this support. Finally, in 1854 these Clergy Reserves were secularized, financial considerations going to Presbyterians, as well to Anglicans and others, in exchange for giving up their claims for direct financial support. Colonial reverberations from the Scottish Disruption of 1843 did, however, indicate the strong residual power of establishmentarian instincts even where the Christendom framework was passing away. In Canada, New Zealand, and Australia, Presbyterian communities experienced schism between Kirk-loyal and Free Church–loyal components, even where they had no establishmentarian spoils to fall out over. In Australia, the life of John Dunmore Lang shows how consistently the Presbyterian desire to exert public influence could work even with a shift from establishmentarianism to voluntarism.11 When Lang migrated to Australia in 1822, he brought along a Scottish ideal of church-state cooperation—self-consciously Christian yeomanry upheld by government support for the local church and school. As the first ordained Presbyterian in the new colony, Lang insisted on the rights of church establishment, with the result that his congregation received state aid and he was given a stipend to serve as colonial chaplain. But Lang’s fellow Presbyterians turned against him because of his authoritarian ways. When a visit to the United States convinced him to accept voluntarist principles and the colonial government stopped supporting an established Presbyterian Church, Lang kept up his public advocacy by other means. From 1843, and for the next eighteen years, he served as an elected member of the Legislative Council in New South Wales, where, among many other causes, he campaigned for educational initiatives, governmental reform, and immigration regulation—while intermittently editing three newspapers. John Dunmore Lang was able to sustain his proprietary investment in Australian public life without a formal church-state connection.

Informal Influence without Formal Establishment The pattern of Presbyterians being willing to forego establishment privileges but continuing their efforts to shape public life through informal means is especially well-known because Presbyterians in the United States took that path. When Francis

546   mark a. noll Makemie and other Scottish and Scotch-Irish immigrant ministers began American Presbyterianism in the early eighteenth century, they upheld Reformed theological convictions, sought well-educated ministers, set up presbyteries and synods, engaged wider social concerns, and participated in the era’s transnational religious movements. Yet in the American environment, with its de facto Congregational establishment in New England and Anglican establishments in several other colonies, Presbyterians sought toleration instead of establishment privileges. Later, however, when their numbers increased, colonial Presbyterians did not shy away from seeking establishmentarian support. The College of New Jersey, which relocated to Princeton in 1756, was a Presbyterian venture, though open to Protestant students generally. It sought financial backing from the New Jersey legislature, mostly without success. Some of the era’s Presbyterians also backed an idea, which the Anglican Patrick Henry proposed for Virginia, that religion be supported by tax money that individual tax payers could designate for the churches of their choice. The key Presbyterian leader in the transition from colonial status to national independence was John Witherspoon, president of the College of New Jersey from 1768 until his death in 1794. As a well-known Church of Scotland minister, who in his homeland defended the Kirk’s Popular Party against its elite Moderates, and in America championed numerous educational and political causes and encouraged Princeton students to pursue leadership in the public sphere, Witherspoon was the very model of an establishmentarian Presbyterian. Except that he did not insist on the formal union of church and state. In Scotland, Witherspoon’s Popular Party contended that Moderates not only diluted the Kirk’s evangelical Calvinistic theology, but also jeopardized the church’s independence in its own affairs by kowtowing to the patrons who owned the right to appoint parish ministers (the same issue that would lead a century later to the Disruption). In America, Witherspoon continued to be fully engaged in social and political affairs. Beyond his teaching and preaching at Princeton, and his leadership in reorganizing Presbyterians into a national General Assembly, he served several terms as a New Jersey delegate to the Continental Congress and was the only clergyman to sign the Declaration of Independence. As a patriot, he worked to isolate Loyalists, proposed means for stabilizing the Continental currency, and preached that God’s providence had made independence possible, even as he called Americans to high standards of personal and corporate righteousness. In other words, he took a broad view of what conscientious Presbyterians should be doing to improve society at large. He did not, however, think that church-state union of an old-world sort was required to pursue that improvement. As principles of religious freedom and church-state separation gained ground in America, Witherspoon did not object. Indeed, under his direction the 1787 inaugural General Assembly speedily amended the Westminster Confession’s sanction for church-state interdependence with declarations upholding, instead, “full, free, and unquestioned [religious] liberty” and denying any government the right to “interfere with . . . or hinder . . . the voluntary members of any denomination of Christians.”12

presbyterians and church-state relations   547 After Witherspoon, most Presbyterians (excepting the Covenanters) accepted standard American versions of religious freedom and the separation of church and state. Yet almost all repudiated how the Supreme Court later interpreted Thomas Jefferson’s famous depiction of a “wall” dividing civic and religious spheres, and they continued to exploit many avenues short of establishment in the effort to advance the Kingdom of God on earth. In the nineteenth century, during an era when the social influence of Presbyterians greatly exceeded their numbers on the ground, Presbyterian proprietary concern for public life took various forms. At the most active end stood Theodore Frelinghuysen of New Jersey, the “Christian politician” who ran as Henry Clay’s Whig vice presidential candidate in the election of 1844. Frelinghuysen, at various times a member of the Dutch Reformed and Presbyterian Churches, led campaigns to ban Sunday mails, resist Indian removal, and promote the use of Protestant curricula in public schools. The coming of the Civil War galvanized Presbyterians to blur the lines between church advocacy and state activity. At the Old School General Assembly in the spring of 1861, Gardiner Spring of New York proposed a resolution that demanded that Presbyterians pledge loyalty to the Union. When it passed, southern Old Schoolers walked out, which soon led to the organization of a Southern Presbyterian denomination (later, the Presbyterian Church in the United States) joining New School and Old School elements that had divided in the mid-1830s. Charles Hodge of Princeton Seminary, one of the nation’s most respected theologians, objected that political allegiance should never take precedence over ecclesiastical allegiance. His view was drowned out in the wave of God-and-country patriotism that had engulfed both regions. Southern Presbyterian support for the Confederacy became ardent, despite earlier efforts by leading southern clergymen to defend a doctrine of “the spirituality of the church.” As defined in 1848 by one of the region’s most eminent Presbyterians, James Henley Thornwell, this doctrine, allowed for believers as private individuals to support whatever public programs they chose. However, “the Church of Jesus Christ is a spiritual body,” so no church judiciary could properly “make laws which shall bind the consciences, or to issue recommendations which shall regulate manners, without the warrant, explicit or implied of the revealed will of God.”13 Thornwell and others who defended “the spirituality of the church” objected, as did Lutherans, to the intertwining of religion and politics, a practice that had dominated all Presbyterian history. The objection probably deserved more consideration than it received, particularly in light of the church-state difficulties that marked Presbyterian history—including schisms over church-state questions; violence occasioned by institutional or informal church-state connections; patriotic excesses, especially in wartime; and overbearing ideological influence from educational structures Presbyterians had themselves created. Yet the southern plea for the spirituality of the church was hypocritical because it served to sanction the southern slave system. In 1863, Confederate clergymen published an Address to Christians throughout the World to explain why “dismemberment of the Union . . . was our only deliverance . . . in defense of liberty.” Of the ninety-seven

548   mark a. noll distinguished pastors and educators who signed this blatantly political document, forty-six were Presbyterians—at a time when Baptists, Methodists, and even in some regions Disciples/Christians outnumbered Presbyterians in the southern states.14 After the Civil War, active participation (the way that southern and northern ministers threw themselves into the war effort) remained much more common than the spirituality Thornwell advocated. Presbyterians North and South, such as the ordained clergyman Billy Sunday, campaigned for temperance and then prohibition; some white southern Presbyterians defended Jim Crow segregation; a few black Presbyterians, such as Francis Grimké of Washington, DC, protested when President Woodrow Wilson, a Presbyterian elder, resegregated the federal civil service. Meanwhile, Wilson’s diplomacy during and after World War I reflected Presbyterian connotations when he used the concept of “covenant” to express his ideal for mutually beneficial international relations. American Presbyterians have continued to engage in a wide range of proprietary activities to the present, and many examples of church-state involvement, after the acceptance of voluntarism, have also occurred outside the United States. They include those of George Monro Grant, Canada’s leading Presbyterian in the late nineteenth century, who campaigned for creating the federal Dominion (1867) and practiced a kind of social gospel while remaining faithful to modified Calvinism, and Sun-chu Kil, an early Korean Presbyterian seminary graduate, who signed the 1919 Declaration of Independence that Koreans promulgated against Japanese colonial rule. And Africans have worked to overcome colonial legacies and to address the challenges of the postcolonial present, including the layman J. B. Danquah of the Gold Coast, author of Akan Doctrine of God (1944); the Rev. C. G. Baëta, the first divinity professor at the University of Legon founded in 1949; and the Igbo layman Sir Francis Ibiam, who in 1958 chaired the first meeting of the All African Conference of Churches.

Conclusion The range of Presbyterian stances on church and state has, from one angle, been broad—from committed establishmentarian to wholehearted voluntarist. In addition, Presbyterians who have lived without establishment but still desired to shape public life—which has been the vast majority in recent centuries—shave supported countless social causes. Although these causes have sometimes aimed to achieve antithetical goals, Presbyterians have consistently assumed that service for the Kingdom of God should be public and political as well as spiritual and ecclesiastical. Only a few outliers, such as those who advocated the spirituality of the church, deviate from this overwhelming majority. The association of this minority Presbyterian stance with the defense of American slavery is unfortunate since the well-documented shift from establishmentarian to voluntarist does raise an important interpretive question. In the transition from establishmentarianism to voluntarism, Presbyterians often maintained many of the attitudes, expectations, and habits of behavior that had developed as part of

presbyterians and church-state relations   549 Christendom’s acceptance of church-state establishments. The important interpretive question remains: As they maintained informally what had once been formal, have Presbyterians rescued positive legacies of Christendom or have they retained elements that undermine Christian integrity as much as they came to believe that formal church-state unions undermine that integrity?

Notes 1. D. G. Hart, Calvinism: A History (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013), 296. 2. Jaroslav Pelikan and Valerie Hotchkiss, eds., Creeds and Confessions of Faith in the Christian Tradition, vol. 2: The Reformation Era (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2003), 385 (art. 39). 3. Pelikan and Hotchkiss, Creeds, 2:403, 424, 524. 4. Pelikan and Hotchkiss, 2:636 (art. 23, par. iii). 5. Joseph Moore, “Epilogue,” in Faith and Slavery in the Presbyterian Diaspora, ed. W. H. Taylor and P. C. Messer (Bethlehem, PA: Lehigh University Press, 2016), 252. 6. Quoted in Robert  S.  Paul, The Assembly of the Lord: Politics and Religion in the Westminster Assembly and the “Grand Debate” (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1985), 69. 7. “The Solemn League and Covenant,” in The Constitutional Documents of the Puritan Revolution, 1625–1660, ed. S. R. Gardiner (Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press, 1899), 267–271. 8. Quoted in Martin E. Marty, “Getting beyond ‘The Myth of Christian America,’ ” in The Establishment of Religion: America’s Original Contribution to Religious Liberty, ed. T. Jeremy Gunn and John Witte Jr. (New York: Oxford University Press, 2012), 371; and Gaines M. Foster, Moral Reconstruction: Christian Lobbyists and the Federal Legislation of Morality, 1865–1920 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2002). 9. André du Toit, “South Africa: The Construction of Afrikaner Chosenness,” in Many Are Chosen: Divine Election and Western Nationalism, ed. William R. Hutchinson and Hartmut Lehmann (Minneapolis: Fortress, 1994), 115–140. 10. Allan  K.  Davidson and Peter  J.  Lineham, eds., Transplanted Christianity: Documents Illustrating Aspects of New Zealand Church History, 2nd ed. (Palmerston North, New Zealand: Dunmore Press, 1989), 81. 11. All details are from Mark Hutchinson, “John Dunmore Lang,” in The Australian Dictionary of Evangelical Biography, ed. Brian Dickey (Sydney, AUS: Evangelical History Association, 1994), 209–213. 12. Pelikan and Hotchkiss, Creeds, 2:636n29. 13. The Collected Writings of James Henley Thornwell, 4 vols., ed. J. H. Adger and J. L. Girardeau, (Richmond, VA: Presbyterian Committee of Publication, 1873), 4:469–470. 14. Address to Christians throughout the World: By the Clergy of the Confederate States of America (London: Strangeways and Walden, 1863), 5, 13–15.

Bibliography Benedict, Philip. Christ’ s Churches Purely Reformed: A Social History of Calvinism. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2002. Calvin, John. Institutes of the Christian Religion. Edited by John T. McNeill. Translated by Ford Lewis Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960.

550   mark a. noll Eire, Carlos M. N. Reformations: The Early Modern World, 1450–1650. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2016. Hart, D. G. Calvinism: A History. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013. Mailer, Gideon. John Witherspoon’s American Revolution. Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2017. McNeill, John  T. The History and Character of Calvinism. New York: Oxford University Press, 1967.

chapter 34

Pr esby ter i a ns a n d Soci a l R efor m Gary Scott Smith

Introduction Calvinism’s focus on God’s sovereignty over nations and human affairs, on the doctrine of calling (all Christians have a mandate to serve God through every aspect of their lives), and on civic duty and the common good powerfully impacted the cultural life of nations in which its adherents were numerous, especially Switzerland, the Netherlands, Scotland, England, and America. Scholars have demonstrated that Calvinism contributed ­substantially to the rise of capitalism, development of modern science, advancement of education, and view that Christians should strive to transform culture. Informed and inspired by their Reformed heritage, especially the writings and actions of John Calvin, and their understanding of Scripture, Presbyterians have often been in the forefront of efforts to shape social and cultural practices in accordance with biblical principles. They strongly influenced political, economic, and social life in Scotland (after 1560) and America (after 1730). Through the work of missionaries and the development of indigenous churches, Presbyterians also played a significant role in improving social conditions in Canada, Africa, and Asia in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Calvinists contended that the Christian calling included participating thoughtfully and regularly in political life to glorify God, advance His kingdom, and create a state grounded on biblical principles. Calvinists saw the state as ordained by God to promote the public good and ensure justice. Three fundamental concepts, developed by Scottish Presbyterians in the late 1500s, impacted the development of the state and church in both Great Britain and America in the eighteenth century: nations and political officials were responsible for obeying transcendent laws; the church had a right to govern its own affairs without government interference; and citizens should work to base their governments’ actions and society’s laws on biblical precepts. In both Britain and America, seventeenth-century Puritans argued that governments are responsible to God and His

552   Gary Scott Smith laws and that citizens should govern themselves. These principles, coupled with their emphasis on individual calling, self-discipline, and education, motivated many Reformed Christians to engage in political activities. Many Presbyterians in America, Scotland, Africa, Asia, and Canada worked diligently to reform society and alleviate social ills. Although these endeavors have taken place from 1800 to the present, they were most extensive from 1890 to 1920.

America Thousands of Presbyterians strongly supported the American Revolution. Presbyterian polity and principles helped shape the structure of the government of the United States, and Presbyterians supplied much of the manpower and money that fueled the Benevolent Empire of the Second Great Awakening. Presbyterians also played a larger role in the Social Gospel movement than is often recognized and have worked to remedy many social ills since 1960. The largest Presbyterian body, the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA), has led these enterprises, but members of other smaller denominations, especially United Presbyterians and Reformed Presbyterians, have also worked zealously to reform social conditions and rectify social ills. In the eighteenth century, the PCUSA established the College of New Jersey (now  Princeton University), endorsed American independence, and influenced the ­configuration of the republic’s government through the constitution and organizational structure it implemented in 1788. Their belief in human depravity prompted Presbyterians to call for written constitutions that delineated, limited, and balanced power among the branches and agencies of government and among civil servants. The most notable Presbyterian proponent of separating from Great Britain was John Witherspoon, the president of Princeton. The only cleric to sign the Declaration of Independence, Witherspoon also served several terms in the Continental Congress. The Synod of New York and Philadelphia (the precursor of the General Assembly) was the first religious body to call for overt resistance to Great Britain. Numerous Presbyterian pastors promoted independence, and some even organized regiments to fight the British in the Revolutionary War. In sermons and pamphlets, ministers asserted that God’s laws were superior to the decrees of George III and the acts of the British Parliament. Because people are created in God’s image, clergy argued, they have inalienable rights, which Great Britain had violated. Only Congregationalists supplied as much ideological support, political leaders, and combatants to the Revolution as did Presbyterians. During the antebellum Second Great Awakening, Presbyterians partnered with other Protestants to establish a variety of parachurch organizations to improve society by increasing educational opportunities; reforming prisons; and providing aid to sailors, domestic servants, people with intellectual disabilities, and the destitute. Presbyterians denounced slavery “early and often.” In 1787, the Synod of New York and Philadelphia

Presbyterians and Social Reform   553 lauded the concept of “universal liberty” and praised states for their actions to abolish slavery.1 In 1802, Philadelphia Presbyterians established the Presbyterian Society for the Promotion of Religion in the Benevolent Institutions of the City of Philadelphia to provide religious instruction and aid to prisoners and the poor.2 During the antebellum years, Presbyterians founded dozens of colleges and several seminaries, edited scores of religious and political newspapers, and published countless books on theological, biblical, and social topics. After the PCUSA split into New School and Old School bodies in 1837, the New Schoolers strongly supported humanitarian reform. They viewed their campaigns to promote Sabbath observance, abolitionism, and temperance as helping prepare America for the coming of the great millennial age. Every New School General Assembly from 1846 to 1857 adopted resolutions denouncing slavery and usually exhorted synods and presbyteries to work diligently to abolish this evil. For example, the 1850 Assembly declared that slavery caused “many and great evils to the civil, political and moral interests of those regions where it exists.” The New School did not, however, expel or discipline its several thousand southern slaveholding members.3 From 1880 to 1925, Presbyterians did much to advance the Social Gospel agenda. Like Congregationalists, Episcopalians, and Methodists, Presbyterians established many institutional churches in cities in the early twentieth century to provide services, such as employment bureaus, classes, recreational opportunities, and medical facilities to assist new immigrants and indigent residents of nearby neighborhoods. Mark Matthews’s First Presbyterian Church in Seattle, A.  T.  Pierson’s Bethany Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, and Samuel Holmes’s Westminster Presbyterian Church in Buffalo spearheaded these endeavors. Matthews, Holmes, and Charles Parkhurst, pastor of the Madison Square Presbyterian Church in New York City, led campaigns to improve civic conditions and reform municipal government. Meanwhile, numerous Presbyterians, most notably, John Wanamaker, H. J. (Henry John) Heinz, and John Converse, strove to operate their businesses—department stores, a food company, and a manufacturing establishment—in accordance with Christian teaching and worked to improve education and city government through their philanthropy and political engagement.4 In 1903, the PCUSA created the Workingman’s Department, later called the Department of Church and Labor. Under the leadership of Charles Stelzle, it strove to reduce drunkenness, gambling, prostitution, Sunday work, and unsanitary and unsafe conditions in tenements and factories. Speaking for Presbyterian progressives, Stelzle declared that Christianity sought “to bring heaven down to earth.”5 He called for passing child labor laws, providing workers’ compensation, and improving housing, and founded the Labor Temple in lower Manhattan to provide for the spiritual and material needs of its working-class residents.6 By 1910, the PCUSA had founded more than a hundred industrial training schools and forty centers to aid immigrants. That year a special committee presented a report to the General Assembly titled “The Christian Solution to the Social Problem.” It advocated a more equitable distribution of wealth, better sanitation systems in the cities, and more

554   Gary Scott Smith humane treatment of the handicapped and prisoners. The report urged both companies and labor unions to operate in accordance with biblical principles, end child labor, and furnish more financial assistance to the elderly.7 A 1912 report to the General Assembly, titled “Safeguarding Social Service in the Life of the Church,” encouraged congregations to supply people’s physical and social needs, work to reduce crime and vice, upgrade educational and employment opportunities for the lower classes, improve working and housing conditions and public health, and combat the liquor trust. In 1914 the PCUSA, United Presbyterian Church in North America, the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), and Associate Reformed Presbyterian Synod issued a “United Declaration of Christian Faith and Social Service.” Based on a distinctively Reformed perspective of creation, fall, redemption, and the mission of the church, it urged all religious bodies to denounce social injustice and exhorted individuals to embody “love, justice, and truth” in all their political, economic, and social activities.8 Many Presbyterians insisted that Christians were commanded to bring all life under Christ’s dominion and that the individual and social dimensions of the gospel were complementary. William Jennings Bryan, a three-time Democratic nominee for president and secretary of state under Woodrow Wilson, was a leading Presbyterian reformer from the 1890s until his death in 1925. Although Bryan is best known today as the prosecutor in the 1925 Scopes Trial, he was a highly respected politician during the Progressive era. He campaigned for a federal income tax, a minimum wage, popular election of US senators, greater government regulation of business and industry, temperance, and world peace. Bryan sought to convince Christians to engage in political, economic, and social reform through the church and the government, especially to improve monetary policy, regulate trusts, give women the right to vote, reduce arms, and prevent American imperialism. To create a more Christian nation, he also called for reduced working hours, permitting workers to bargain collectively, and curbing the use of injunctions in labor disputes.9 During the 1920s and 1930s, Henry Sloane Coffin epitomized the approach numerous more liberal PCUSA pastors took toward social reform. He criticized churches for ignoring the social dimension of the gospel and strove to apply biblical principles to education, government, and business “to make the world the Kingdom of God.” Like leading proponents of the Social Gospel, he insisted that bringing God’s kingdom required redeeming “families, nations, and races.” A kingdom-based workplace, he argued, would provide jobs for all who wanted to work and pay a livable wage to every employee.10 Clarence Macartney, pastor of First Presbyterian Church in Pittsburgh; Charles Erdman, a professor of theology at Princeton Theological Seminary; and Robert Speer, a missions administrator, expressed the zeal of many PCUSA pastors and laypeople for preserving the traditional family and conventional morality, which was under assault by secular forces after World War I. They strove to stop the desecration of the Sabbath, supported Prohibition, and called on the government to ensure law and order. They insisted that the abuse of alcohol caused crime, undermined public health, and hurt the economy by reducing productivity.11 Bryan, Coffin, Macartney Erdman, and Speer, speaking for most American Presbyterians, insisted that the church had a major role to play in reforming society

Presbyterians and Social Reform   555 and preserving traditional moral standards and practices. They all asserted that Christians must strive to base their nations’ institutions and corporate life on biblical norms and values.12 Smaller Presbyterian denominations also worked to restructure American institutions and improve social conditions. For example, United Presbyterians, who were concentrated in Ohio, Pennsylvania, and New York, worked diligently to help women win the right to vote, provide political and social equality for blacks, and improve factory conditions. Reformed Presbyterians adopted a distinctive doctrine of political dissent; they contended that church members must not vote or serve in government offices in a nation whose Constitution did not recognize the ultimate authority of Jesus Christ. They helped to organize the National Reform Association after the Civil War to combat secularization and to revise the preamble to the Constitution to make the federal government explicitly Christian. Reformed Presbyterians were also ardent abolitionists and strongly supported temperance, labor reform, and efforts to aid the poor.13 Members of the PCUS engaged less in social activism than other Presbyterians in large part because most of them believed that the church was an exclusively spiritual entity and should avoid involvement in civil affairs. Efforts to improve the world, instruct the government, feed the hungry, or denounce social injustice allegedly distracted congregations from their spiritual calling to preach the gospel, evangelize, and nurture believers. Nevertheless, some southern Presbyterians promoted social reforms, most notably editor Alexander McKelway, businessman John Eagan, and professor Walter Lingle. McKelway helped lead efforts to pass national child-labor laws. Eagan strove to promote racial justice and to base his foundry in Birmingham, Alabama, on biblical principles. Lingle advanced social reform by teaching at Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, Virginia, writing articles and books, and pastoring First Presbyterian Church in Atlanta.14 In the early twentieth century, the PCUS founded numerous schools for blacks, immigrants, and Indians and, especially, for children in Appalachia. By 1910 it was operating fifty-nine “mountain” schools that taught academic subjects and provided industrial and agricultural training for boys and domestic instruction for girls. As with other Presbyterian denominations, women did much of the practical work, promoting social improvement through their work as school teachers, church deacons, and settlement house staff.15 During the middle third of the twentieth century, the PCUS began to address racial, labor, and peace issues. Its 1935 General Assembly insisted that Christians must deal with social evils that threatened people’s moral and spiritual development.16 In 1936, the PCUS’s newly created Committee on Moral and Social Welfare deplored the discrimination blacks faced in American society. Its 1954 General Assembly asserted that “enforced segregation” was “out of harmony with Christian theology and ethics” and urged Americans to support Brown v. the Board of Education.17 In 1936, the PCUSA created a Department of Social Education and Action to promote social reform. Since the 1960s, more theologically liberal Presbyterians have accentuated the importance of structural reforms and have worked to reduce militarism, poverty, hunger, environmental degradation, racism, sexism, and other forms of social injustice. Their stances and actions have produced much debate and dissension among

556   Gary Scott Smith Presbyterians. In 1963 the denomination, now officially named the United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA) following the 1958 merger of the PCUSA and the United Presbyterian Church of North America, established the Commission on Religion and Race, which instructed UPCUSA boards, judicatories, and congregations to avoid racial bias in electing and hiring pastors and lay leaders. Commission members also strove to remedy the unemployment, housing, and educational problems in northern cities. During the 1970s, the UPCUSA Advisory Council on Church and Society worked to reduce hunger, poverty, and alcohol abuse and to improve housing and international relations, reform penology, and assist the elderly.18 Since the late 1970s the positions on social issues taken by some UPCUSA pastors and the General Assembly, (of what is now called Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) after the 1983 merger of the UPCUSA and the PCUS) especially on same-sex marriage and the ordination of practicing gay individuals, the sanctuary movement, and peacemaking, have caused great controversy. In 1987 the Assembly urged the government to abolish laws regulating private sexual behavior between consenting adults and to pass laws forbidding discrimination based on sexual orientation in employment, housing, and public accommodations. In 1991, a special Committee on Human Sexuality advocated endorsing all sexual relationships, including homosexual and extramarital ones, which were based on “justice-love.” Critics complained that the PC(USA) was trying to appeal to contemporary culture by abandoning its historic creeds. In 1997, a majority of presbyteries approved amending the Book of Order to require church officers to live “in fidelity within the covenant of marriage between man and woman or chastity in singleness.” The decision was repeatedly challenged by same-sex marriage advocacy groups, however, and in 2011 presbyteries approved an amendment to the constitution removing this requirement and empowering individual presbyteries to assess a candidate’s “calling, gifts, preparation, and suitability for the responsibilities of office,” paving the way for those practicing same-sex marriage to be ordained.19 The sanctuary movement emerged in the early 1980s when the Immigration and Naturalization Service refused to grant migrants from war-ravaged nations in Central America the status of political refugees. Although only twenty-five PCUSA congregations declared themselves to be sanctuaries for the refugees, a General Assembly task force endorsed their actions. The vast majority of PCUSA members, however, considered this ministry to be inappropriate because it directly violated federal laws.20 During the 1950s, the PCUSA General Assembly had sharply criticized the strident anticommunist rhetoric of the Eisenhower administration, and during the 1960s, it often deplored American intervention in Vietnam. The Assembly’s actions became more controversial in the 1980s when two reports—”Peacemaking: The Believer’s Calling” and “Presbyterians and Peacemaking: Are We Now Called to Resistance?”—denounced the government’s nuclear weapons policy as immoral. Presbyterians for Democracy and Religious Freedom and the Presbyterian Peacemaking Corp objected to the argument in these documents that the United States and the Soviet Union were morally equivalent, and protested that the denomination was speaking about issues on which its leaders had no special competence and on which PC(USA) members were deeply divided.21 Although their rich theological and historical heritage has empowered many Presbyterians to engage in constructive social reforms, they have generally not played

Presbyterians and Social Reform   557 as great a role in endeavors to alleviate America’s social problems as Methodists, Episcopalians, Congregationalists, and Baptists. Several factors inhibited their involvement, especially their social conservatism and a privileged socioeconomic status that often sheltered them from direct contact with social ills. Presbyterians have ­frequently concentrated on trying to change individual practices such as drinking, gambling, and Sabbath desecration, largely overlooking institutional structures that gave rise to more serious social problems. Presbyterians have generally focused much more on preserving biblical orthodoxy, advancing scholarship, crafting sermons, and evangelizing than working to abate major social evils. Nevertheless, as noted, their contributions to social reform in America have been substantial.

Scotland In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Thomas Chalmers and progressive clergy in Scotland led efforts to remedy social ills. A pastor, educator, and ecclesiastical reformer, Chalmers devised programs to aid the low-income residents of Scotland’s growing cities; through his example, he influenced many Presbyterians in Scotland and England to view the church as a force for reforming society.22 Responding to the social dislocations industrialization and urbanization produced in nineteenth-century Britain, he strove to create a “godly commonwealth” that embodied the Calvinist conviction that social, political, and economic life should be directed by biblical principles. In such a society, citizens would share nature’s bounty, promote the public good, provide fair prices for goods and services, and treat the sick and poor benevolently. To create this commonwealth, Chalmers urged Christian philanthropists to form societies to investigate social conditions, organize schools, and establish churches in working-class neighborhoods. Chalmers failed to convince most individuals to subordinate their self-interest to the public good, but he helped increase public awareness of social ills, increased discussion of “the causes and cures of industrial poverty,” motivated many Scots to work to improve social conditions, had a significant impact on the nation’s social welfare policies in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries, and influenced the rise of the Social Gospel in the United States. By the 1880s, many members of all three Presbyterian denominations in Scotland— the established Church of Scotland, the Free Church (formed in 1843), and the United Presbyterian Church (created in 1847)—which collectively included more than 80 percent of Scotland’s churchgoers, were appalled by the poverty in the rapidly industrializing nation. They sought to help them primarily by saving their souls and elevating their moral practices, but these Presbyterians also saw illiteracy, intemperance, and extreme destitution as barriers to people responding to the gospel and living righteously and strove to remove them.23 Some Scottish Presbyterians supported the agenda of the labor movement and criticized hazardous working and living conditions. Instead of blaming destitution on the flaws of the individuals, some Presbyterians argued that social factors, such as inadequate wages, played a significant role.24

558   Gary Scott Smith In the late nineteenth century and the early twentieth century, Church of Scotland leaders advocated a more equitable division of wealth and criticized the church for sanctioning social inequality. Leading Presbyterian progressives, such as pastor David Ross, argued that the task of Christianity “is not merely to save individuals, but to regenerate society.” David Watson, minister of St. Clement’s Parish Church in Glasgow, helped found the Scottish Christian Social Union, served on several Church of Scotland committees that sought to remedy social ills, and penned Social Problems and the Church’s Duty (1908) and The Social Expression of Christianity (1919).25 In the 1910s, task forces of the United Free Church and the Church of Scotland investigated social conditions and called for greater social equality. Both denominations organized conferences at which church and labor leaders explored ways to coordinate their actions to reduce unemployment and improve housing. In 1918, for instance, the two denominations invited social policy and social welfare experts to discuss housing, relief of the poor, and industrial unrest; this produced a book titled Social Evils and Problems.26

Canada Like Presbyterians in the United States and Scotland, those in Canada focused primarily on the moral regeneration of individuals as the best way to curb such social ills as gambling, intemperance, poverty, political corruption, and prostitution. After 1890, as they dealt with the problems urbanization and industrialization caused, they began, however, to pay greater attention to environmental factors and the importance of structural reforms. The 1906 General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in Canada created the Department of Moral and Social Reform, which addressed social issues from this perspective. Like some American Presbyterians, Canadian ones established social settlements, primarily in Toronto (most notably, St. Christopher House), Montreal, Vancouver, and Winnipeg in the 1910s that sponsored language classes, medical clinics, employment bureaus, clothing ministries, recreational facilities, reading rooms, counseling, and other social services.27 Six Presbyterian ministers serving congregations in Toronto—Charles William Gordon, John Shearer, James Macdonald, George Pidgeon, Robert Falconer, and Thomas Kilpatrick—led their denomination in articulating and implementing social Christianity, in part through the Board of Social Service and Evangelism, which spearheaded social reform efforts in the early twentieth century. They partnered with Canada’s professional and business leaders to make the nation’s “social and economic system work more harmoniously and efficiently” and to assimilate immigrants and the poor into middle-class Protestant culture. Canadian Presbyterians strove to provide better jobs, more food, and greater opportunities for the destitute and immigrants in Canada’s cities and on the Western frontier. They held congresses, wrote books, and sought to convert individuals, restructure social institutions, improve

Presbyterians and Social Reform   559 the nation’s moral character, eradicate political corruption, and create “a safe and healthy industrial system” and a “social order built on co-operation, compromise and self-sacrifice.”28 In the 1960s and early 1970s, the Canadian Presbyterian Church condemned anti-Semitism, worked to aid the elderly and the unemployed, censored pornography, supported therapeutic abortions, interracial marriages, and more liberal divorce laws, and called for a “just settlement” of the conflict in the Middle East.29

Africa Since the 1820s, Presbyterian missionaries from Scotland and the United States and native Africans have worked to abate social evils and improve social institutions and practices in various African countries. The Presbyterian Synod of New York and New Jersey founded a school in the 1820s to prepare ex-slaves to serve as ministers and magistrates in Liberia who would promote Christianity, civilization, and free institutions in the newly established country.30 Presbyterians persistently strove to reform social conditions in several parts of Africa during the precolonial period (before 1880). In Nigeria, they provided asylum for individuals accused of witchcraft, helped end human sacrifice, substitutionary punishment (punishing slaves for their masters’ offenses), and slavery itself; made infanticide a capital offense; and strove to guarantee religious freedom.31 In Christian Missions and Social Progress (1897), Presbyterian James Dennis praised his denomination and numerous others for opposing the liquor and opium traffic, reducing gambling, helping Africans adopt a good work ethic, and elevating the status of women. Although evangelism was still their highest priority, missionaries were working to bring about “the social regeneration of the world.”32 Presbyterian endeavors to improve social conditions in Africa centered on education and medicine. In 1862, Presbyterians opened a boarding school for girls in Calabar in southern Nigeria that provided instruction in the Christian faith and Victorian household arts. By the late nineteenth century, the school was teaching domestic science, hygiene, farming, first aid, and African and European cooking. In 1895, the Scottish United Presbyterian Mission founded Nigeria’s “most ambitious and comprehensive industrial education scheme”—the Hope Waddell Institute, which offered classes in carpentry, masonry, blacksmithing, coopering, and naval engineering for boys and domestic science and dress-making for girls.33 Presbyterians partnered with Methodists and Anglicans to found the Women’s Training College in Umuahia in southeastern Nigeria in 1934. Although its principal aim was to prepare its students to be wives and homemakers, it also educated women to be professionals. By 1958, Presbyterian schools were educating about one-sixth of all school children in Ghana.34 Two years later, the Presbyterian Church of Nigeria operated a school system that had two thousand teachers

560   Gary Scott Smith and sixty thousand students.35 In 1987 Presbyterians in the central part of the Congo founded the University of Lapsley and Sheppard, and in 1991, Presbyterians established Nile Theological College in Khartoum, Sudan, which has trained hundreds of pastors.36 In 1891, the Missionary Society of the United Presbyterian College established a medical station at Unwana in eastern Nigeria. Presbyterians opened a second hospital in Calabar, Nigeria around the same time. Harry Hastings and A. B. Macdonald led Presbyterian medical work in Nigeria from 1920 to 1950. They treated thousands of patients, primarily children, at a hospital in southeastern part of the country, giving them injections that cleared up yaws (which could lead to anemia and debility) and syphilis, and they made significant progress in treating leprosy. Until Nigeria gained its independence in 1960, Presbyterians operated more medical establishments there than any other denomination.37 By the early twentieth century, the Presbyterian church in the Congo, which had about two million members, sponsored four hospitals. Built in 1975, Good Shepherd Hospital near Kananga, the most impressive one, provides services in obstetrics and community health. American Presbyterians refurbished a hospital in northern Malawi in the late 1980s, doubled its beds to 155 and expanded its services, especially to combat malnutrition. They also dug many wells and stocked fish farms to improve the country’s food supply. In the early 1990s, two Scottish Presbyterians physicians convinced the Medical Benevolence Foundation to send numerous medical staff to significantly increase the services provided by a Presbyterian hospital in Kikuyu, Kenya; the foundation also established one of the best eye centers in East Africa.38 Presbyterian missionaries sometimes protested the exploitive policies of European nations and companies. Two Presbyterian missionaries, for example, William Henry Sheppard an African American, and William Morrison, who was white, denounced King Leopold of Belgium for using several companies to help him dominate the Congo. They accused the Kasai Rubber Company of poorly treating its Congolese employees and publicized atrocities the Belgians committed against the Kuba and Congolese tribes. Sheppard and Morrison also established the Congo Reform Association to coordinate efforts to stop this carnage. Their protests intensified international pressure on Leopold and the Kasai Company to halt their brutal policies and practices.39 Timothy Njoya, a staunch critic of the corruption and unjust rule of the Kenyan government, is a more recent, indigenous example of Presbyterian political activism. Njoya, who earned a doctorate degree at Princeton University and served several congregations in Kenya, advocated multiple political parties and demanded that the government honor constitutional promises of freedom of association and expression. Despite being arrested several times, beaten by the police, and defrocked for a while, Njoya led religious leaders in promoting democracy and helped found an opposition party in 1992.40 After 1960, numerous UPCUSA leaders argued that social justice, reconciliation, peacemaking, sustainable economic development, and ecology were an integral part of the gospel, prompting many Presbyterian missionaries in Africa to structure their

Presbyterians and Social Reform   561 ministries around these emphases rather than evangelism and church planting, which they considered too imperialistic, manipulative, and individualistic.41

Asia Like their counterparts in Africa, Presbyterians in Asia sought to improve nations by founding schools and medical facilities and denouncing social evils and the actions of oppressive governments. Beginning in the late nineteenth century, Presbyterian ­missionaries worked energetically to upgrade social conditions in China by establishing schools, private associations, and newspapers. By 1900, about forty thousand Chinese students were attending Christian institutions, many of which were operated by Presbyterians. Mission schools prepared their students for important jobs in businesses and government agencies. Moreover, mission schools educated females, who were largely excluded from China’s traditional education system.42 In addition, Presbyterian missionaries helped found various societies to aid various Chinese groups or to remedy specific social problems. They created anti-foot-binding leagues to prevent millions of young girls from having their feet deformed. Presbyterian missionaries deplored the opium trade and helped to pass a 1906 bill in the British Parliament and evoke an imperial edict that led to the closing of thousands of opium dens and substantially reduced the number of Chinese opium users and addicts. The Presbyterian press produced much of the literature that attacked government corruption and called for democracy.43 In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, Presbyterian missionaries undertook various educational, medical, and humanitarian enterprises in Korea to aid individuals, propagate the Christian faith, and contest Confucian values and customs. Their provision of schools and hospitals made them welcome in Korea and opened the door for evangelism and church planting. These activities especially benefited the poor, who were often the first Koreans to receive modern education, medical treatment, and other social services.44 In Korea’s Confucian, male-dominated society, women were discriminated against in many ways. Presbyterians helped give them a new sense of dignity and worth by sponsoring schools for girls, classes and societies for women, and literacy programs for older women.45 Christian doctors and nurses established the first modern hospitals and dispensaries in Korea as well as its first school to train nurses, leprosarium, and tuberculosis sanitarium. Missionaries limited the impact of epidemics, including Asiatic cholera, bubonic plague, and smallpox and pioneered in providing public health services and improving sanitation. Presbyterians established several hospitals to help Korean peasants gain access to medical care; these hospitals treated many patients for free. Presbyterians led the way in treating lepers and tuberculosis, and in the early twentieth century created an institution to train physicians.46 The Wilson Leprosy Center and Rehabilitation Hospital, founded

562   Gary Scott Smith in the 1920s, had by the 1980s shifted from providing custodial care to focusing on treatment and rehabilitation. The Presbyterian Medical Center in Chonju created a flourishing rural health program, and in 1982 alone treated 156,000 outpatients, admitted almost 13,000 patients, and performed almost 7,400 operations.47 To meet the growing demand for Christian higher education, Presbyterians founded three colleges: Union Christian College (Soong Sil College) in Pyongyang, in 1897, Keimyung Christian College in Taegu in 1954, and Taejon Christian College in  1955, which educated many pastors and Christian laypeople. The Presbyterian Church of Korea opened Seoul Women’s College in 1961 to train girls to participate in rural community development. In the 1960s the enrollment of Presbyterian secondary schools doubled and numerous Bible schools were opened. Founded in 1901 by Samuel Moffett, by the mid-1980s, the Presbyterian Theological Seminary had twenty-four hundred students, making it one of the largest Presbyterian seminaries in the world.48 Presbyterians, who outnumbered the combined membership of all other major denominations in Korea two to one for much of the twentieth century, played a prominent role in political protests, in part because Presbyterian polity both attracted individuals who felt alienated by the Confucian establishment and enabled church members to gain skills and experience in self-government. During the colonial years (1910–1945), when Japan outlawed all political and social organizations, churches organized protests against Japanese policies and led Korea’s quest to gain independence.49 For Christians, whose patriotism had previously been questioned in Korea, state Shintoism, which was revived in the early 1920s to increase loyalty to the nation, “brought the classic confrontation between Christ and Caesar.” When the government commanded all staff and students of Christian schools and colleges to pay obeisance to the spirits at Shinto shrines, both missionaries and Korean church leaders were divided. Some insisted that the ceremonies were purely patriotic, but most Presbyterian missionaries concluded that the shrine ceremony was a form of idolatry.50 Many Presbyterians were among the approximately three thousand Christians who were imprisoned in the 1930s for refusing to participate in these ceremonies (fifty of whom were martyred).51 Presbyterians also worked energetically to help Korea recover from the devastation it experienced during World War II. They engaged in relief, restoration, and rehabilitation, establishing homes for the nation’s 210,000 orphans and 300,000 widows and aiding amputees, lepers, the blind, the deaf, and crippled children.52 Since 1945, Presbyterians have strongly supported human rights in South Korea and have participated in numerous protests to restore democratically elected governments and civil and religious liberties denied by various regimes.53 In 1945 Kyung Chik Han, a graduate of Soong Sil College and Princeton Theological Seminary, organized the first political party in the northern part of Korea—the Christian Social Democratic Party, which strove to reform society according to biblical principles. After war broke out in 1950, he led many Christian refugees to Seoul and established a church of twelve thousand members that sponsored a widows’ home, a high school, and a radio program.54 After seizing power in 1963, Chung-Hee Park ruled as a dictator and created a hostile environment for the church. When Park discarded the Korean constitution in 1972 and

Presbyterians and Social Reform   563 further expanded his power, Presbyterians increased their protests. Along with members of other denominations, they boldly criticized his oppressive rule by fasting and holding prayer meetings. In 1973 many Presbyterians signed the Theological Declaration of Korean Christians to protest the government’s inference with the church’s ministry and Park’s mistreatment of political opponents, use of torture, economic exploitation, and other unjust policies.55 In the 1970s and 1980s, Pak Hyonggyu, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Seoul, helped lead efforts to oppose Park and the dictators who succeeded him. Other Presbyterians worked diligently to improve South Korean society. Especially notable is businessman Hyung Nam Kim. He raised wages, reduced working hours, and improved the living conditions of his employees at a large cotton mill. Kim provided a church, a kindergarten, a clinic, a library, and classes. In addition, Kim helped re-establish Soong Jun University and served for several years as its president.56

Conclusion Most Presbyterians throughout history have argued that the best way to improve social conditions is to convert individuals. Regenerated people, they have insisted, will act virtuously and work in various ways to abate social problems. This belief sometimes limited the efforts of Presbyterians to restructure institutions to provide greater social justice and economic equality. At the same time, many Presbyterians have maintained that God’s word supplies norms to direct government, education, society, and all other areas of life. Thus, while often disagreeing about how best to address specific issues, millions of them have worked through their congregations, the political process, educational institutions, and parachurch organizations to improve the nations in which they live. Their efforts to create just social orders, alleviate poverty, end discrimination, and aid the least of these in America, Scotland, Canada, Africa, and Asia have produced much good fruit.

Notes 1. George Marsden, The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970), 89. 2. Bradley Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 74–75. 3. Marsden, Evangelical Mind, 100–101, 186; and Minutes of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (New York: General Assembly, 1855), 11:403. 4. See Gary Scott Smith, The Search for Social Salvation: Social Christianity and America, 1880–1925 (Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2000), 43–44, 83, 84, 245–258, 335–336, 368, 382, 396, 450–451.

564   Gary Scott Smith 5. Quoted in Charles Hopkins, The Rise of the Social Gospel in American Protestantism (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1940), 282. 6. See George  H.  Nash III, “Charles Stelzle: Apostle to Labor,” Labor History 11 (1970): 151–174. 7. Richard Poethig, “Urban/Metropolitan Mission Policies: An Historical Overview,” Journal of Presbyterian History 57 (1979): 316, 319; and Gary Scott Smith, “Conservative Presbyterians: The Gospel, Social Reform, and the Church in the Progressive Era,” American Presbyterians 70 (1992): 94–95. 8. Minutes of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (1914), 52–54. See Smith, “Conservative Presbyterians,” 97–98. 9. Bradley Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 58, 67, 97; and Michael Kazin, A Godly Hero: The Life of William Jennings Bryan (New York: Anchor, 2007). 10. Henry Sloane Coffin, Some Christian Convictions (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1925), 203 (first quotation); Coffin, What to Preach (New York: Richard Smith, 1926), 103 (second quotation); and Coffin, A More Christian Industrial Order (New York: Macmillan, 1920), 22–23. See also Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 95, 96, 99. 11. Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 72, 144–146, 199, 122, 207, 228; and Clarence Macartney, “Two Years of Prohibition in Philadelphia,” Presbyterian, March 16, 1922, 9–10, 26. 12. D. G. Hart and John Muether, Seeking a Better Country (Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian and Reformed, 2007), 203; and Longfield, Presbyterian Controversy, 107. 13. Smith, Search for Social Salvation, 335, 369, 401, 404, 407, 452. 14. See Wayne Flynt, Southern Religion and Christian Diversity on the Twentieth Century (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2016), 97, 102–104, 112–133. 15. Flynt, Southern Religion, 105, 113, 124. 16. Lefferts Loetscher, A Brief History of the Presbyterians (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1983), 122. 17. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 192–193. 18. Loetscher, Brief History, 157–161. 19. Sharon Youngs, “Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) Approves Change in Ordination Standard,” May 10, 2011, https://www.pcusa.org/news/2011/5/10/presbyterian-church-us-approveschange-ordination/. 20. Mark Englund-Krieger, The Presbyterian Pendulum: Seeing Providence in the Wild Diversity of the Church (Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock, 2010), 164–169. 21. Englund-Krieger, Presbyterian Pendulum, 169–178. 22. Stewart Brown, Thomas Chalmers and the Godly Commonwealth in Scotland (New York: Oxford University Press, 1982), xiii, xv, xvi, 350–351, 371–372, 377, 378, quotation on 372. 23. Stewart Brown, “Reform, Reconstruction, Reaction: The Social Vision of Scottish Presbyterianism, c. 1830–c. 1930,” Scottish Journal of Theology 44 (1991): 493. 24. John Stewart, “ ‘Christ’s Kingdom in Scotland’: Scottish Presbyterianism, Social Reform, and the Edwardian Crisis,” Twentieth Century British History 12, no. 1 (2001): 4, 9 (quotation). 25. Brown, “Reform, Reconstruction, Reaction,” 498–499; and David Ross, “Christianity and Socialism,” in A. B. Bruce, John F. Ewing, and David Somerville, Christianity and Social Life: A Course of Lectures (Edinburgh, 1885), 76.

Presbyterians and Social Reform   565 26. Brown, “Reform, Reconstruction, Reaction,” 502–503, 506; and Callum Brown, “ ‘Each Take Off Their Several Way’: The Protestant Churches and the Working Classes in Scotland,” in Sermons and Battle Hymns: Protestant Culture in Modern Scotland, ed. Graham Walker and Tom Gallagher (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1990), 79. 27. John Moir, Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada (Don Mills, ON: Presbyterian Church in Canada, 2004), 175, 179, 185. 28. Brian Fraser, The Social Uplifters: Presbyterian Progressives and the Social Gospel in Canada, 1875–1915 (Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2008), x, xii (first quotation), xiii, 78–95, 119–120, 176 (second and third quotations). 29. Moir, Enduring Witness, 271–272. 30. Fred Hood, “The American Reformed Tradition in African Colonization and Missions,” Journal of Church and State 19 (1977): 553. 31. Geoffrey Johnston, Of God and Maxim Guns: Presbyterians in Nigeria, 1846–1966 (Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2014), 244–263. 32. James Dennis, Christian Missions and Social Progress, 3 vols. (New York: Revell, 1897), 1:23 (quotation), 43–47. 33. Johnston, God and Maxim Guns, 221–222, 224; and E. A. Ayandele, The Missionary Impact on Modern Nigeria, 1842–1914: A Political and Social Analysis (London: Longman, 1966), 297–298, quotation on 297. 34. Noel Smith, The Presbyterian Church of Ghana, 1835–1960 (Accra: Ghana Universities Press, 1966), 165. 35. Johnston, God and Maxim Guns, 95. 36. William  B.  Anderson, “Africa,” in A History of Presbyterian Missions, 1944–2007, ed. Scott W. Sunquist and Caroline Becker (Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2007), 247. 37. Johnston, God and Maxim Guns, 193, 196–206, 210. 38. Anderson, “Africa,” in Sunquist and Becker, History of Presbyterian Missions, 247, 253–255. 39. Katja Füllberg-Stolberg, “African Americans in Africa: Black Missionaries and the ‘Congo Atrocities,’ 1890–1910,” in Black Imagination and the Middle Passage, ed. Maria Diedrich, Henry Louis Gates, and Carl Pedersen (New York: Oxford University Press, 1999), 215–227; William E. Phipps, William Sheppard: Congo’s African-American Livingstone (Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2002); and Stanley Shaloff, “Presbyterians and Belgian Congo Exploitation: The Compagnie du Kasai v. Morrison and Sheppard,” Journal of Presbyterian History 47 (1969): 173–194. 40. “Timothy Murere Njoya,” http://timothynjoya.com/profile.html; Odhiamno Okite, “Nairobi: Kenya’s Bloody Witness,” https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2001/february5/27.25. html; and Timothy Njoya, Human Dignity and National Identity: Essentials for Social Ethics (Nairobi, Kenya: Press Trust Printers, 1987). 41. Sherron George, “Faithfulness through the Storm: Changing Theology of Mission,” in History of Presbyterian Missions, 98. 42. G. Thompson Brown, Earthen Vessels and Transcendent Power: American Presbyterians in China, 1837–1952 (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1997), 130. 43. Brown, Earthen Vessels, 131–133. 44. Chung-Shin Park, Protestantism and Politics in Korea (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003), 58–60; and Samuel Moffett, The Christians of Korea (New York: Friendship Press, 1962), 122.

566   Gary Scott Smith 45. G.  Thompson Brown, Not by Might: A Century of Presbyterians in Korea (Atlanta, GA: General Assembly Mission Board, PC[USA], 1984), 10. 46. Moffett, Christians of Korea, 157, 166; Brown, Not by Might, 10–11. 47. Brown, Not by Might, 25; and Samuel Hugh Moffett, “Korea,” in The Church in Asia, ed. Donald Hoke (Chicago: Moody Press, 1975), 371. 48. Brown, Not by Might, 18, 24. 49. Park, Protestantism and Politics, 104–106. 50. Brown, Not by Might, 11. 51. Moffett, “Korea,” in Hoke, Church in Asia, 379. 52. Harry Rhodes and Archibald Campbell, eds., History of the Korean Mission, Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., vol. 2: 1935–1959 (New York: Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations, 1964), 320–343. 53. Brown, Not by Might, 22, 27. 54. Rhodes and Campbell, History of the Korean Mission, 115–116. 55. Seong-Won Park, Worship in the Presbyterian Church in Korea: Its Implications and History (Frankfurt, GE: Peter Lang, 2001), 122–124. 56. G. Thompson Brown, “A Man, a Mill and a Church,” Presbyterian Survey, August 1959, 22–23.

Bibliography Anderson, William  B. “Africa.” In A History of Presbyterian Missions, 1944–2007, edited by Scott W. Sunquist and Caroline Becker, 234–255. Louisville, KY: Geneva Press, 2007. Brown, G.  Thompson. Earthen Vessels and Transcendent Power: American Presbyterians in China, 1837–1952. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1997. Brown, G. Thompson. Not by Might: A Century of Presbyterians in Korea. Atlanta, GA: General Assembly Mission Board, PC(USA) 1984. Brown, Stewart. “Reform, Reconstruction, Reaction: The Social Vision of Scottish Presbyterianism c. 1830–c. 1930.” Scottish Journal of Theology 44 (1991): 489–517. Brown, Stewart. Thomas Chalmers and the Godly Commonwealth in Scotland. New York: Oxford University Press, 1982. Fraser, Brian. The Social Uplifters: Presbyterian Progressives and the Social Gospel in Canada, 1875–1915. Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2008. Johnston, Geoffrey. Of God and Maxim Guns: Presbyterians in Nigeria, 1846–1966. Waterloo, ON: Wilfrid Laurier University Press, 2014. Longfield, Bradley. The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists, Modernists, and Moderates. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Longfield, Bradley. Presbyterians and American Culture: A History. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Marsden, George. The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1970. Moir, John. Enduring Witness: A History of the Presbyterian Church in Canada. Don Mills, ON: Presbyterian Church in Canada, 2004. Park, Chung-Shin. Protestantism and Politics in Korea. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2003.

Presbyterians and Social Reform   567 Rhodes, Harry, and Archibald Campbell, eds. History of the Korean Mission, Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A., vol. 2: 1935–1959. New York: Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations, 1964. Smith, Gary Scott. “Conservative Presbyterians: The Gospel, Social Reform, and the Church in the Progressive Era.” American Presbyterians 70 (1992): 93–110. Smith, Gary Scott. The Search for Social Salvation: Social Christianity and America, 1880–1925. Lanham, MD: Lexington, 2000. Stewart, John. “ ‘Christ’s Kingdom in Scotland’: Scottish Presbyterianism, Social Reform, and the Edwardian Crisis.” Twentieth Century British History 12 (2001): 1–22.

chapter 35

Pr esby ter i a ns a n d Higher Education R. Tyler Derreth and David S. Guthrie

Introduction Presbyterians have played a leading role in the history of higher education in the United States and several other locales. In fact, Donald Tewksbury contended that Presbyterians were “more closely identified with the development of institutions of higher education in America than any other church in the period before the Civil War.”1 Richard Hofstadter amplified Tewksbury’s view: “The Methodists and Baptists, although in most places far more numerous than the Presbyterians, were not nearly as interested or competent in the educational sphere.” Presbyterians “possessed an ardent concern for dogma, a rigorous spirit, [and] a consistent interest in education.”2 Other historians of higher education also accentuate the significant roles Presbyterians played in founding colleges and universities, particularly from colonial times to the end of the nineteenth century.3 Our treatment of Presbyterians and higher education has two emphases. First, we explore what we call Presbyterian ideals and the ways in which these ideals were expressed over two centuries, using Princeton as an example. Then, we explore the by-product of the Presbyterian ideals—differentiation, or diversity—to explain how it may be a useful lens for understanding contemporary Presbyterian higher education. We conclude by briefly ruminating about future directions of Presbyterian higher education in the North American context.

Presbyterian Ideals and Princeton Over the past three centuries, Presbyterian conceptual values have been imprinted onto higher education in the United States. These Presbyterian ideals have helped to shape three defining features of American higher education—first, the importance

570   r. tyler derreth and david s. guthrie of liberty and second, the value of education and reason. The third characteristic, ­differentiation of institutions, emerges when freedom and reason influence decisions about Presbyterianism and higher education. Examining these three characteristics demonstrates the substantial influence of Presbyterianism on the development of higher education values and structures.

Presbyterian Liberty More than a hundred years before declaring independence, British colonists in America strove to secure religious freedom for their sectarian Christian beliefs. During the 140 years between the founding of Harvard (1636) and the American Revolution, eight of nine colonial colleges were created to educate ministers to promote Christianity’s place in the new colonies.4 The founders of the first colonial colleges established them to advance the religious education of their colonial communities.5 Harvard’s earliest mission announced its chief aim: “Every one shall consider the Mayne End of his life and studies, to know God and Jesus Christ, which is Eternall life.”6 Christian edification was a fundamental aspect of early American higher education. Implicit in the mission of colleges as places of religious education and ministerial preparation was a belief in the importance of a personal study of the Bible and of an intimate relationship with God, instead of having a scriptural understanding that is mediated solely through a religious institution or clergyman. Colleges strove to sustain religious advancement and freedom in a democratic fashion. The College of New Jersey, the first Presbyterian college in the New World (later renamed Princeton), was chartered in 1746 to provide both religious education and to ensure freedom in society. Its charter stated its objective: promoting “religion and the advancement of learning, by the instruction of youth in religious truth, as well as in the learned languages, and in the liberal arts and sciences.”7 Like other colonial colleges, the College of New Jersey was created to educate the public in Christian (and, in this case, particularly Presbyterian) ideals. One of these fundamental ideals was the personal liberty God afforded every individual. This belief, explained in the Westminster Confession of Faith, declared that “God hath endued the will of man with that natural liberty, that it is neither forced, nor . . . determined to good, or evil.”8 Therefore, liberty was to be supported through means such as an education grounded in religion so that people could “freely to will and to do that which is spiritually good.”9 Because of the strong Scottish influence, Presbyterians strongly valued the expressly American ideals of independence and enlightenment and strove to incorporate these principles into higher education.10 The College of New Jersey declared that it would “not [exclude] any person of any religious denomination whatsoever from free and equal liberty and advantage of education, or from any of the liberties, privileges, or immunities of the said college.”11 The college’s charter demonstrates that the college was founded on two Presbyterian ideals—reason and liberty. Liberty was essential, but it

presbyterians and higher education   571 had to be guided by faith and reason. Presbyterians sought to defend individual liberties while promoting rational order and Christian leadership to help guide individuals in a free society. The College of New Jersey was born in the midst of a surge of religious fervor and liberty—The First Great Awakening.12 George Whitefield, Jonathan Edwards, and other Awakening preachers traveled the country pleading with Americans to seek personal and emotionally expressive conversions.13 The Awakening placed great value on higher education,14 but it also split the country along theological lines.15 Two camps formed from the Great Awakening, the Old Lights and New Lights, and both had an impact on the trajectory of higher education.16 The College of New Jersey aligned itself with the training of New Light Presbyterian ministers. Twenty-five years after its founding, in an attempt to heal the Old Light–New Light schism, the college hired John Witherspoon, who brought strong leadership, astute theological understanding, and a staunch commitment to liberty, which lasted until his death in 1794.17 Witherspoon represented the larger eighteenth-century movement to educate students theologically, based on the Protestant ideals of personal liberation through faith and the ability to study biblical texts.18 The only minister to sign the Declaration of Independence, Witherspoon brought to the college a strong sense of independence and freedom of thought.19 Witherspoon’s conception of moral education helped advance Scottish realism in American society. This philosophy, along with the marriage of spirituality and reason at the college, would grow slowly for a century before leaping forward in the 1870s because of James McCosh’s commitment to reason and academic pursuits.20

Reason and Education The late nineteenth century saw increased attention to research in higher education across the nation. After decades of expansion, denominations vying for members, and troubling academic precedents in colleges, an academic revolution was taking shape.21 With a new concentration on research and graduate work, the paragons of higher education—Harvard, Yale, and the newly formed Johns Hopkins and Cornell—turned their attention to the pursuit of knowledge. Despite its strong Presbyterian ties, Princeton was no different. In 1868, a hundred years after Witherspoon had begun his presidency, James McCosh became president at Princeton. Like the venerated Witherspoon, McCosh was a Scottish minister who combined devout religious commitment with strenuous academic pursuits.22 As president, McCosh strove to solidify Princeton College’s place as a leader in the academic world. He worked to turn Princeton into a university and, to promote both a strong commitment to academic reasoning and a firm religious foundation, instituted a mandatory twice-daily chapel for students.23 McCosh eloquently defended the interplay of religion, freedom, and reason in a series of debates with Harvard president Charles Eliot. The two presidents argued in the 1880s

572   r. tyler derreth and david s. guthrie over the direction of higher education. Eliot favored an approach to education and choice of curriculum that maximized student freedom. McCosh presented a more traditional view of collegiate education.24 Eliot’s view that colleges should allow students to freely choose their course of study, McCosh protested, threatened the unity of knowledge and ultimately was a disservice to students. He argued for a general program of study that gave students freedom within the limits of faith and of reason, which would assure that students were prepared in the arts, sciences, ethics, and religion—something Eliot’s approach to did not guarantee.25 Their second debate concentrated on the role of religion in higher education. Eliot argued for a more laissez faire attitude that expressed devotion to a church catholic. McCosh defended a more distinctly denominational (Presbyterian) approach to higher education.26 McCosh described the great influence biblical faith and education had on each other. He strove to combine religious faith and academic investigation to make Princeton a nationally competitive school, and he ultimately succeeded. By 1900, Princeton embodied the Presbyterian ideal in higher education. It gave students some curricular choice, strongly promoted religious practice, and was firmly devoted to expanding the pursuit of knowledge in all fields of the arts and sciences. “If a more traditionalist Protestant intellectual alternative to the emerging definitions of American academia was to survive at any major school,” historian George Marsden argues, “Princeton was the foremost candidate.”27

A Resulting Differentiation A third Presbyterian ideal is differentiation, seen in both Presbyterian denominational splits and the expanding higher education landscape in the United States. Though we describe differentiation as a third pillar, such diversity is a product of the interaction between liberty and reason. Various examples of differentiation developed out of conflict during the first three centuries of American higher education. A prime example of differentiation as a Presbyterian ideal in higher education is Princeton Theological Seminary. In 1929, the Princeton Seminary was embroiled in a conflict that was part of a larger fundamentalist-modernist split. John Gresham Machen, a professor at Princeton, championed the fundamentalist faction, calling for repudiation of liberalism and a wholehearted commitment to the Westminster Confession.28 Espousing the modernist position, however, many Princeton trustees and faculty advocated a more open, pluralistic understanding of theology and belief. A goal of the modernists was to open the seminary and the denomination to broader readings of scripture and theology. As a result of the split, Machen and his followers left Princeton Seminary and founded Westminster Seminary in Philadelphia in 1929 as an orthodox alternative to modernist-leaning Princeton seminary. Such differentiation is an expected result of decision-making and action that embraces both reason and liberty—a combination that encourages differing viewpoints. This brief exploration shows how various leaders in Presbyterian higher education and

presbyterians and higher education   573 the church interpreted, by means of faith, reason, and a firm commitment to liberty, how to provide faith-based higher education. The combination of reason and liberty as Presbyterian influences in higher education—expressed through differentiation— proliferated in the twentieth century as leaders continued to reinterpret the relevance of faith for educational endeavors.

Differentiation in Contemporary Presbyterian Higher Education Contemporary Presbyterian higher education is differentiated in various ways, notably denominationally, theologically and epistemologically, and sociohistorically. Similarities do currently exist among Presbyterian postsecondary institutions—most are similar in size, offer chapel programs, and have identical governance structures and similar curricula.29 Of course, the contemporary postsecondary educational landscape in general is also substantially differentiated—by size of institutions and endowments, types of control, geography, curriculum, and other factors. The differentiation of Presbyterian higher education over almost three centuries mirrors the dynamic differentiation of the academy that has unfolded over time.30

Denominational and “Localist” Differentiation Presbyterians have separated into several denominations during the last almost three hundred years,31 and many of them founded colleges. Cumberland University, the College of the Ozarks, and Waynesburg University were founded by the Cumberland Presbyterian Church. Erskine College was founded by the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church. Covenant College was founded by the Presbyterian Church in America. The University of Dubuque was founded by German Presbyterians. And the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS) and the Presbyterian Church of the United States of America (PCUSA) founded numerous colleges.32 The interconnected yet independent polity of Presbyterianism meant that Presbyterian colleges were established, not by acts of a central administration, but as the initiatives of lower and local levels of the ecclesial system.33 The founding of colleges by several Presbyterian denominations and by lower judicatories is a major reason they are currently characterized more by variety than by similarity. This variation among Presbyterian institutions is also evident simply by observing the ways in which they articulate their organizational identities. Consider two examples. The first Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America (RPCNA) congregation in the United States emerged in 1738 in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, although its governance mechanism—the Synod—was not constituted until the early nineteenth

574   r. tyler derreth and david s. guthrie century. As did other Presbyterians, the RPCNA wanted an educated clergy and laity. The RPCNA founded Geneva College in 1848, in Northwood, Ohio (later relocated to its current location in Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania). Geneva describes itself as a “serious Christian college.” More specifically, Geneva “emphasizes the connection between the Christian faith and every academic, athletic and student activity.”34 Geneva’s brand of Presbyterianism is clearly visible in its policies and practices, including its governance, chapel distinctives, and the ecclesial membership requirements for the president and selected faculty. The University of Tulsa (TU) is one of fifty-six PC(USA) related institutions. TU, founded in 1882, began as the Presbyterian School for Indian Girls. After experiencing financial troubles, a relocation, and a merger with another small institution in Tulsa, named for oil tycoon Robert  M.  McFarlin, TU officially became chartered in 1920. It self-identifies as a “top-rated research university” and an “independent, nondenominational university” with a self-perpetuating board. TU’s mission statement identifies four core values: excellence in scholarship, dedication to free inquiry, integrity of character, and commitment to humanity. TU has a variety of campus ministries that, taken together, demonstrate its commitment to “interfaith dialog.” Among TU’s campus religious organizations is the Sharp Chapel Ministries, which includes such programs as a voluntary weekly chapel program, a weekly lunch gathering to read and discuss John Calvin’s Institutes of the Christian Religion, and the weekly Presbyterian Leaders and Scholars Luncheon for students who have received a Presbyterian Leadership Scholarship.

Theological and Epistemological Differentiation Denominational differentiation within Presbyterianism—historically and currently—is often related to differences in theological or epistemological perspective, including the ways in which Presbyterians understand and enact connections between faith and life. To the extent that Presbyterian denominations established and continue to maintain colleges and universities, the theological differences that contributed to their founding are also reflected in the ways in which their educational institutions envision and pursue their goals. Scholars have long attempted to codify the ways in which colleges and universities affiliated with denominations differ, including ones that are affiliated with the same denomination.35 These taxonomies often reflect theological differentiations that, in turn, have an impact on the ways in which church-related colleges and universities reify their educational plans. Manning Pattillo and Donald Mackenzie have written: “The most basic problem of church-sponsored higher education is . . . theological. . . . How Christianity . . . is defined influences how the religious dimension should be embodied in church-sponsored institutions and, indeed, whether such institutions are justified at all.”36

presbyterians and higher education   575 Denominational colleges define their missions in light of various criteria. Robert Parsonage identifies five of them; these colleges 1. are concerned with the development of the individual’s mental, physical, and spiritual resources. 2. provide[s] opportunities for exposure to Christian faith and teachings. 3. are committed to value-centered inquiry. 4. affirm the importance of the liberal arts in the total education of its students. 5. are committed to the upgrading or the transformation of society.37 By contrast, Merriman Cunninggim concludes that a church-related college or university must: 1. Provide for religious expressions throughout campus life; 2. “Base its operation on the values of its sponsoring denomination”; 3. “Be able to count on its” sponsoring denomination’s understanding of the educational mission; 4. “Receive tangible and intangible support from its sponsoring denomination”; 5. “Strive to inform and illumine” its sponsoring denomination and “welcome being informed and illumined in return”; and, 6. “Know why it wants to be so related” to the sponsoring denomination, while the sponsoring denomination must know why it wants to be associated with its colleges.38 These authors accentuate ways in which denominational institutions—including Presbyterian colleges and universities—can be defined and differentiated. More recently, Robert Benne’s typology of church-related colleges and universities helps to explain the variation among religiously affiliated institutions, as well as the theological variance among them.39 Benne’s “orthodox” and “critical-mass” types both make “the Christian vision and ethos . . . the organizing paradigm for the life of the college or university.” In contrast, Benne’s “intentionally pluralist” and “accidentally pluralist” types both privilege “some other conception of the educational enterprise,” such as rationality, postmodernity, or careerism.40 That is, intentionally pluralist and accidentally pluralist church-related institutions largely, if not fully, imitate nonsectarian institutions; Christianity and Presbyterianism may be identifiable in some way, but are most often vestigial at best. Benne highlights the notion that Presbyterian (and other church-related or religiously affiliated) colleges and universities are differentiated along a continuum that purports to account for the relative relevance and power of theological understandings and commitments for institutional life, in general, and the educational enterprise, in particular. Said another way, Benne’s work indicates that the form a Presbyterian college or university takes is related to the ways that its administrators and faculty interpret and enact the

576   r. tyler derreth and david s. guthrie Presbyterian tradition in the context of its view of knowledge and learning at the postsecondary level.

Sociohistorical Developments and Differentiation We have already alluded to “the southern [Presbyterian] church” and its colleges, as well as to the establishment of the University of Dubuque by German Presbyterians. Both illustrate ways in which Presbyterian higher education (and Presbyterianism), over time, emerged and diversified from an original monolithic identity. We briefly include two other examples below to highlight this final aspect of the differentiation of Presbyterian higher education further. The founding of Presbyterian colleges and universities mirrored the development of the United States as a national culture, especially from colonial times through the end of the nineteenth century. Some were founded in the original thirteen colonies, and others were founded as part of westward expansion. Some were founded before the Civil War, and others after it. Some were founded in the context of a “great awakening”; others as the intentional effort of an established denominational judicatory. A majority of Presbyterian institutions were established east of the Mississippi River and before 1900. In short, a complex set of sociocultural forces shaped Presbyterian colleges and universities; though they shared a historical and theological heritage, they may have been more different than alike at their founding—as they still are today. Presbyterianism is also flourishing far beyond the borders of the United States. Considering Presbyterians’ historical interests in education, it is not surprising that they have established colleges and universities around the world. The following is a  partial list of Presbyterian colleges and universities in countries outside the United States: Hannam University (Korea) Inter American University of Puerto Rico (Puerto Rico) Mackenzie Presbyterian University (Brazil) Evangelical Presbyterian University College (Ghana) The Presbyterian University of East Africa (Kenya) Dominion University College (Ghana) Calvin University (Korea) Keimyung University (Korea) Presbyterian College and Theological Seminary (Korea) Youngnam University and Theological Seminary (Korea) Daeyang University (Malawi) Nkhoma University (Malawi) University of Livingstonia (Malawi) Forman Christian College (Pakistan) United African University of Tanzania (Tanzania)

presbyterians and higher education   577

Ruminations about the Future of Presbyterians and Higher Education We cautiously and briefly offer three forecasts for the future. First, Presbyterian colleges and universities will not be immune to the realities that all postsecondary institutions face. In 1980, the National Congress on Church-Related Colleges and Universities published a four-volume series to “help church-related colleges and college-related churches face the future with vitality and purposefulness.”41 In it, a fictitious college president emeritus offered a possible future for church-related colleges, depicting “the potential changes from 1980 to 2000 . . . [as] overwhelming—sizable increases in tuition, rampant inflation, unimaginable increases in utility cost and underlying everything, declining enrollments.”42 These words were prescient, indeed. Today we can add underprepared students, technology infrastructure expenses, depreciation costs, governmental regulations, significant healthcare costs and, particularly for small institutions like the vast majority of Presbyterian-related colleges and universities, small endowments. Trends that impact postsecondary education in general also will affect Presbyterian institutions. Second, Presbyterians will retain an interest in higher education; it is simply part of the denominational DNA. Said another way, where Presbyterians are, an interest in and commitment to education will be also. Church-related institutions, in general, and Presbyterian-connected colleges and universities, in particular, will persist in the larger postsecondary landscape in a variety of ways. This will lead to the development of new strategic initiatives at Presbyterian colleges and universities, including online learning; establishing international institutions; tuition-exchange programs; and educational services, programs, and partnerships at the national, international, and institutional levels and at both the undergraduate and graduate levels. Finally, Presbyterian higher education in the future will continue to be marked by variety, or differentiation. One of the ways such differentiation will continue to be evidenced is in the ways educators interpret the relationship between faith and knowledge, reason, learning, and the academic enterprise. More than fifteen years ago, Alan Wolfe offered a continuum of sorts, “in which faith-based colleges and universities” would have to choose “between pressures toward orthodoxy and fulfilling their potential for pluralism.”43 Some Presbyterian institutions will strive, as Mark Noll put it, “to maintain a sharply defined religious identity while also [emphasis his] participating meaningfully in the intellectual and cultural life of the nation more generally.” Other Presbyterian institutions will willingly embrace the regnant epistemic values of the academy, while simultaneously recognizing their religious heritage in some form (through their chapel programs, religion departments, or guest-speaker series). Moreover, numerous and episodic variations within and among these two particular points on the continuum of “faith and learning” will continue to be present. This continuum will persist into the future and perhaps become even further differentiated. And, as has historically been the case regarding Presbyterians and higher education, thoughtful persons will continue to debate the relative virtue of a predisposition for differentiation.44

578   r. tyler derreth and david s. guthrie

Notes 1. Donald G. Tewksbury, The Founding of American Colleges and Universities Before the Civil War (New York: Teachers College Press, 1932), 91–92. 2. Richard Hofstadter, Academic Freedom in the Age of the College (New York: Columbia University Press, 1955), 244. 3. Roger L. Geiger, The History of American Higher Education: Learning and Culture from the Founding to World War II (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press); Frederick Rudolph, The American College and University: A History (Athens: Georgia University Press, 1990); Lawrence Veysey, The Emergence of the American University (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1965); George  M.  Marsden, The Soul of the American University: From Protestant Establishment to Established Nonbelief (New York: Oxford University Press, 1994); John S. Brubacher and Willis Rudy, Higher Education in Transition: A History of American Colleges and Universities (New York: Transaction, 1997); and Arthur M. Cohen and Carrie B. Kisker, The Shaping of American Higher Education: Emergence and Growth of the Contemporary System (San Francisco: Jossey-Bass, 2013). 4. Brubacher and Rudy, Higher Education in Transition, 7–8. 5. Geiger, History of American Higher Education, 1–32. 6. Geiger, 8. 7. College of New Jersey Board of Trustees, The Charter and By-laws of the Trustees of the College of New Jersey (Philadelphia: American Printing House, 1892), 34–35. 8. The Westminster Confession of Faith, 42, http://www.pcaac.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/11/ WCFScriptureProofs.pdf. 9. The Westminster Confession of Faith, 44. 10. James T. Burtchaell, The Dying of the Light: The Disengagement of Colleges and Universities from Their Christian Churches (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 1998), 123–256. 11. College of New Jersey Board of Trustees, Charter, 10. 12. Thomas J. Wertenbaker, Princeton, 1746–1896 (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2014). 13. Richard L. Bushman, The Great Awakening: Documents on the Revival of Religion, 1740–1745 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2014), 4–5. 14. Geiger, History of American Higher Education. 15. James W. Schmotter, “The Irony of Clerical Professionalism: New England’s Congregational Ministers and the Great Awakening,” American Quarterly 31 (1979): 148–168. 16. Edwin  S.  Gaustad, “The Theological Effects of the Great Awakening in New England, Mississippi Valley Historical Review 40 (1954): 681–706. 17. Bradley  J.  Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture: A History (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013), 36–39. 18. Longfield, Presbyterians and American Culture, 37–38. 19. Mark  A.  Noll, Princeton and the Republic, 1768–1822: The Search for a Christian Enlightenment in the Era of Samuel Stanhope Smith (Vancouver, bc: Regent College Publishing, 1989). 20. Gary Scott Smith, The Seeds of Secularization: Calvinism, Culture and Pluralism in America, 1870–1915 (Grand Rapids, MI: Christian University Press, 1985), 97–100; and Charles  B.  Bow, “Reforming Witherspoon’s Legacy at Princeton: John Witherspoon, Samuel Stanhope Smith, and James McCosh on Didactic Enlightenment, 1768–1888,” History of European Ideas 39 (2013): 650–669.

presbyterians and higher education   579 21. For example, students succeeded in shortening some programs to two years or less. See Geiger, History of American Higher Education, 316–363. 22. Noll, Princeton and the Republic, 290. 23. P. C. Kemeny, Princeton in the Nation’s Service: Religious Ideals and Educational Practice, 1898–1928 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), 54–59. 24. Geiger, History of American Higher Education, 335–337. 25. Marsden, Soul of the American University, 181–195. 26. Marsden, 196–218. 27. Marsden, 196. 28. John W. Hart, “Princeton Theological Seminary: The Reorganization of 1929,” Journal of Presbyterian History 58 (1980): 124–140. 29. Christopher Jencks and David Riesman, “Protestant Denominations and Their Colleges,” in The Academic Revolution, 312–333 (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1968), is provocative reading in this regard. 30. Although we chose to focus on Presbyterians and undergraduate higher education, Presbyterianism continues to value the importance of seminary education for its mission. Differentiation is present here, too. The PC(USA) PCA, RPCNA, ARPC, and OPC all operate seminaries. In addition, Presbyterians have established many seminaries in other parts of the world. 31. Other chapters in this volume provide ample testimony to a schismatic character of Presbyterianism, including prior to its presence in America. 32. These two denominations merged in 1983; this denomination is called the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), or “PC(USA).” 33. C. Harve Geiger, The Program of Higher Education of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America: An Historical Analysis of Its Growth in the United States (Cedar Rapids, IA: Laurance Press, 1940), 82. 34. “History and Heritage,” Geneva College website, accessed on March 20, 2017, http://www. geneva.edu/about-geneva/identity/history-heritage. 35. See Leslie  K.  Patton, The Purpose of Church-Related Colleges (New York: Teachers College Press, 1940); Manning  M.  Pattillo and Donald  M.  Mackenzie, ChurchSponsored Higher Education in the United States (Washington, DC: American Council on Education, 1966); C. Robert Pace, Education and Evangelism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1972); Richard E. Anderson, Strategic Policy Changes at Private Colleges (New York: Teachers College Press, 1977); Robert  R.  Parsonage, ed., Church-Related Higher Education (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 1978); Merriman Cunninggim, “Varieties of Church-Relatedness in Higher Education,” in Church-Related Higher Education, ed. Robert R. Parsonage (Valley Forge, PA: Judson Press, 1978); Robert Benne, Quality With Soul: How Six Premier Colleges and Universities Keep Faith with Their Religious Traditions (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans, 2001); and Perry Glanzer and Todd Ream, Christianity and Moral Identity in Higher Education (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2014). 36. Pattillo and Mackenzie, Church-Sponsored Higher Education, vii, 154. 37. Parsonage, Church-Related Higher Education, 283. 38. Cunninggim, “Varieties of Church Relatedness,” 85. 39. Benne, Quality with Soul, 51. 40. See Douglas Sloan, Faith and Knowledge: Mainline Protestantism and American Higher Education (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994), 72.

580   r. tyler derreth and david s. guthrie 41. National Congress on Church-Related Colleges and Universities, Church and College: A Vital Partnership, vol. 3: Accountability: Keeping Faith with One Another (Sherman, TX: Center for Program and Institutional Renewal at Austin College, 1980), 6. 42. Ivan E. Frick, “Conversations about College Management in the Year 2000,” in Church and College, Accountability, 3:164. 43. Alan Wolfe, “The Potential for Pluralism: Religious Responses to the Triumph of Theory and Method in American Academic Culture,” in Religion, Scholarship, and Higher Education, ed. Andrea Sterk (Notre Dame, IN: University of Notre Dame Press, 2002), 31. 44. See Nicholas Wolterstorff, epilogue to Sterk, Religion, Scholarship, and Higher Education, 250. See also Douglas Jacobsen and Rhonda H. Jacobsen, “The Ideals and Diversity of ChurchRelated Higher Education,” in The American University in a Postsecular Age, ed. Douglas Jacobsen and Rhonda H. Jacobsen (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), 63–80.

Bibliography Geiger, C. Harve. The Program of Higher Education of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America: An Historical Analysis of Its Growth in the United States. Cedar Rapids, IA: Laurance Press, 1940. Geiger, Roger L. The History of American Higher Education: Learning and Culture from the Founding to World War II. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2016. Hart, John  W. “Princeton Theological Seminary: The Reorganization of 1929.” Journal of Presbyterian History 58 (1980): 124–140. Hofstadter, Richard. Academic Freedom in the Age of the College. New York: Columbia University Press, 1955. Jacobsen, Douglas, and Rhonda  H.  Jacobsen, “The Ideals and Diversity of Church-Related Higher Education.” In The American University in a Postsecular Age, edited by Douglas Jacobsen and Rhonda H. Jacobsen, 63–80. New York: Oxford University Press, 2008. Kemeny, P.  C. Princeton in the Nation’s Service: Religious Ideals and Educational Practice, 1898–1928. New York: Oxford University Press, 1998. Longfield, Bradley  J. Presbyterians and American Culture: A History. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2013. Marsden, George M. The Soul of the American University: From Protestant Establishment to Established Nonbelief. New York: Oxford University Press, 1994. National Congress on Church-Related Colleges and Universities. Church and College: A Vital Partnership. Vol. 3: Accountability: Keeping Faith with One Another. Sherman, TX: Center for Program and Institutional Renewal at Austin College, 1980. Noll, Mark A. Princeton and the Republic, 1768–1822: The Search for a Christian Enlightenment in the Era of Samuel Stanhope Smith. Vancouver, bc: Regent College Publishing, 1989. Sloan, Douglas. Faith and Knowledge: Mainline Protestantism and American Higher Education. Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 1994. Smith, Gary Scott. The Seeds of Secularization: Calvinism, Culture and Pluralism in America, 1870–1915. Grand Rapids, MI: Christian University Press, 1985. Tewksbury, Donald  G. The Founding of American Colleges and Universities before the Civil War. New York: Teachers College Press, 1932. Wertenbaker, Thomas J. Princeton, 1746–1896. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2014.

Index

A

Abolitionism  58–59, 61, 255, 517, 555. See also American Anti-Slavery Society role of in New School-Old School division  221, 280, 375, 531, 553 Aboriginal religion  447 abortion  91, 272, 320, 559 Abrogating Acts 1837  60 Accra Confession  389 Act Recissory of 1661  45 Act of Toleration (1689)  541 Act of Uniformity 1662  122 Act of Union (1707)  276 actualist ontology  377 Adopting Act of 1729  55–56, 90, 98, 217–19, 224, 404, 442 Advaita philosophy  449, 453 Advisory Council on Church and Society (UPCUSA) 556 African Americans churches of  489 and Presbyterians  52, 61, 75, 77, 256, 517 spirituals of  484 voting of  261 worship of  481–82 African Presbyterians anointing services of for healing  151 and the challenge of traditional practices 151–52 commitment to missions of  311 and the connection between the physical and spiritual worlds  151 deliverance services of  150 and education  153 and homosexuality  152 influences on  311 and pornography  152 and serving as tribal chiefs  152

values of  150 widowhood rites of  151 worship of  486 African Traditional Religions (ATR)  452–53 and secret societies  453 and ancestral shrines  453 and the inculturation of Christianity  453 Afrikaners 544 AIDS 142 Aiken, Charles Augustus  533 Aikenhead, Thomas  543 Albert of Brandenburg  11 Alexander, Archibald  59, 61 Alexander, James  259, 482 Allen, Horace N.  169, 284 Alliance of Latin American and Reformed Churches (AIPRAL)  178, 180 Alliance of the Reformed Churches throughout the World Holding the Presbyterian System. See World Alliance of Reformed Churches alloiosis 334 Alves, Rubem  326, 330n27 Ambrose 13 American Academy of Religion  1 American Anti-Slavery Society  59, 255, 517 American Association of University Professors 104 American Bible Society  59, 255, 279 American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM)  59, 159, 161, 189, 197, 198, 200, 205, 255 American Civil Liberties Union  103 American Colonization Society  59, 159 American Council on Organic Union  102 American Home Missionary Society  59, 63, 255, 279 American Peace Society  255

582   index American Presbyterian Mission  147, 162 American Revolution and the Covenanters  62 opposition of Canadian Presbyterians to  62 support of American Presbyterians for  57, 530, 552 American Sunday School Union  255 American Temperance Society  255 American Tract Society  59 Americanization  52, 57, 63, 67 Amicy, Charles  184 Anabaptists  12, 18, 338, 349, 373, 401, 493 ancestor worship  152, 444 Anderson, A. S. M.  164 Anderson, Benedict  195 Andover Theological Seminary  59 Andrews, Jedidiah  53 Anglican Prayer Book. See Book of Common Prayer Anglicans  21, 47, 122 in America  254 in Iran  203 in Scotland  120 in Wales  126 Anglo-Boer War  544 Angus Affair  222 Angus, Samuel  222 Annan, Kofi  204 Anne, queen of England  120 Anselm 349 Anthony, Susan B.  517 anthropocentrism 305 Anti-Burghers 125 anticlericalism  177, 404 anticommunism  81, 556 antinomianism 302 anti-Semitism  85, 451, 559 Antiochene church  40 anti-Trinitarian  123, 296–97, 334, 336 anxious bench  352, 405, 482, 515 apartheid  259, 311, 394, 419, 537n10, 544 Apostles’ Creed  19, 231, 326, 416, 420, 478 Appalachia 66 Aquinas, Thomas  13, 295, 399–400, 469 Arabs  195, 206, 452 Argentina 189–90 Arianism  123, 124, 137, 297, 304 Armajani, Yahya  203–4

Armenian Apostolic Church  200 Armenians  198, 199, 200, 204–5, 207 “Arminian” Remonstrants  34 Arminianism  123, 126, 231, 296, 306, 401, 403 position of on free will  323–24 Arminius, Jacob  402 Articles Declaratory  132 Aruba 185 assensus 354 Associate Presbyterian Church of North America 198 Associate Presbytery of Scotland  124–25, 126 Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARPC) debate of over biblical inerrancy  88, 89 description of  73, 76 founding of  62 missionary activity of in Mexico  178 opposition of to racial integration  87 and Psalm-singing  81 rejection of merger with the PCUS and UPCNA by  81 work of with Iranian immigrants  207 worship in  485 Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church of Mexico 178–79 Associated Presbyterian Churches  133 Assyrians 199–207 Ataturk, Mustafa Kemal  205, 207 Atkins, Grace  183 Auburn Affirmation of 1924  77, 82, 105–6, 111–12, 341, 355, 376 Augsburg Confession  18 Augustine books of  13 on the church  391 on election  399, 409n4 on God’s foreknowledge  400 on human freedom  323, 324, 327 influence of  3, 294 on the sacraments  242 on sin and grace  244, 349, 399 on preaching  510 Auld Lichts. See Old Lights Australia  4, 99, 112, 222, 307, 311, 421, 447, 531, 544, 545 autotheos 295

index   583

B

Baeta, C. G.  548 Baha’ism 142 Baird, Charles  483, 498 Baillie, John  136, 309 Baillie, Robert  42, 43 Bangladesh  161, 171 baptism administration of  244–45 of adults  247 covenantal character of  244 of infants  244, 247 by immersion  244, 431, as marking people as belonging to Christ 244 practice of  485 Presbyterian understanding of  241–45 and rebaptism  247–48 Reformed understanding of  20 relationship of to the Lord’s Supper  248 as a rite of Christian initiation  244 session approval for  244 use or water in  244 the Westminster Confession on  234 Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry  249, 250n4 Baptist Missionary Society  144 Baptists in America  63, 97, 255, 267, 480, 481, 482, 557, 569 in England  121, 122 Barclay, Thomas  167 Barmen Declaration (1934)  84, 309, 326, 388, 391, 418, 468 Barnes, Albert  63, 220, 279, 280 Barrier Act  47 Barrios, Justo Rufino  179 Barrows, John Henry  445 Barth, Karl and American theologians  415 on apologetics  467 on Christians as a creative minority  422 and the end of Christendom  414 Christology of  339, 340, 342, 414, 417, 449 on church confessions  416 and Church Dogmatics  414, 416, 421 critique of Protestant orthodoxy  419 disillusionment of with theological liberalism 414

on election  449 impact of on missiology  422 influence of  79, 80, 84, 313, 413, 468 on justice  420 and the Kantian revolution in philosophy 466–67 as the key proponent of neo-orthodoxy  79, 414, 518 main themes of  309 opposition of to natural revelation  449, 467 on predestination  407–8 and reconciliation  417, 420 on the relationship of Christianity and other religions  449–50 on resisting tyranny  388 on sin  414, 417 and support for socialist democratic political program  419 theology of  466–67 view of Scripture of  377, 417 Basel Mission  144–45, 147, 149, 153n21, 157 Basel Mission Church  145 Basel Missionary College  145 Baskerville, Howard  202 Bass Rock  119 Bateson, William  103 Battle of Boyne  529 Bavinck, Herman  354, 377 Baxter, Richard  121–22, 510–11 Beaton, David  428 Becker, Adam  202 Bediako, Kwame  343 Belgic Confession (1561)  230, 296, 298, 365, 372, 540 Belhar Confession  326, 390, 394, 419–20, 421 Belize  179, 181 Bell, L. Nelson  83, 85 Beloved Community  393 Beltran, Manuel  181 Benedictine Monasticism  10 Benne, Robert  575 Bennett, Dennis  432 Bennett, John  258 Bennett, Katherine  270 Benson, Louis  500, 504 Berkeley, George  463 Berkhof, Hendrikus  426 Berkouwer, G. C.  334, 377

584   index Bethel College  82 Beza, Theodore  31, 368, 401 Bible 365–78 African views of  149–50 authority of  5, 74, 271, 371, 434, 533, 535 clarity of  372–74 debates over the nature and authority of 376–77 inerrancy of  67, 74, 75, 76, 86, 88, 98, 100, 356, 371, 376, 377–78, 415 infallibility of  78, 377 inspiration of  67, 102, 353, 371, 377 interpretation of  15–16 and higher criticism  67, 74, 99, 100, 132, 353, 376, 377, 403, 414, 415, 532 law and gospel as complementary aspects of 366–68 as living and active  367 perspicuity of  372 and the regulative principle  372 relationship of preaching to  367–69 reliability of  74 as the sacramental word  366 as self-interpreting  373–74 source of  370 as special revelation  370 as the standard for the church’s teaching 294 sufficiency of  372–74, 462 Westminster Confession on  232 as the Word of God  371 and world religions  441 Bible Presbyterian Church  78, 187, 285, 518 Bible Union of China  101, 112n6 Bihaii, Lal  185 Bishops War  118 Black Oath  120 Blair, Robert  350 Blake, Eugene Carson  83, 86, 87, 258, 259, 519 Bliss, Kathleen  271 Blyden, Edward W.  452 Blythe, Ernest  134 Board of Foreign Missions (PCUSA)  66, 77, 179, 446 Board of National Missions (PCUSA)  66 Board of Social Service and Evangelism (PCC) 558

Board of World Missions (PCUS)  86 Boesak, Allen  259 Boff, Leonardo  384 Boice, James Montgomery  378 Bolivia  178, 191 Bonaire 185 Bonkovsky, Fred  534 Boo, Tan See  164 Book of Common Order (Church of Scotland)  496, 497, 499 Book of Common Order (PCC)  84, 500 Book of Common Prayer (Church of England)  81, 118, 122, 478, 497, 541, 542 Book of Common Worship (PCUS)  500–1 Book of Common Worship (PCUSA)  76, 81, 89, 263, 483, 484–85, 498–501, 503–4 inclusion of Spanish and Korean in  485 revision of in 2018  485, 503 Book of Confessions (PCUSA/PC[USA])  84, 85, 91, 231, 236, 390, 408, 416 Book of Order (PCUSA/PC[USA])  388, 432, 556 Border Service Department  166 Bosch, David  422, 443 Boston, Thomas  124 Bowles, Oliver  36, 37 Bradford, Brick  432 Brainerd, David  443 Brazil  185–86, 192, 281–83, 407, 431, 486, 531 Breckinridge, Robert J.  59, 220 Bremen Mission  145, 149, 153 Brewster, Patrick  130 “A Brief Statement of Faith” (1991) (PC[USA])  236, 326, 361, 388, 389, 391, 420, 421 “A Brief Statement of the Reformed Faith”  79 Briggs, Charles heresy trial of  66–67, 75, 341, 355, 376 view of salvation  406 view of Scripture of  100, 353, 376, 406 Bright, Bill  262 Bright, John  81 Brink, Ray  183 Brooks, Phillips  256 Brown v. the Board of Education 555 Brown, Arthur Judson  257 Brown, James  431–32

index   585 Brown, Robert McAfee  263 Brown, William  189 Brown, William Adams  66, 341 Browne, Archibald  192 Bruce, A. B.  305 Bruce, Robert  350, 428 Brueggemann, Walter  393 Brunner, Emil  414, 518 Bryan, William Jennings  101, 103, 104, 554–55 Bryce, James  160 Bryden, Walter  79, 84, 357–58 Bucer, Martin  24, 477, 478, 493, 494 Buck, Pearl  109, 357, 447 Buddha 453 Buddhism  142, 263, 445, 448 Buell, Signoria  162 Buell, William  162 Bullinger, Heinrich  31, 295, 301, 367, 368, 508 Bultmann, Rudolf  414 Burns, William  165 Burns, William Chalmers  130 Butler, Jon  53 Buttrick, George A.  518–19

C

Cabrera, Angel Archilla  180 Caird, Edward  136 Caird, John  136 Calabar 128 Calamy, Edmund  123 Caldwell, Milton E.  183 Calvert, Samuel McCrea  259 Calvin, John. See also Institutes of the Christian Religion on the atonement  336 on baptism  493, 494 on the Bible  367 biblical commentaries of  15 on Christian citizenship  387–88 on Christian worship and work  254 on Christology  333, 334–36, 250n3 on confessions  229 doctrine of the church of  19, 241, 386, 390–91, 392 on economics  389 on eco-justice  389, 420 education of  8, 15

on faith  354 and Form of Prayers of as a model Presbyterian liturgy  493, 494 on God’s providence  232 on government  540 on grace  325 on the heathen  442 on the Holy Spirit  349, 427, 440 on humanity  18, 233, 318 impact of on Presbyterianism  551 influence of on politics  4 influence of on Presbyterianism  2, 31 influence of the Renaissance on  15 on the invisible church  254 on law in the Bible  536n2 as the leader of Geneva  31 on the Lord’s Supper  3, 493 and liturgy  493 on miracles  428 on the moral law  386 on natural theology  458–59, 460 opposition of to division in the church  384 on polity  30, 219, 224 on preaching  508 on predestination and election  300, 400–1 on proofs for God’s existence  460 reforms of in Geneva  542 on sanctification  386 on Scripture  385–86 on sin  459 on the sovereignty of God  387 theology of  17, 295, 327, 459 on total depravity  322 understanding of piety of  17 on the value of scientific study  460–61 view of salvation of  18, 302–3 view of the sacraments of  18, 21, 385 on worship  477, 488, 493, 494, 507–8 Calvinism and democracy  551 and economics  527 and education  543, 551 and science  551 and the state  551–52 and the transformation of culture  551 Calvinistic Methodists  126

586   index Cameron, Richard  119–20 Cameronians 120 Cameroon  147, 430 Campbell, Alexander  260 Campbell, John McLeod  131, 306, 352, 418 Canada  545, 548. See also Canadian Presbyterians; Canadian Presbyterian Church; United Church of Canada Canadian Presbyterians  52, 62–63, 159, 167 Cane Ridge revival  513–14, 515 See also Second Great Awakening Canons of Dordt (Dort)  298, 306, 402, 520 capital punishment  317, 320 Carey, William  161 Caribbean Islands  35, 181–85 Carlyle, Thomas  131 Carmelites 12 Carstares, William  120 Cartesianism  296, 303 Castro, Fidel  182 Catholic Apostolic Church  131 Catholic Emancipation Act  276 Catholic Maronites  198, 200 Catholic Relief Services  259 “Causes of Unrest among Women of the Church”  77, 270 celibacy 319 Central America  4, 179–181 Central American Mission  180, 181 Central Committee (PCUSA)  267 cessationism  352, 355, 360, 361, 427, 429–31, 433 Chai-Choon, Kim  285, 286 Chalcedonian Christology  333, 334, 336, 339, 342, 343 Chalcedonian Creed  254, 275, 333 Chalmers, Thomas and church-state relations  277, 278, 543 and the founding of the Evangelical Alliance 130 and founding of Free Church of Scotland 543 ministry of in Glasgow  128 preaching of  513 as a social reformer  543, 557 vision of the godly commonwealth of  128 Chapman, J. Wilbur  66

charismata See charismatic gifts charismatic gifts  427, 428, 429, 432–33 charismatic movements  426, 432–33 charismatic renewal  431–33 Charles I  33, 37, 118, 119, 121, 541–42 Charles II  44, 45, 46, 119, 122, 543 Chartism 130 Chaves, Mark  272 Chavez, Hugo  189 Cheribin, Obelto  184 Chewa  153, 154 Chiang Kai-skek  167 Chicago Statement on Biblical Inerrancy  378 Chile  178, 188 China  165–67, 311, 561 persecution of Christians in  166 Scottish Presbyterian missions in  128 social reform in  561 China Christian Council  167, 170 China Inland Mission  159, 162 Chosen Theological Seminary  285–86 Christendom  414, 539, 542, 544–45, 549 Christian Children’s Fund  261 Christian Council of the Gold Coast  153 Christian Endeavor societies  256 Christian Faith and Life curriculum  80, 91 Christian Missionary and Alliance Church 170 Christian Missions and Social Progress 559 Christian movement  260. See also Disciples of Christ Christian Reformed Church in North America  84, 87, 180, 183, 184 Christian Social Democratic Party (Korea) 562 “Christian Solution to the Social Problem, The” (PCUSA)  553–54 Christianity and Liberalism  102–3, 106, 341, 377 Christianity Today 85 Christocentrism  339, 342 Christology 333–44. See also Jesus contextualization and  343 immanent, ethical  343–44 liberation theology and  343 in the nineteenth century  338–41 in the Reformation period  334–36

index   587 Reformed orthodoxy and  336–38 in the twentieth century  341–43 Christus Victor  150 Chrysostom, John  13 Chuhra movement  160 Chulalongkorn, king of Siam  162 Chung, Eun Shil  191 The Church and Slavery 63–64 The Church and the War 83 church government. See polity church membership  41, 62, 80, 90, 306, 513 Church Missionary Society  144, 145 Church of Bangladesh  161, 170 Church of Central Africa (CCAP)  146–47 Church of Christ in China  166 Church of Christ in Siam  162 Church of Christ in Thailand  163 Church of England  9, 21, 23, 36, 37, 38, 44, 63, 133, 230, 254, 402, 478, 529, 532, 541, 545. See also Anglicans Church of Ireland  38, 120 Church of North India  161, 453 Church of Scotland. See also Disruption of the Church of Scotland adoption of The Second Book of Discipline by 118 attendance patterns of  129, 136 in Canada  63 changes in after the Restoration  120 controversy over cessationism in  352 evangelicalism in  125 Evangelicals and Moderates in  277–78 foreign missions of  127, 135, 147–48, 160, 161, 190 and the Holy Spirit  361 and homosexuality  135 influence on the government of  134–35 legal recognition and state support of 276 missions to the Jews of  127, 450 as a model for established churches  129 as a model for the PCUSA  57 as a model for the PCC  65 and the ordination of women  266 and parochial relief  129 and patronage  120 and social reform  557–58

and theological liberalism  136, 418 and the Westminster Confession  54–55, 119 Church of South India  161, 170, 258, 453, 499 Church of the East  199–201 church order of Dordrecht  35 Church Patronage Act of 1874  278 Church Women United  260 Church World Service  259 Church-related colleges  574–75, 577 church-state relations  539–49 and Presbyterian attitudes toward churchstate separation  547 changing Presbyterian attitudes toward  539 close cooperation between advocated by Reformed and Catholics  540 close cooperation between promoted by Reformed confessions  540 and established Presbyterian churches  541 and full religious freedom  545 and Presbyterian establishment in Scotland  62, 541, 543 proprietary attitudes toward  541, 545, 547–48 and shared establishment  544–45 in Puerto Rico  182 role of in creating the PCUS  547 and shift from establishmentarianism to voluntarism  545, 548 Churches of Christ  133 Churches (Scotland) Act (1905)  132 Churches Uniting in Christ  381 Cicero 510 circumcision  244, 385 Cistercians 10 civil rights  86, 87, 196, 259, 310, 393, 408, 519 Civil War  60, 64, 281, 483, 547 Claim of Right 1842  128, 133, 278 Clarendon Code  44, 122 Clarke, J. Cavitt  262 Clay, Henry  547 Cluny 10 Cochrane, Arthur C.  79, 83 Coffin, Henry Sloane Christology of  415 defiance of General Assembly directives by 111 and the Holy Spirit  357

588   index Coffin, Henry Sloane (Continued) and liberty of conscience  355–56 and ordination standards  107 as president of Union Theological Seminary in New York City  111 and Ritschlian theology  341 and social reform  554–55 Cold War  81, 310 Coleridge, Samuel Taylor  131, 425 Collazo, Evaristo  182 College of New Jersey. See Princeton University Colman, Benjamin  53 Colombia 186–87 colonialism  9, 169, 308, 532 Columbia Theological Seminary  78, 533–34 Commission on Ecumenical Missions and Relations 83–84 Commission on Religion and Race (UPCUSA) 556 Committee on Evangelism (PCUSA)  66 Committee on Human Sexuality (PC[USA]) 556 Committee on Moral and Social Welfare (PCUS)  357, 555 common grace  307 common sense  317, 353, 406, 411n35 common-sense realism  58, 124, 352, 354, 405, 462–65, 469, 571 communicatio idiomatum  335, 336 Communion. See Lord’s Supper comparative theology  445 concursus  404, n33 411 Confession of 1967 on Christology  417 on evangelism  450 on the Holy Spirit  359, 360 and the meaning of human existence  418 on ministry to the world  417 neo-orthodox tenor of  84 opposition to  85, 408 on reconciliation  236, 326, 359, 408, 417 reflection of Barthian themes by  468 on respecting other religions  449 on sin  417 on theology  416 Confession of Faith (CPC) (1984)  231

Confession of Faith and Government of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church (1883) 231 Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Reformed Church in Cuba (1977)  237, n27 330 confessional orthodoxy  85, 109, 135, 279, 303 See also Reformed orthodoxy and Westminster orthodoxy confessionalism  5, 72, 132, 137, 404 Confucianism  444, 445, 561 Congo  142, 520, 560 Congo Reform Association  560 Congregationalist Synod of Cambridge  298 Congregationalists. See also Plan of Union in America  58, 59, 255, 406, 552, 553, 557 in Cuba  182 as delegates to the Westminster Assembly 37–40 in England  44, 47, 122, 541 in India  161 in Mexico  178 in the Middle East  197 polity of  34 in Scotland  43 union of with Presbyterians in the United States  197, 217, 219–20, 224, 352 Conservative Presbyterian Church (Brazil) 186 Consistory  21, 24, 25, 31–32, 35 Constitution (U.S.)  542–43 Constitutional Convention  57 The Constitutional History of the Presbyterian Church in the U.S.A. 221 Consultation on Church Union  86, 258 consummation  237, 366, 397 continental Reformed  458, 466 Continuing Church Movement (PCUS)  261 contraception  91, 319 Conventicle Act 1664  122 Converse, John  553 Cook, John Angus Bethune  164 Cooke, Henry  123 Coptic Community Council  206 Coptic Orthodox Church  199 Copts  198, 199, 204, 205, 207 coram deo 391

index   589 Cornell University  571 Cornish, Samuel  61, 517 cosmology  376, 397 Costa Rica  180 Costa Rican Evangelical Presbyterian Church 180 Council for Mission of the Presbyterian Churches 169 Council for World Mission  159 Council of Chalcedon  333 Council of Constance  10 Council of Constantinople  300 Council of Trent  12, 372, 374, 496 Council on Church and Race (PCUSA)  87 Court of Session  277 Covenant Fellowship of Presbyterians  86 Covenant Life curriculum  82, 85, 91 covenant of grace  233–34, 244, 301, 338, 416, 442 covenant of nature (or works)  233, 301, 338, 416 covenant of redemption  301 covenant theology  296, 301–2, 305, 338, 479 Covenanters in America  61–62, 542–44 in Scotland  33, 45, 46, 119, 542 covenants of God with humanity  232–33 Craighead, Alexander  443 Cranmer, Thomas  384, 478 Craven, Elijah  267 Credo, ergo Confiteor 229 Crieff Fraternal  136 Crisp, Oliver  321 Cromwell, Oliver  42, 43, 119, 121, 542 Cross, Robert  55 CRU (formerly Campus Crusade for Christ) 262 Crusades  442, 451 Cuba  178, 182, 237, 329n15, 330n27 Cultural Revolution (China)  166 Cumberland Presbyterian Church (CPC) colleges founded by  573 and cooperation with other denominations  83, 84, 89 and deaconesses  268 on election  404 foreign missions of  166, 168, 170, 187 founding of  73, 231, 260, 404, 514

growth of  83 and integration of schools  83 merger of with the PCUSA  76, 99, 260, 406 objections of to the Westminster Confession  75, 231, 404, 514 and the ordination of women  267, 517 theological conservatism of  82, 112 understanding of human freedom of  323 Cunninggim, Merriman  575 Cunningham, J. R.  259 Curacao 185 Cuthbertson, John  61 Cuyler, Theodore  267 Cyprian 13 Cyril IV  199

D

Dabney, Robert Lewis  64, 66, 67, 340, 407 Daehan Presbytery  169 Danquah, J. B.  548 Darley, Frederic  189 Darley, Mary  189 Darwin, Charles  74, 444, 465 Darwinism  101, 104, 376, 405, 465, 532 Davey, Ernest  135 Davidson, Robert  514–15 Davies, Howell  126 Davies, Samuel  443 Davis, Angela  87, 223 Davis, Samuel  53, 54 Davison, John  350 De Pastore Evangelico 36 deaconesses 268 deacons in Brazil  431 deposing of  35 as an office in Presbyterian churches  3, 23, 26 role of  3, 24, 26, 35 selection of  26, 32, 35 and social reform  128, 555 subscription of to the Westminster Confession  407, 416 terms of service of  35 women as  269, 272 Death of God theologies  310

590   index Decalogue  330n26, 417, 540 Declaration of Breda  122 “The Declaration of Faith Concerning Church and Nation” (PCC)  85 Declaratory Acts (1879 and 1892)  131, 137 Defils, Octavius  184 Deism  297, 304, 403 Delitzsch, Franz  376 Democratic Unionist Party  134 democratization  51, 280, 431 demon possession  360 Denney, James  132 Dennis, James Shepard  444, 445, 559 Department of Church and Labor (PCUSA)  257, 553 Department of Moral and Social Reform (PCC) 558 Department of Social Education and Action (PCUSA) 555 determinism  18, 302, 308, 323, 327–28 Dewey, George  165 dialectical theology  79, 309, 342, 414. See also neo-orthodoxy Dickens-Lewis, Blanche  269 Dickinson, Jonathan  55–56, 218 Diet of Worms  12 digital age  249 “Direction of Endeavour for Chinese Christianity in the Construction of a New China”  166 Directory for Church Government  41, 42 Directory for Family Worship  478 Directory for Ordination  40 Directory for the Worship of God (PCUSA)  480 Directory for Worship (UPCUSA)  84, 89, 483 Directory for Worship and Work (PCUS)  84 Disciples of Christ  182, 260, 481, 514 Disjunctive school of Antioch  333, 342 Disowning Act (1837)  60 Disruption of the Church of Scotland (1843) causes of  276, 307, 546 and church-state relations  128, 276, 545 class issues involved in  276, 278 connection of with social antagonisms  278 consequences of  129 and demise of Scotland’s religious establishment 278

and ecclesiastical authority  128 and lay patronage  276, 546 significance of  128 divine chosenness  538, 544 divorce  91, 235, 419, 559 Dominican Evangelical Church  183 Dominican Republic  183–84 Dominicans 10 Donnan, Geoffrey  192 Dorrien, Gary  414 Douglass, Frederick  517 Douglass, Jane Dempsey  259 Dowey, Edward Jr.  359–60, 390, 468 Duff, Alexander  127, 159, 160 Dulles, John Foster  258 duplex cognitio Dei 459 duplex gratia 336 Dupuis, Jacques  454 Dutch East Indies. See Indonesia Dutch Guiana  192 Dutch Reformed Church in America  254, 255, 307 connections of with English Presbyterians 127 missionary activity of  146, 159, 161–62, 164, 167, 169, 185, 187 polity of  34, 35 Dwight, Timothy  59

E

ECO (Covenant Order of Evangelical Presbyterians) 91 Eagan, John  555 East India Company  159, 167 Eastern Orthodoxy  249, 313 ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda, secundum verbum dei 389 Ecclesiology. See church Ecuador 191 ecumenical co-workers  148 Ecumenical Missionary Conference  257 “Ecumenical Stance of the Presbyterian Church (USA)”  382 ecumenism  4, 133, 137, 253–63 participation of Presbyterians in  253, 382 Edgar, William  2 Edict of Nantes  46

index   591 Edinburgh Missionary Conference.  See International Missionary Conference education 569–77 challenges in  577 and characteristics of church-related colleges 575 denominational and localist differentiation in 573–74 differentiation and  572–76 importance of to Presbyterians  3, 307–8, 569, 577 liberty and  570–71 and the mission of denominational colleges 575 Presbyterian influence on  4, 569–73 reason and  571–72 and the relationship between faith and learning 577 sociohistorical developments and differentiation in  575–76 theological and epistemological differentiation in  574–75 and a typology of church-related colleges 575 Edward VI  25 Edwards, Jonathan emphasis of on the Holy Spirit of  351 and the First Great Awakening  126, 405, 427, 571 on human freedom  306 legacy of  306 on miracles  428 on sin  405 theology of  59, 254 egalitarianism  31, 404 Egerton, Sir Robert  160 Eglise Presbyterienne Camerounaise  147 Egypt  196, 198–99, 205, 206–207, 208, 452 Eisenhower, Dwight  87 El Faro magazine  178 El Salvador  181 elders as a church office  3, 9, 23, 24, 26, 507 deposing of  35 equality of  29, 32 LGBTQI individuals as  246, 487

role of  3, 23, 24, 26, 32, 34, 38, 40, 41, 53, 126, 244–45, 247, 248 selection of  25, 32, 35, 155 subscription of to the Westminster Confession of  407 term of service of  35 types of  3 vows of  275, 416–17 vote of in the Fosdick case  104 women as  75, 77, 87, 90, 224, 260, 261, 269–70, 272, 319, 487 work of  21, 22, 126, 148, 430, 432, 479 election  301, 305, 397–409 See also predestination as based on God’s mercy  398 benefits of  401 connection of Christ with  407–8 definition of  397 of those dying as infants  406–7 as essential to salvation  398–99, 400 and God’s choice of individuals in the Old Testament 398 and God’s choice of Israel  398 and human responsibility  398, 399 mystery of  398, 402, 409n4 in the New Testament  398 objections of to the doctrine  400–1 purpose of  398 relationship of to the doctrine of God 397 for salvation and service  388 as unconditional  402, 404, 411n30 the Westminster Confession on  232, 233, 236 Eliot, Charles  571–72 Elliot, Alison  135 Elizabeth I  541, 542 Elizabeth II  543 Ellinwood, Frank M.  445 English Civil War  37, 40, 44, 119, 121 English Presbyterianism  42, 44, 47, 121–23, 126 and the founding of the Presbyterian Church of England  129 and the Presbyterian Church of England  133, 164, 165, 167 and the Presbyterian Synod in  127, 129

592   index English Presbyterians  37–45 English Whigs  278 Enlightenment challenge of to Christian orthodoxy  218 and common-sense realism  462, 464 and Deism  403 emphasis of on education and reason of  126, 127, 128, 137, 151, 404, 444 impact of on Presbyterianism  126, 277, 297, 303, 458, 469 impact of on theology  26, 122–23, 458 perspective on history of  339 epiclesis 250n6 Episcopal Church  86, 482–83 Episcopalians  146, 268, 553, 557 epistemology  297, 466–67. See also common-sense realism Erasmus, Desiderius  12–13 Erastianism  29–30, 33, 35, 42 Erastians  30, 37, 43, 47 Erdman, Charles as a candidate for moderator of the PCUSA General Assembly  107 and conflict at Princeton Theological Seminary 108 as a contributor to The Fundamentals 76 defense of the Holiness and Higher Life movements by  355 on the Holy Spirit  356 as the moderator of the PCUSA General Assembly 107 as a Princeton Theological Seminary professor  101, 106 and social reform  554–55 theological perspective of  101, 106, 107 Erdman, William  76 Erlangen school  339–40 Erskine College  87, 573 Erskine Seminary  88 Erskine, Ebenezer  62, 124 Erskine, John  131 eschatology 100. See also premillennialism; postmillennialism Establishmentarianism  543, 545, 546, 548. See also church-state relations ethics 527–36 as an academic discipline  534

authority for  530, 535 disagreement among Presbyterians about 534–35 impact of modern scholarship on  533 link of with theology and politics  530, 533 Reformed doctrine as the best platform for 408 teaching of in Presbyterian seminaries 533–34 ethnicity  73, 91, 154–55, 200, 318 Eucharist. See the Lord’s Supper euthanasia  317, 320 Eutyches 337 Eutychian  337, 340 Evangelical Alliance  130, 256, 257 Evangelical and Reformed Church of Honduras 181 Evangelical Century  127 Evangelical Church of Egypt  206 Evangelical Church (of Greece)  127 Evangelical Missionary Society of Basel. See Basel Mission Evangelical Party (Church of Scotland) 277, 543 Evangelical Presbyterian Church (EPC) adoption of Westminster Confession by  88, 408–9, 416 founding of  88, 224, 408 growth of  88 and the Holy Spirit  361 missionary activity of  190, 196 and the Orthodox Presbyterian Church  89 relationship of with the National Presbyterian Church of Mexico  223 Evangelical Presbyterian Church in England and Wales  136 Evangelical Presbyterian Church, Ghana  145–46, 153 Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Egypt 146 Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Peru  187 Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Togo  145 Evangelical Presbyterian Synod of Southwest Guatemala 180 Evangelical Revival  125–26. See also Great Awakening Evangelical Theological Seminary (Cuba)  182

index   593 Evangelical Union  131 Evangelical United Front  59, 221, 255. See also Second Great Awakening Evangelicalism in Africa  151 in America  27, 80–81, 82, 84, 85, 91, 99–100, 102, 108, 109, 112, 352, 405, 498 in Argentina  189 in Canada  90 in Ireland  129, 131 in Scotland  124–26, 127, 128, 130, 132, 135, 136, 307 evangelism. See also First Great Awakening; Second Great Awakening; revivals among Canadian Presbyterians  85 in China  101 interdenominational cooperation in 256, 262 in the Middle East  195, 196, 198, 452 in missions  128, 160, 559, 561 and preaching  516 Presbyterian emphasis on  4, 84, 89, 221, 260, 481, 498, 527 Reformed doctrine as the best platform for 408 and social reform  167 as a source of controversy  101, 110, 282, 283, 356–57 theologies of  454 Evans, David  56 evolution  74, 97, 101–4, 106, 112, 318, 465 Ewe  145, 149, 153, 154 Ewe Presbyterian Church  153 Ewing, Finis  404 exclusivism 449 excommunication  32, 39, 40, 41 Executive Committee on Overseas Evangelism (PCUS)  86 exsufflation  243, 250n5. See also baptism extra Calvinisticum 335

F

Faith and Order Commission  451 Faith and Order movement  4, 258 Falconer, Robert  558 Farel, William  23–24 Farmer, H. H.  309

Farukabad Mission  161 fatalism 404 Federal Council of Churches  4, 76, 77, 257, 271, 532 federal theology. See covenant theology Felices, José  189 female circumcision  147 feminism 310 feminist theology  84, 88, 90, 421 Ferguson, Sinclair  433 Ferre, Nels  359 fiducia 354 filioque  300, 359 final judgment  235 Finney, Charles. See also anxious bench; revivalism; Second Great Awakening conversion of  515 critique of Presbyterianism by  221 as an evangelist  130, 427, 515–16 impact of on worship  482, 498 influence of  131 message of  280, 530–31 on predestination  405 revival methods of (“new measures”)  220, 266, 280, 352, 405, 482, 515 sermons of  515–16 and support of women in ministry  266, 280, 517 theology of  280, 405 view of conversion of  482 First Amendment  1 First Book of Discipline  26, 276, 528 First Confession of Basel (1534)  230 First Great Awakening. See also Old Side-New Side schism controversy caused by  306 division caused by  40 ecumenical nature of  254 and education  571 and the growth of Presbyterianism in America 219 impact of on ordination of ministers  351 preaching in  512, 571 role of George Whitefield in  56 role of Jonathan Edwards in  405 First Helvetic Confession (1536)  230 First Nations cultures  448

594   index First Opium War  163, 165 Fisher, Edward F.  305 Fitch, George Ashmore  166 five fundamentals, the (PCUSA)  76, 98, 341, 355, 376, 415 Five Mile Act 1665  122 Flavel, John  123 Fleming, Daniel  447 Fleming, James  189 Fomum, Zacharias  430 foot-binding 561 Foreign Mission (Irish Presbyterian)  127 Foreign Missionary Board (PCUSA)  197 Foreman, Charles W.  160 Foreman Christian College  160, 576 Foreman, Kenneth  82 Foroughi, Mohammad Ali 203 Forsyth, Nathaniel  161 Forsyth, P. T.  305 Forward Movement  135 Fosdick, Harry Emerson Jr.  101–2, 103, 104, 105, 376, 518 France  22, 24, 30 Franciscans 10 Fraser, Thomas McKenzie  164 Frazer, James G.  444 Free Church of Scotland attendance of  129 divinity school of  129 educational system of  129 foreign missions of  129, 160, 161, 187 founding of  129, 278, 543 growth of  278 merging of with the United Presbyterian Church to form the United Free Church 132 as a model for the Presbyterian Church of Canada 65 persecution of  129 Freemasonry  186, 283 Free Masons  281, 283 Free Presbyterian Church of Australia  447 Free Presbyterian Church (of Scotland)  132, 133, 278 Free Presbyterian Church of Ulster  134 “free soil” movement  255 Freedom’s Journal 61

Frei, Hans  414 Frelinghuysen, Theodore Jacobus (Dutch Reformed minister)  254 Frelinghuysen, Theodore (Dutch Reformed/ Presbyterian politician)  547 French Confession (1559)  229, 230, 296, 402 French Reformed Church  31–33, 35 French Revolution  204, 351–52 Frontier Fellowship  207 Fuentes, Julio  182 Fuller Theological Seminary  82, 85, 112 Fuller, Charles  112 Fundamentalist Presbyterian Church  186 fundamentalists. See also fundamentalistmodernist controversy criticism of the fact/theory distinction by 106 criticisms of  101–2, 105, 356, 518 critique of theological liberals by  100 defense of the faith by  415 founding of nondenominational churches by 111 in Korea  284–85 militancy of  78 outside of America  112 strategy of to control the PCUSA  104, 108 withdrawal of from the PCUSA  111 fundamentalist-modernist controversy  97–112. See also PCUSA as a Christological debate  341 factors contributing to  77 impact of  78, 375 and intellectual, cultural, and social developments 74 and missions  447 and Presbyterians  533 and women’s ordination  270 The Fundamentals: A Testimony to the Truth 76

G

Gale, George Washington  515 Galen 461 Galli, Mark  513, 514 Gallican Confession. See French Confession Gallman, June 180 gambling  78, 553, 557, 558, 559 Gammon Presbyterian Institute  186

index   595 Garnet, Henry Highland  61, 517, 531 Garrison, William Lloyd  280 Geddes, Jenny  478 gender relations  319, 532 gender roles  272 gender studies  1 General Assembly (PCUSA) affirmation of five fundamentals by  76, 98, 261, 341 disapproval of the World’s Parliament of Religions by  446 formation of  51, 57, 546 of 1925  107 of 1923  104 Pastoral Letter of 1832  266–67 and slavery  58, 60 special commission of to study causes of unrest 107–8 and women’s ordination  87, 266, 269, 270 General Body of Protestant Dissenting Ministers 122 General Synod of the Protestant Church  165 general revelation  370, 440, 449 Geneva College  574 Geneva Confession  230 Geneva, Switzerland as a clearinghouse for Reformed theology 30 execution of Michael Servetus in  297 impact on other Reformed polities  35 as a model for Presbyterian polity  30–31 provisions of for the poor  389 Genevan Academy  31 Genevan Psalter 494 genocide  196, 205 genus apotelesmaticum 337 genus idiomaticum 337 genus majestaticum 337 George III  160, 552 Gerhart, Emmanuel V.  339 German Reformed Church  35, 482–83 Ghana  144–45, 153, 548, 559 Gibson, T. C.  164 Gillespie, George  55 Gillespie, Thomas  125 Gladden, Washington  100 Gladstone, William E.  133

Glasgow  33, 128, 131 Glasgow Assembly  33 Global Evangelical Church  146 global north  446, 448 global south  536 globalization  142, 152 Glorious Revolution of 1688  47, 531 Glory to God (hymnal)  504 Glossa Ordinaria 13 “Glossolalia” (PCUS)  360–61 glossolalia  360, 428, 429, 432 Gloucester, James  61 Gloucester, Jeremiah  61 God 293–314 attacks on the traditional doctrine of  312 as the author of sin  401–2, 405 as a benign civil governor  304 as beyond comprehension  299 as creator  2, 229, 237, 247, 293, 299, 397, 404, 459 freedom of  440, 454 grace of  241, 242 301 holiness of  293 immanence of  341 immutability of  300, 337, 340 incomparability of  293 infinity of  293 as judge  301 love of  17, 130, 236, 301, 305 mercy of  301 names of  300 perfection of  294, 299–300 proofs for the existence of  294, 304 as redeemer  18, 293, 301, 328, 440, 459 as self-defining  293 as self-existing  293, 300, 466 as self-revealing  294, 309, 366 sovereignty of  2, 80, 236, 300, 302, 306, 311, 321, 387, 401, 404, 405, 440, 454, 477, 479, 527, 551 as triune  293, 296–97, 299, 304 Westminster Confession on the doctrine of  298, 299 Gold Coast. See Ghana Gonzales, Justo  182 Good Shepherd Hospital  560 good works  233, 234, 385–86, 399–402, 528

596   index Goodwin, Thomas  350 Gordon, Andrew  160 Gordon, Charles William  558 Gospel Light Publications  80–81 Gospel Missionary Society  147–48 Gould, Rhoda  187 Graham, Billy  83, 427, 482, 516, 519 Gran Colombia. See Colombia Grant, George Monro  548 Graybill, Anthony T.  182 Great Commission  99 Great Commission Publications  87 Great Disruption. See Disruption of the Church of Scotland Great eagle Spirit  362 Great Migration  54 Great Trek  544 Great War the. See World War I Green, James  553 Green, J. Milton  183 Green, William Henry  67 Greene, William Brenton  533 Gregory of Nazianzus  13 Gregory VII  10 Grenada 185 Grimke, Francis  517, 548 Grinnan, Randolph Bryan  168 Guanabara Confession of Faith  186 Guatemala 179–80 Guerrant, E. O.  66 gun control  409 Guthrie, Shirley  85, 321, 449 Guthrie, Thomas  128, 130 Guyana 192 Guyana Presbyterian Church  192 Guzman, Jose Manuel Ibanez  188

H

Hail, Alexander Durham  168 Hail, John Baxter  168 Hail, Mary  168 Hail, Rachel  168 Haiti  183, 184 Hall, Douglas John  449 Hamas 206 Hamid, Sultan Abdul II  204 Hamilton, William  124

Hampton, John  53, 54 Hamstra, Sam  434 Han, Kyung Chik  562 Han, Sang Gon  285 Hanǎnim  310, 445 Hannen, James  190 Happy Union 1691  122 Harnack, Adolf  99, 105, 340 Haroutunian, Joseph  80 Harris, Howell  126 Harris, Townsend  168 Harvard College  59, 303, 570, 571 Hart, D. G.  539 Hastings, Harry  560 Hauerwas, Stanley  415 Haymaker, Edward M.  179 “Haystack prayer meeting”  197 healing  151, 355, 360–61, 417, 421, 428–29, 430–32, 445, 485 healthcare  149, 179, 208 heaven  15, 233, 237, 242, 245, 513, 553 Hegel, G. W. F.  339 Hegelian idealism  304–5 Hegeman, Neil  183 Heidelberg Catechism (1563) and the Apostles’ Creed  19 on Christology  391 as an expression of the Reformed synthesis 17 on God’s law  325, 368 importance of as a Reformed confession  17, 298 and the knowledge of the triune God 296 and the Lord’s Prayer  19 on predestination and election  402 question and answer format of  19 silence of on church-state relations  540 social and political context for  18–19 and the sovereignty of God  236 and the Ten Commandments  19 Heim, Mark  454 Heinz, H. J.  553 Hellenistic world  23 Helseth, Paul  463 Hemphill, Samuel  56 Henderlite, Rachel  272, 517

index   597 Henderson, Alexander  43 Hendry, George  358–59 Henry, Matthew  123, 511–12 Henry, Patrick  546 Hepburn, Clara  168 Hepburn, James Curtis  168 Heppe, Heinrich  334 heresy trials  66–67, 135, 341, 376. See also Charles Briggs; David Swing Hermann, Wilhelm  340–41 Hermit Kingdom. See Korea Hernandez, Antonio Badillo  183 Hesselink, John  427 Hestenes, Roberta  262 Hezbollah 206 Hick, John  343, 449 Higher Life movement  355 Highland Clearances  278 Hill, John Clark  179 Hinduism  142, 310, 445, 447, 448 Hindus  160, 185 nationalism of in India  453–54 relationship of Presbyterians with in India 453 historical-critical method  81 Hitchcock, Alonzo David  187 Hitchcock, Bessie  187 Hitler, Adolf  83 HIV  142, 260 Hodge, Archibald A. on biblical inspiration  67, 353, 376, 406 on the Lord’s Supper  234–35 on morality  324 on the new covenant in Christ  233 on regeneration  234 on theistic evolution  74 Hodge, Caspar Wistar Jr.  108, 109 Hodge, Charles on apologetics  464 on Calvinism  221 Christology of  340 and common-sense realism  463 on evolution  74, 465 on natural theology  464 on New Haven theology  328, 353 pneumatology of  353 on political allegiance  547

on predestination and election  404–5, 411n33 on Presbyterian history  221 on proofs for God’s existence  464 as a proponent of theological conservatism 307 on sin  59 Hodge, Margaret  270 Hodgson, Peter  392–93 Hofstadter, Richard  569 Holiness movement  355 Holiness teachings  99 Hollenweger, Walter  434 Holmes, Samuel  553 Holy Roman Empire  10, 18 Holy Spirit  349–62 baptism of  355, 431, 432 and the charismatic movement  426–27, 429–32 doctrine of as controversial  358 emphasis on among nonwestern Presbyterians 362 filling of  355 as the final authority for ministers  355 gifts of  355, 358, 360, 361 indwelling of  351, 357, 358, 427 as inspiring the prophets and apostles  361 interest in by Reformed Christians  427 movements promoting  355 personal nature of  300 and reconciliation  359 in relation to non-Christian religions  440 relationship of with Jesus  358 role of in calling people to ministry  236, 361 role of in the church  383 role of in conforming believers to the image of Christ  243 role of in conversion  18, 325, 350–52, 353, 356, 409n4, 460, 463 role of in illuminating Scripture  22, 350 role of in inspiring faith  242, 353, 354, 361 role of in preaching  509 role of in the sacraments  349–50, 477 role of in uniting believers with Christ  242 role of in the writing of the Bible  67, 353, 371 theological liberals on  355–58

598   index Holy Spirit (Continued) use of feminine language for  247 work of in the life of Jesus  335, 337 as working in non-Christians  442 the Westminster Confession on  232, 235, 300, 353–54 Home Rule (for Ireland)  133–34 Homeric Fates  398 homosexuality  88, 90, 91, 135, 152 Homrighausen, Elmer  80, 83 Honduras 181 Hong-jun, Baek  169 Hope Waddell Institute  559 Hopkins, John  496 Hopkins, Samuel  352 House of Commons  37, 39–40, 41–42, 129. See also Parliament (British) House of Lords  37, 40–41, 44, 47, 277. See also Parliament (British) Hudson, Matthew  514 Huguenots  24, 119, 185–86, 254, 281 humanity 317–328 creation of in God’s image  3, 143, 300, 311, 318–19 dependence on God of  319 depravity of  17, 322 dignity of  317, 318–20, 326, 328 dominance of over creation  318–19 and the donum superadditum 330n25 equality of  319 finitude of  320 as the focus of God’s interest  237 free will of  3, 233, 302, 323–24 and the full restoration of God’s image  325 fundamental unity of  318 goodness of  444 and hope  324–26 interdependence of  319–20 and life after death  327 misery of  320–23 nature of  317, 327, 328n1 need of to be born again  325 origin of  317, 327 preciousness of  320 Presbyterian confessions and catechisms on 326 responsibility of to care for others  320

sinfulness of  3, 17, 19, 301, 317, 320–23, 325, 328, 405, 527 the Westminster Confession on  232, 235 work of  319 human trafficking  260 Hume, David  303, 463, 464 Hungary  35, 45 Hunsinger, George  415 Huss, Jan  10 Hutcheson, Francis  124 Hymnbook (1956)  81, 503 The Hymnal (1895)  500 hymnody 500–4 Calvinist roots of  504 and Psalm singing  494, 495 and The Scottish Psalter 496 and the use of hymn texts not explicitly based on Scripture  498 and the use of musical instruments  498 and The Whole Booke of Psalmes 496 Hyonggyu, Pak  563

I

Ibiam, Sir Francis  548 idolatry  243, 293, 318, 322, 326, 388, 439, 440–41, 562 Igbo 153 Ignatius of Loyola  12 Igreja Pressbiteriana Renovada do Brasil  431 illiteracy  126, 146, 533, 557 Il-Sung, Kim  286 imperialism  202, 206, 310, 447, 554 inclusivism 449 Independent Board for Foreign Missions  77, 86, 110, 223, 261 Independent Presbyterian Church of Brazil  281–83, 486–87 India  160–61, 308, 310, 444, 447, 448, 452–54 American Presbyterian missions to  160–61 Christian-Muslim relations in  452 Free Church missions to  132 Scottish Presbyterian missions to  127, 160 Welch Calvinistic Methodist Church missions to  128 Indian removal  547 individualism  280, 297, 306, 319, 393, 454 Indonesia  164–65, 544

index   599 indulgences  11, 120 infanticide 559 infralapsarianism  232, 301, 401–2 Iona Community  135 Institutes of the Christian Religion  15, 17, 334, 335, 400, 459, 540 Institutes of Theology 127 integrative school of Alexandria  333, 342 Inter-American University of Puerto Rico  183 International Committee for the Nanking Safety Zone  166 International Conference of Reformed Churches 154 International Council on Biblical Inerrancy 378 International Council of Christian Churches 285 International Missionary Conference  99, 257–58, 451–52 International Missionary Council  83 International Presbyterian Church  136 International Presbytery  162 Internet 152 Interpretation: A Theological and Biblical Journal 81 interracial marriage  91, 559 Investiture Controversy  10 invisible church, the  20, 234, 254, 275, 441 Iran  196, 197, 201, 202–7 Iran-Contra Affair  207 Iranian Revolution  204, 206, 207 Ireland  35, 45, 120–21, 128–37, 297, 303, 307, 350 Irenaeus 336 Irenicum Ecclesiasticum 57 Iris 362 Irish Articles of Religion (1615)  120, 231 Irish Evangelical Church (later Irish Evangelical Presbyterian Church)  135 Irish Free State  134 Irish Pacific Act (1720)  55, 56 Irish Presbyterian Missionary Society  128 irresistible grace  402 Irving, Edward  128, 131, 340, 352, 425–426, 431 Irvingites  426, 429 Islam  45, 196–97. See also Muslims in Africa  142–43, 146 in America  443

Presbyterian appreciation of  451–52 Presbyterian criticism of  452 Islamic Jihadists  206–7 Islamic terrorists  452 Israel  196, 206–7, 450–52 Italy 127

J

Jackson, Thomas “Stonewall”  64 Jainism 142 Jamaica  127, 184 James VI of Scotland (later James I of England)  33, 117, 542 James VII of Scotland (later James II of England)  45, 47, 120, 121, 543 Japan  165–68, 271, 284–85, 310, 311, 448, 562 Jefferson, Thomas  547 Jesuits 198 Jesus Christ  333–44 active and passive obedience of  338 as the archetype of human perfection  339 ascension of  15, 98, 246, 271, 335 covenant theme in discussing the work of 337–38 crucifixion of  235, 418 descent of into hell of  335, 336 divine/human nature of  2, 319, 333, 334, 339–40, 343 divinity of  99, 102, 105, 123 as God-dependent  99 as the Great Ancestor  343 as head of the church  4, 117, 118, 128, 275 humanization of  336 humanity of  337, 339 humiliation and exaltation of  335 hypostatic union of  333, 336 influences on Presbyterian views of  333 as Lord  110, 454 as mediator  233, 301, 338 miracles of  76, 98 as a model  99, 338 as a moral teacher  103, 338 peccability of  131, 340 prayer of for Christian unity  275 as a prophet, priest, and king  387 resurrection of  2, 76, 98, 103 righteousness of reckoned to believers  321

600   index Jesus Christ (Continued) as Savior  2, 110, 233, 236, 333, 440, 454 as the Second Adam  339 solidarity of believers with  338 solidarity of with sinful humanity  340 three-fold office of  335 union of Christians with  333–34, 339 theosis of  336 use of rhetoric of  16 victory of over sin, death, and Satan of 336, 343 virgin birth of  76, 98, 102, 103, 107, 111 as the Word of God  365–66, 370 Jewett, Paul  318 Jews  142, 441, 442, 443, 450–51. See also Israel; Judaism Jim Crow laws  86, 261, 517, 548. See also racial discrimination Johns Hopkins University  571 Joint Committee on Presbyterian Union  89 “A Joint Statement upon the Relations of Science and Religion”  103 Jones, Edgar De Witt  519 Jordan  196, 206 Ju, Kil Sun  429 Judaism  439, 450–51. See also Jews Jue, Jeffrey  469 Junius, Franciscus  459 Junius, Robertus  167 jure divino Presbyterianism  221–22 justification. See salvation

K

Kant, Immanuel  304, 323, 338, 403, 464 Kantian revolution in philosophy  338, 466 Kasai Rubber Company  560 Kaseman, Mansfield  87–88, 224 Keimyung Christian College  562, 576 Keller, Timothy  520 Kellogg, Samuel H.  445 Kennedy, John  130 kenosis 339–40 kenotic theologies  305 Kenya  147–48, 149, 153, 362, 560 Kenyon, Walter Wynn  87, 88, 223, 224 Keswick conferences  355 Keswick teachings  99

Khomeini, Ayatollah 204 Kierkegaard, Søren  309 Kikuyu 153 Kil, Sun-chu  548 Kim, Hyung Nam  563 Kim, Ik-doo  430 King, Martin Luther Jr.  393, 519 King, Samuel  404 Kipling, Rudyard  445 Kirk o’Shotts Revival  350 Kirk Synod  65 Kirkpatrick, Clifton  259 Knox College (Toronto)  79, 84, 85 Knox, John agenda of  528 and the Book of Order of  504 and the development of a liturgy 495–96, 504 and devising of the Scots Confession 25, 230 on election  401 fighting spirit of  27 Form of Prayers of  495 founding of Presbyterianism by  26, 143, 401, 508, 528, 542, 544 life of  25 as a prophet  428 on worship  477 Koran  162, 208, 444 Korea 168–69 battles of Presbyterians over theology in 112 many different Presbyterian denominations in  486 missionary activity by Presbyterians in  171, 284, 486 political protests in  562 Presbyterian worship in  486 social reform in  561–62 Korean Declaration of Independence  284 Korean Great Revival  429 Korean Presbyterian Church. See Presbyterian Church in Korea Korean Presbyterian Church in Costa Rica 180 Korean Presbyterian Church Mission  148 Korean Presbyterian Church of America  190

index   601 Korean War  284, 285 Koryo Theological Seminary  285–86 Krishna 453 Kurds  195, 200, 202, 205 Kuwait 196 Kuyper, Abraham on apologetics  354, 466 defense of Reformed doctrine by  466 impact of on Presbyterian theological conservativism  5, 307 and Kantian philosophy  466 opposition of to theological modernism 465–66 as a Reformed statesman  4 on two kinds of science  466, 467

L

La Violenica 187 Lane, Horace  282 Lang, John Dunmore  545 Latin America  4, 177–93 challenges to Presbyterian in  193 as a cultural concept  177 dominance of Roman Catholicism in  177 factors contributing to the success of Protestantism in  177, 193 and independence  177 lack of Presbyterian success in  192–93 planting of Presbyterian and Reformed churches in  177–78 Presbyterian doctrine in  193 Presbyterian evangelistic efforts in  193 Presbyterian polity in  193 theological conflict in  193 Latin American Council of Churches (CLAI)  178, 180 Latin American Fellowship of Reformed Churches (CLIR)  178, 179, 180, 183, 186, 187 Latin American Mission  180 Latitudinarianism 124 Lauchlison, Margaret  119 Laud, William  33, 35, 118, 478, 542 law. See moral law Layman’s Bible Commentary 85 League of Evangelical Students  106 Lebanon  196, 198, 207, 520

Leber, Charles  259 lectio continua 509 Lee, Graham  430 Leibniz, Gottfried  303 Leith, John  233, 325 LeMercier, Andrew  46 lent 14–15 Leo X  11 Leopold of Belgium  560 lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, questioning, intersex (LGBTQI)  246–47, 434, 534, 535–36, 537n10 levirate marriage  235 Levison, Mary  517 Lex Rex 118 Liberalism. See theological liberalism liberation theology  343, 418, 420–21, 535 Liberia  280, 559 liberty of conscience  55–56, 124, 128 Licensing (Scotland) Act of 1976  135 “Life and Work of Women in the Church”  271 Life and Work Movement  4, 258 limited atonement  75, 125, 131, 402, 411n30 Lindbeck, George  414 Lindsell, Harold  377 Lingle, Walter L.  67, 555 Liturgy. See worship Living Faith (PCC) (1984)  237, 419 Livingston, John  350 Loetscher, Lefferts  223 Log College  350, 427 Logos  335, 337, 340, 342 London Missionary Society  144, 159, 161, 163 Longfield, Bradley J.  2 López, Buenaventura Giménez  190 López, Eulogio Giménez  190 Lord Ochiltry  429 Lord Protector  43–44 Lord’s Prayer  19, 478, 480, 494 Lord’s Supper administration of  246–47 Catholic view of  14 and Christ as lover or husband  479 and controversy over women’s ordination 271 dispute between Luther and Zwingli over  15, 21–22

602   index Lord’s Supper (Continued) as an eschatological feast  489 as a foretaste of the heavenly banquet  245 frequency of celebration of by Reformed Christians  21, 245, 246, 481, 489, 493, 502 Luther’s view of  12 as a means of strengthening Christians’ faith 245 and the nature of the elements  246, 250n7, 478 as pointing to Christ’s sacrifice  245 preparation for  22, 246, 479, 481 Presbyterian view of  3, 241–43, 245–49 qualifications for participating in  248–49 real presence of Christ in  478 relationship of with confirmation  248 standards for participating in  41–42 use of tokens for admission to  505n1 the Westminster Confession on  234–35 Lord’s Table. See Lord’s Supper Louis XIV  46 Louverture, Toussaint  184 Lowrie, John  160 Loyalists  57, 62, 546 Lucas, Sean Michael  2 Luthardt, Christoph Ernst  376 Luther, Martin on baptism  493, 494 and the beginning of the Reformation  7 on Christology  335 excommunication of  12 on good works  234 on human nature  233 importance of to Reformed Christianity  296 on justification by faith  11, 244, 349 on the law  386 on the Lord’s Supper  12, 15 opposition of to division in the church  384 opposition of to indulgences  11–12 on Scripture  384–86 sermons by to guide Lutheran preaching 21 two Kingdom view of  539–40 on worship  20–21 Lutheran pietism  427 Lutherans

in America  268, 547 Christology of  333, 334, 335, 336–37, 340 on church-state intertwining  547 in Egypt  146 and the Holy Spirit  350 on the Lord’s Supper  21, 242, 243, 249, 250n3 and the Two Kingdoms  539 worship of  20–21 Lyles, John  519

M

Macartney, Clarence  82, 102, 104, 107, 109, 518, 554–55 MacCulloch, William  125–26 Macdonald, A. B.  560 Macdonald, James  558 MacDougall, Sarah  187 Macfarlane, John  544–45 Machen, J. Gresham and Christianity and Liberalism  102–3, 106, 341, 377 Christology of  341 defrocking of by the PCUSA  77, 82, 110 and founding of Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions  77, 86, 110, 223, 261, 447 and founding of the OPC  77, 447 and founding of Westminster Theological Seminary  77, 109, 377, 572 as a fundamentalist leader  415, 572 on the Holy Spirit  356 opposition of to Charles Erdman  106 role of at Princeton Theological Seminary  106, 108 on Scripture  377 as a source of controversy  106, 108, 110 support of for the PCC  79 and the Westminster Confession 102–3, 572 MacIntyre, John  166, 168–69 Mackay, Calvin  187 MacKay, George Leslie  167 Mackay, Jane  187 Mackay, John  81, 83, 258, 259, 358, 360, 426, 467 Mackay, John Alexander  187 Mackay, Rachel  187 Mackenzie, Donald  474

index   603 Mackenzie Presbyterian University  186, 281, 576 Mackintosh, Hugh R.  132, 305, 339, 340, 418 Maclaurin, John  124 Macleod, Donald  469 MacLeod, George  135 MacLeod, Norman  128 Makemie, Francis  46, 53, 54, 217–18, 224, 529, 545–46 Malawi  146–47, 153, 560 Malaysia 163–64 Malta 127 Maori culture  448 March First 1919 Independence Movement (Korea) 284 Marco Polo Bridge Incident  166 Maronites  198, 200 Marrow controversy  47, 124, 305 Morrow of Modern Divinity, The  124, 305 Marrowmen  124, 305 Marsden, George  352, 355, 572 Martinez, Emilio  184 Mary, queen of England, wife of William or Orange  120, 541, 543 Mary of Guise  25, 528 Mary Stuart  26, 528, 542 Mary Tudor  25, 478, 528 Mass  12, 14, 21–22, 26, 46, 478, 484, 493 Mather, Cotton  53 Mathews, Shailer  414 Matthews, Mark  270–71, 553 Maxwell, James Laidlaw  167 Mbiti, J. S.  151, 156n8 McAdow, Samuel  404 McAfee, Clement  270 McAlpine, Robert Eugenius  168 McCarthy, Joseph  81 McCheyne, Robert Murray  128 McClure, John  518 McCord, James  81 McCormack, Bruce  415, 466–67 McCosh, James  465, 571–72 McCracken, John  259 McFarlin, Robert M.  574 McGiffert, Arthur C.  66–67, 355 McGill, Alexander  268 McGilvary, Daniel  162

McGready, James  513–14 McGuinness, Martin  134 McIntire, Carl  78, 285 McKelway, Alexander J.  67, 555 McKim, Donald  377, 390 McLeod, Alexander  62 McNish, George  53, 54 McPherson, Aimee Semple  516 Mead, Sidney  52 means of grace  366, 369, 386 Mears, Henrietta  80–81 Mediating theology (German)  339 Medical Benevolence Foundation  560 medieval theology  12, 14, 16, 244, 294–95, 300, 301, 335 Melanchthon, Philip  367 Melville, Andrew  118 Mercersburg Theology  482–83 Merrill, William  355 Methodists 268, in America  51, 53, 79, 86, 111, 165, 258, 267, 268, 269, 481, 482, 513, 548, 553, 569 in Canada  78, 222, 286, 418 division of over slavery  63 and education  569 in Korea  429 in Nigeria  559 and revivals  480, 481, 514, 515, 532 and social reform  553, 557 union discussions with other denominations by  99 Mexican-American War  178 Mexican Revolution  178 Mexico  178–79, 182, 185, 192, 222–23 Mia, Tiu Chhang  167 Michael, Bame  431 Mid-Atlantic Association of Theological Students 106 Middle East  195–208 Bible translation in  199, 200 bringing of American Protestant values to  195, 206 Christian schools in  198–205 contests over religious and political rights in  195–96, 202 culturally contextualized worship and evangelism in  195, 208

604   index Middle East (Continued) efforts to expel missionaries from  202–3 efforts to resolve conflict in  559 evangelicalism in  195 exploitation of Presbyterian missionaries in 196 missionary activities in  198–99 nationalism in  195–96, 200–203, 205, 206–8 persecution of Christians in  196, 204, 205, 207 political and social reform in  202 use of television in evangelism in  207–8 Middle East Media  207 Migliore, Daniel  325–26, 449, 454 Miller, Samuel  59, 516 millet system  196, 200 Mills, Samuel J.  197 Mills, Wilson Plummer  166 Milton, John  121 Minjung theology  311 miracles  98, 334, 341, 352, 355, 361, 428, 430–31, 433. See also cessationism Mission to Persia  200 missions benefits of  308, 445, 551, 559 changing approach toward in the twentieth century 447 and colonialism and imperialism  308, 445, 448 and contextual theologies  448 controversy over in the PCUSA  109–110 and critique of non-Christian religions 444 and debates over the uniqueness and superiority of Christianity  448 and ethical debates  532 and evangelism and church planting  560 and exploitation, racism, and sexism  308 and the inculturation of the gospel  448 and the promotion of morality  531, 533 and the shift from conversion to interreligious dialogue  448 theocentric approach to  449 and topical preaching  520 Mizo Presbyterian Church  162 Moderate party (Church of Scotland 1752–1805) 124

Moderates. See Moderate party “Modernism in China”  101 Moderatism 303 Moffett, Samuel  169, 562 Moir, Charles  163 Moir, John  63 moira 398 Moltmann, Jürgen  147, 383 Monck, George  42 Mondale, Walter  204 monergism  301, 409 monism  317, 323, 327 monogenism 318 Montanists 426 Moody, Dwight L.  66, 130, 256, 355, 516 Moore, Joseph  540 Moore, Walter W.  67 moral law ability of humans to discern  301 accountability of people for disobeying  400 difficulty of obeying because of sinfulness 325 and the gospel  366–68 Heidelberg Catechism on  19, 325 purpose of  21, 234, 367–68, 369, 398, 417 Reformed perspective on  386 requirement to obey  4, 319, 322, 551–52 three uses of  386, 536n2 the Westminster Confession on  232, 234 Morales, Arcadio  178 Morhatch, Abraham  201 Morison, James  131 Morrison, Robert  407 Morrison, William  560 Morton, John  185 Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch  74, 75, 376 Moses  16, 367–68, 398 Mossadeq, Mohammad  203 Mota, João Carlos de Paula  191 Mott, John R.  257 mujerista 312 Muller, Richard  459 Mullin, Robert Bruce  1 Murray, John  87 Muslims 196–208 attempt of Christians to find common ground with  447

index   605 Christian portrayals of  442 conversion of to Christianity  197, 208 dialogue of Presbyterians with  452 and efforts to convert to Christianity  185, 444, 451 as an enemy  451, 452 and the World’s Parliament of Religions 445 Myanmar  162, 170–71 mysticism  353, 359 Mzimba, James Phambani  147

N

Nasser, Gamal Abdel  206 National Association of Bible Instructors.  See American Academy of Religion National Association of Evangelicals  261, 286 National Council of Churches of Christ (NCCC) Presbyterian concerns about liberalism of  81, 82 Presbyterian leadership of  257 Presbyterian participation in the founding of 84 support of for the civil rights movement 259 National Covenant of 1638 (Scotland)  118, 120, 542 National Evangelical Presbyterian Church of Guatemala 179–80 National Middle Eastern Presbyterian Caucus  196, 205 National Presbyterian Church of Belize  181 National Presbyterian Church of Mexico  179, 181, 222 National Reform Association  542, 555–56 nationalism  195–96, 199–207, 284, 287, 453, 530, 544 Native Americans  255, 443, 448, 555 natural law  429, 461, 469 natural religion  103, 443 natural revelation  232, 457, 459–65, 467 natural theology  5, 299, 309, 457–62, 464–69 Nature of the Atonement, The 306 Nazism  258, 309, 326 Near East Relief  205 Necessity of Reforming the Church, The 390

negative theology  336 neo-Calvinism  5, 458, 465–68 neo-Hegelianism 136 neo-Kantian 340 neo-orthodoxy 413–22. See also Karl Barth in the Church of Scotland  136 development of  413 difficulty of defining  422n1 emphasis of on God’s transcendence  310 emphasis of on social engagement  310 impact of on the PCC  84–85, 90 impact of on the PCUS  85 impact of on the PCUSA  80, 81, 84, 85, 90, 111 impact of on Presbyterianism  91, 421 rejection of natural theology by  5 as a third way  415–19, 422 neo-Pentecostalism  310, 358, 359, 360–61 Nestorian 334 Nestorians 200 Nestorius 334 Netherlands and Arminianism  402 church divisions in  307 government support for religion in  540–41 impact of Calvinism on  551 Presbyterians in  34, 47, 127, 221 Protestants in  22, 24, 44, 352 religious tolerance in  47 as a safe haven for Reformed Christians  34 Netherland Missionary Society  144, 159 Nettleton, Asahel  427 Nevin, John W.  339, 340 Nevius, John L.  169 Nevius Method  169 new birth. See salvation New Castle Presbytery  55 The New Confession of 1972  236–37 New Divinity  59, 352 New Haven Theology  59, 220–21, 303, 350, 353 New Lichts  125 New Lights  306, 427, 571 New School Presbyterians. See also abolitionism; Old School-New School schism acceptance of New Haven theology by  221 accused of Pelagianism  516 approach of to cultural issues  59, 60

606   index New School Presbyterians (Continued) critique of by Old School  59–60, 220–22 division of  63–64 and evangelism  481, 498 participation of in the Second Great Awakening  221, 255 reunion of with Old School  57, 64, 224, 256 revivalist emphasis of  99, 266 and slavery  553 and social reform  553 theology of  52, 59 worship style of  481 New Side Presbyterians. See also Old Side-New Side schism acceptance of Americanization by  57 critique of the Old Side by  351 emphasis of on conversion and holiness  56, 219, 224, 254 and the founding of Princeton  57, 571 growth of  57 and the leadership of the Tennents  56, 219, 350–51 Old Side criticism of  219, 351 reunion of with the Old Side  254 support of the First Great Awakening by  56 theology of  52 New Wilmington Missionary Conference  76 New Zealand  99, 112, 307, 308, 448, 544–45 Newbigin, Lesslie  426, 450 Newton, Elizabeth  160 Newton, John  160 Nicaragua 181 Nicene Creed  105, 254, 275, 295, 297, 300, 326, 382 Nichols, Robert Hasting  355, 508 Nicholson, W.P.  135 Niebuhr, H. Richard  387, 414 Niebuhr, Reinhold  83, 310, 321, 414, 418 Niesel, Wilhelm  368 Nigeria  127, 143, 146, 453, 559–60 Nile Theological College  560 Ninety-five theses  10, 11 Njoya, Timothy  560 Noll, Mark  58, 64, 577 nominalism  13, 123 Nonconformists  45, 122, 123, 308, 529 Non-Subscribing Presbyterian Church  123 nonsubscription 303

North Korea  170 Northern Baptist Convention (NBC)  97, 101 notitia 354 noumena 466. See also Immanuel Kant

O

obedience (active and passive)  338 Occasional Conformity Act of 1711  122 Ockenga, Harold J.  82 Oecolampadius, Johannes  15, 494 Old Lights  125, 306, 427, 571 Old School Presbyterians. See also Old-School-New School schism criticism of the New School by  220–22 division of  64, 222 focus of on evangelism and Christian nurture 60 New School criticism of  221 opposition of to cooperation with Congregationalists 220 opposition of to revivalism  220 Princeton Theological Seminary as the intellectual base for  59 and reunion with the New School  65, 224, 256 and slavery  60 and support for the Union  64 theology of  52, 59–60 worship style of  481, 482 Old School-New School schism  279–81, 307 Disagreements about close alliance with Congregationalists in  255, 352 disagreements about polity in  280 disagreement over the propriety of revivals in  266, 279, 352 disagreement over the Westminster Confession in  221, 280 role of slavery in  60, 221, 280, 375 theological differences involved in  221, 279, 375, 404, 516 Old Side Presbyterians  352 criticism of New School by  219, 352 emphasis of on theological orthodoxy 56–57 New School criticism of  350–51 opposition of to revivals  56 reunion of with New Side  57, 64, 224, 256 theology of  52

index   607 Old Side-New Side schism differing views or revivalism, itinerant preaching, and polity in  306 differing views of theology, the church, and preaching in  512, 516 and dispute over predestination  404 Oman, John  309 On the Origin of Species 74 Operation Mobilization  207 opium usage  561 Orange Free State  544 Orange Order  135 ordination of homosexuals  89, 90, 91, 135 in the Church of Scotland  135 in Ireland  135 in the United States  556 in Wales  135 ordines 496 Orthodox Presbyterian Church (OPC) commitment of to the Westminster Confession 408–9 complaints about neo-orthodoxy in the PCUSA  84, 85 and discussion of merger with other Reformed denominations  89 founding of  77–78, 110, 223, 261, 270, 285, 377, 408, 415 missionary activity of  183, 285 Sunday school curriculum of  87 theology of  518 union talks of with the CRC  84 warnings about theological liberalism 83, 84 and women’s ordination  84, 90 worship in  485 Osborn, Henry Fairfield  103 Osiris 362 Osuna, Heráclito  188 Ottati, Douglas  343 Ottoman Empire  195, 196, 198, 199 Overseas Missionary Fellowship. See China Inland Mission Owen, John  350, 427

P

pactum salutis 301 Paedobaptism Paget, John  34

Pahlavi Reza Mohammad  204 Pahlavi, Reza Shah  202–3 Paisley, Ian  134 Pakistan 160 Palestinians  195–96, 206–7, 451 Palmer, B.M.  64, 67 Panama 181 Paraguay 190 Park, Chung-Hee  562–63 Park, Sangyil  520 Parkhurst, Charles  553 Parliament (Great Britain). See also House of Commons; House of Lords and Anglicanism  122 and Charles I  44, 119 and church reform  541 and opium  561 and patronage  276 and Presbyterian polity  529 and the United Church of Canada  79 and the Westminster Assembly  37, 39–42 Parsonage, Robert  575 Parvin, Theophilus III  189 Passover 385 Pastor Letter, a  266–67 pastoral theology  36, 338 pastors and the American Revolution  552 as biblical teachers and theologians  21, 24 education of  182, 184, 187, 247, 282, 413 expectations for  3, 25, 480 oversight of  54, 282 preaching of  20, 80, 512, 516, 520–21 role of  3, 24, 244, 372, 373–74 selection of  47 and social reform  554, 556 and standards for ordination of in seventeenth-century England  39–40, 44 subscription of to the Westminster Confession 415 theology of  99 women serving as  75, 260, 265, 270–71, 319, 487 work of  67, 256, 277, 282, 488, 498 patristic theology  333, 335 patronage  47, 120, 124, 132, 276–78, 543 Patronage Act of 1712  276

608   index Pattillo, Manning  574 Patton, Francis  353 Paul, Apostle on election  398–99, 400, 401 interpretation of  16 and the Lord’s Supper  22 preaching of  16 on the qualifications for elders  35 on reconciliation with God  408 and Scripture  367, 371, 374 Pauw, Amy Plantinga  392 Peace of Augsburg  18 Peace, Unity, and Purity Task Force (PC[USA])  90, 415 Peacemaking: The Believer’s Calling (PC[USA]) 556 Peel, Robert  128 Pelagianism  279, 323, 399, 409n4, 516 Pelagius 399 Penal Laws (Ireland)  531–32 penal substitution  336, 343 Pennington, James W. C.  531 Pentateuch  74, 75, 376 Pentecostalism B. B. Warfield on  355 and church conflict in Venezuela  192 and Edward Irving  131 growth of  434 impact of on Presbyterian worship in Africa 486 impact of on Presbyterian worship in Brazil 486 opposition to by conservative Calvinists  426, 433 Presbyterian appreciation of  426 as a rediscovery of the Holy Spirit  426 as a revolution  426 as a third force in Christianity  426 Pentecostalization 430 Pentecostals 181 Pereira, Eduardo Carlos  186, 281, 282–83 Perkins, Justin  199–200 Perkins, William  350 Permanent Judicial Commission of the General Assembly  87, 88, 224 Perry, Matthew  168 Perry Convention  168

perseverance of the saints  234, 402, 404 Persia 198–208 Persian Constitutional Revolution  201–2 personalism 309 Peru  132, 187 Pew, J. Howard  85 pharaonism 205–6 Philadelphia Presbytery  52, 53–54, 279 Philip of Hesse  15 Philippines  159, 165 philosophy and apologetics  460 Aristotelian 460 and Princeton theologians  463–64 realist 460 and Reformed theologians  459–61, 463 as a servant to theology  460 physicalism  323, 327 Pidgeon, George  558 Pieris, Aloysius  154 Pierson, Arthur Tappan  257, 553 pietists  99–100, 144–45, 352 piety Catholic 12 in the early Christian church  296 emphasis of the UPCNA on  77 Friedrich Schleiermacher on  304 and indigenous forms of in the Middle East 208 John Calvin on  17 New Side-Old Side disagreement over  57, 219, 404 Protestant practice of  256, 296 and revivals in Scotland and Ireland  350 and the sacraments  243, 249 Scots-Irish 56 and the Westminster Directory 479 Pike, James A.  258 Piper, John  433 Plan of Union (1801)  58, 59, 60, 197, 219–20, 254, 279, 280, 352 Plato 398 Religious pluralism  90–91, 153, 218, 224, 309, 343, 439, 449–50 pneumatology  350, 353. See also Holy Spirit Pobee, J. S.  154 political corruption  142, 558, 559

index   609 polity 217–225. See also Old School-New School; Old Side-New Side in Africa  155 in America  55, 217–22, 223–24, 409, 552, 573 in Australia  222 basic structure of Presbyterian  3, 6, 23–25 battles over at the Westminster Assembly  30, 37–44, 402 in Canada  79 and the Church of England  529 of the French Reformed Church  31–33 Geneva as a model for Presbyterian  3, 24 influence of European Reformed churches on Presbyterian  30–31 in Korea  223, 562 in Scotland  25, 33, 45, 47 Pond, Theodore Strong  189 Popular Party  124 pornography  91, 327, 559 Portland Deliverance  75 Portugal 136 “Position Paper on the Holy Spirt” (EPC)  361 postmillennialism  74–75, 101 Postmodernism  1, 312, 408, 575 poverty in Africa  142 in America  74–75 in Korea  430 Presbyterian efforts to abate  409, 417, 518–19, 530, 533, 555, 556, 557, 558, 563 in Scotland  128, 543, 557 power of contrary choice  323–24 Pratt, Henry Barrington  186, 188 Preaching 507–19. See also Westminster Directory for Public Worship in contemporary Korea  520 differences in Old School and New School styles of  516 digital and visual communication in  521 distinctiveness of Presbyterian  507 expository  14, 20 “house church” style of  521 importance of for transforming America 66 narrative form of  520 nature and importance of  3

power of  521 Reformed emphasis on  21 on social justice  517 teaching-oriented 520 women and  517 predestination 397–409 and the death and resurrection of Jesus 399 definition of  397 double  75, 300, 397, 402, 403 and the order of God’s decrees  401 relationship of to the doctrine of God  397 relationship of with God’s foreknowledge 399–400 the Westminster Confession on  232, 300 premillennialism  78, 100, 109, 131 Presbyterian Charismatic Communion 359, 432 Presbyterian and Reformed Churches of Costa Rica  180 Presbyterian and Reformed Evangelical Church in Peru  187 Presbyterian and Reformed Renewal Ministries International  432 Presbyterian Church in the Confederate States of America  64, 222 Presbyterian Church in India  161 Presbyterian Church in Korea  170, 283–86, 407, 431 Presbyterian Church in Korea (Hapdong) 286 Presbyterian Church in Korea (Tonghap) 286 Presbyterian Church in Paraguay  190 Presbyterian Church in Singapore  163–64 Presbyterian Evangelistic Fellowship  180 Presbyterian Women  260 Presbyterians in Asia future of  170–71 and indigenous churches  170 missionary activity of  171 social and political restrictions on  171 Presbyterianism in France  43, 46, 47, 127 Presbyterianism in Italy  127 Presbyterianism in Wales  126, 162, 532 Presbyterians and Peacemaking: Are We Now Called to Resistance? (PC[USA])  556

610   index Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) commitment of to inerrancy  86, 261 commitment of to predestination  261 commitment of to the spirituality of the church  86, 261 commitment of to the Westminster Confession  86, 408–9, 416 founding of  86, 224, 261, 377, 408, 417 and founding of Covenant College  573 and the Holy Spirit  361 merger discussions of  89 missionary activity of  181, 184, 187, 188, 191, 196, 208 opposition of to women’s ordination 261, 272 Sunday school curriculum of  87 worship in  485, 499 Presbyterian Church in Cameroon  147, 430 Presbyterian Church in Canada (PCC) adoption of the Westminster Confession of Faith by  78 Book of Praise of  496 on Communism and Catholicism as threats 85 decline in membership of  91, 222 evangelistic efforts of  85 and foreign missions  169, 185, 192, 284 founding of  51, 65, 73 growth of in the 1950s  85 and the Holy Spirit  361 and human sexuality  91 lack of a theological center in  79 liturgy of  76 and neo-orthodoxy  91, 418 opposition of to alcohol use  78 opposition of some members of to joining the United Church of Canada  79, 286 problems of  91 and social issues  91 and social reform  558–59 Sunday school curriculum of  79 support of for strict Sabbath observance 78 support of for World War II  83 and the theological currents of the 1920s and 1930s  80

tension between neo-orthodox and confessional conservatives in  84–85 and women’s ordination  90 Presbyterian Church in Ireland  129, 130. See also Presbyterians in Northern Ireland Presbyterian Church in the Republic of Korea  236, 266, 286 Presbyterian Church in Trinidad and Tobago 185 Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS) adoption of the Westminster Confession of Faith by  231 and barriers to uniting with the PCUSA  76 and communion  248 concerns of about PCUSA’s doctrinal laxity 223 debates of over evolution  78, 111 division in between progressives and conservatives 67 founding of  64, 222 foreign missions of  168, 169, 178, 182, 186, 187, 281–82, 284 and fundamentalism  111 growth of after World War II  83 and the Holy Spirit  360–61 and homosexuality  89 membership decline of  89 merger of with the UPCUSA  89, 261 and neo-orthodoxy  418 opposition of to segregation  85–86 opposition of to the Delta Ministry Project 261 opposition of to gambling  78 participation of in the Consultation on Church Union  86 reunion discussions of with the PCUSA  82 and social Christianity  67, 357 and social reform  555 as a southern denomination  73 and strict Sabbath observance  78 support of for World War II  82 and total abstinence  78 and the theological currents of the 1920s and 1930s  80 and theological liberalism  86 theological skirmishes in  78

index   611 and women’s ordination  261, 267, 272 and worship  483 Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (PCUSA)  1788–1958. See also Westminster Confession of Faith and anti-communism  556 choice of loyalty over doctrinal precision by 109 commitment of to American culture and values 65–66 and communion  248 controversy over missions in  109–10 debates over Scripture in  67 development of a denominational bureaucracy by  66 dispute over control of women’s missionary societies in  269 division between progressives and conservatives in  67 and entrusting questions of doctrinal faithfulness to presbyteries  109 foreign missions of  166, 179, 182, 186, 187, 188, 196–98, 207, 282–83, 284 and the fundamentalist-modernist controversy  74, 97, 101–107, 415 growth of after World War II  83 growth of in the first half of the nineteenth century 220 heresy trials in  66–67, 221 and the Mexican National Presbyterian Church 222 as a northern denomination  73 participation of in ecumenical endeavors 256 patriotism of members of  66 and social reform  553–56 support of for World War II  82 and the theological currents of the 1920s and 1930s  80 theological pluralism of  90 Presbyterian Church in the United States of America PC(USA) 1983-present approval of same-sex marriage by  90 and Calvinism  409 debate of over homosexuality  88, 90, 556 and Middle Eastern policy  207 and peacemaking  556

and the sanctuary movement  556 social and political agenda of  409 and social reform  556 Presbyterian Church of Africa  147, 486 Presbyterian Church of Australia  222, 266, 284, 407 Presbyterian Church of Brazil (IPB)  186, 282, 407, 412n45 Presbyterian Church of Chile (IPCh)  188 Presbyterian Church of Colombo  162 Presbyterian Church of East Africa  147, 154, 486 Presbyterian Church of Ghana  145, 148, 152, 537n12, 559–60 Presbyterian Church of Granada  185 Presbyterian Church of Guyana  192 Presbyterian Church of Honduras  181 Presbyterian Church of India  161, 407 Presbyterian Church of Ireland  134, 136, 499 Presbyterian Church of Japan  169 Presbyterian Church of Korea  179 Presbyterian Church of Malawi  146 Presbyterian Church of Malaysia  163–64 Presbyterian Church of Myanmar 162 Presbyterian Church of Nigeria  146, 486 Presbyterian Church of Pakistan  160 Presbyterian Church of South Africa 266, 486 Presbyterian Church of Taiwan  167 Presbyterian Church of Victoria  169 Presbyterian Church of Venezuela  189 Presbyterian Church of Wales  129–30, 133 Presbyterian Churchmen United  86 Presbyterian College (Montreal)  79, 84, 85 Presbyterian Convention of Sierra Leone 148 Presbyterian Evangelical Society  61 Presbyterian Hymnal (PC[USA])  484 Presbyterian Lay Committee  85, 418 Presbyterian Layman 85 Presbyterian Medical Center (Korea)  562 Presbyterian Reformed Church in Cuba  182 Presbyterian Reformed Church in the Caribbean 183 Presbyterian Society for the Promotion of Religion in the Benevolent Institutions of the City of Philadelphia  553

612   index Presbyterian Synod of Ulster  129 Presbyterian Theological Seminary (Korea) 562 Presbyterians emphasis of on ecumenism  527 emphasis of on evangelism  527 impact of on social policy  527 Presbyterians in Africa  144–55 Presbyterians in America. See also various Presbyterian denominations and education  552, 553, 555, 559–61 and government  551, 552 and institutional churches  553 and social reform  532, 551–63 and the transformation of culture  554 Presbyterians in Northern Ireland beginning of  53, 120–21 clash of with Catholics  529 discrimination against Catholics by  134 fundamentalist-modernist controversy in 112 growth of  128 impact of on colonial American Presbyterianism 54 impact of the Evangelical revival on  126 importance of theology to  52 numbers of members of  134 organization of presbyteries in  54 persecution of  121, 531–32 and political and social reform  131 response to the “Troubles” by  134 and the Westminster Confession 54–55, 123 Presbyterians for Democracy and Religious Freedom (PC[USA])  556 Presbytery of Antrim  123 Presbytery of Europe. See International Presbytery Presbytery of Kenya  147–48 Presbytery of Laggan  53, 54 Presbytery of Northern Europe  127 Presbytery of Southern Europe  127 Presence, Power, and Praise 433 Prescopalian period  120 Prevost, Julio Mallet  178 Price, George McCready  103 Priestly, Joseph  123, 297

Princeton Theological Seminary, See also Charles Hodge; John Mackay; B. B. Warfield and biblical inerrancy  74 as a center of neo-orthodoxy  468 as a center of theological conservatism  67 controversy at  79, 106–7 defense of Reformed orthodoxy by  341 and evolution  74, 103 as an example of the Presbyterian ideal in higher education  572 founding of  462 importance of  462 opposition of faculty of to revision of the Westminster Confession  353–54 reorganization of  77, 79, 108–9, 110, 112, 377 teaching of ethics at  533–34 Princeton Theology  261, 415, 458, 462–65, 467, 469 Princeton University. See also John Witherspoon curriculum of  572 founding of  57, 59, 546, 552, 570 pedagogy of  303 promotion of liberty and reason at  570–71 religious foundation of  571 religious practice at  572 support of for the American Revolution  57 Privy kirks  118–19, 138n2 Prohibition  78, 548, 554 Protestant “Assyrian” Evangelical Church of Urmia 200 Protestant Church of the Netherlands Antilles 185 Protestant Church of the Netherlands Indies 164 Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, The 527 providence  232, 303, 443 Psalter: Psalms and Canticles for Singing (PC[USA]) 484–85 Psalter-Hymnal 81 Punjab Mission  161 purgatory 11–12 Puritanism  296, 302 Puritans 297

index   613 in America  51, 254, 298, 302, 442, 551 in England  36, 44, 121, 302, 350, 402, 505n5, 551–52 in the Netherlands  34 in Scotland  118 theology of  296, 297, 302, 479 Putnam, Robert  272

Q

Qajar, Mohammad Shah  201, 202 Quaker 51 Quest for the historical Jesus  305 Quick, John  31 Qur’an. See Koran

R

Race, Alan  449 racial discrimination  87, 308, 394, 533 racial inequality. See racial discrimination racism  61, 85, 258, 308, 326, 409, 417, 519, 555 Racovian Catechism (1605)  297 Radical Reformation  12. See also Anabaptists Ramus, Peter  509–10 Rankin, Melinda  178 Rasmussen, Larry  393 rationalism  26, 123, 305, 357 Rauschenbusch, Walter  414 Rayburn, Jim  262 Rays of Light 200 “Re-imagining Conference”  90 Reagan, Ronald  207 real presence  21, 250n5, 478. See also Lord’s Supper reason 462–64 authority of  304 B. B. Warfield’s view of  467 Charles Briggs’ view of  376 Charles Hodge’s view of  464 Gilbert Tennent’s view of  512 and education  571–72 Enlightenment view of as autonomous  137, 403, 404, 444 as given by God  303 and the Holy Spirit  355 and New Light ministers in Ireland  123 view of by the Moderate party in Scotland 124

Reformed view of  299, 459, 462 as untrustworthy  353 Westminster Confession’s view of  302, 462 Red Scare  100 Redemption. See salvation Reed, William  160 Reform Act of 1832  276–77 Reformation 9–12 Christology of  334–36 confessions and catechisms of  326 and the doctrine of the church  381, 384, 387 and efforts to renew European Christianity 9 and the law  386 Luther as the leader of  12 main themes of  143–44 and missions  144 on natural theology  458–59, 462, 468 and philosophy  463, 468 and preaching  507–8 on predestination and election  402 Radical 12 on salvation  385, 393 and Scripture  372, 384–85 Scottish  23, 25, 26, 117, 125, 128 as a set of interrelated movements  10 Swiss  15, 297, 542 Reformed Church of Japan  168 Reformed orthodoxy (movement)  413, 458–61, 463, 468, 469 Reformed Pastor, The 511 Reformed pietism  427 Reformed Presbyterian Church of Colombia 187 Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America (RPCNA) and education  574 founding of  443, 573 and social reform  552, 555 Sunday school curriculum of  87 Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod 89 Reformed Presbyterians  62 Reformed Theological Seminary  86 Reformed theology  16–19 Reformed worship  19–23 regeneration. See salvation

614   index Reid, Thomas  124, 463 Reid, W. Stanford  84 Reimaging Conference  362 Relief Church  125, 126, 129 religious discrimination  134, 276 religious diversity different attitudes toward  446 and exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism 449 growing appreciation of  445, 448 increasing Presbyterian awareness of  444 Presbyterian approaches in dealing with 454 religious experience and baptism  248 and charismatic practices  360 Friedrich Schleiermacher’s view of  444 Old School-New School debate over  481 and the Popular Party in Scotland  124 Princeton Theology and  307 rich diversity of in America  1 theological liberalism and  305, 309 religious freedom in America  218, 255, 570 in Japan  168 in Puerto Rico  182 Presbyterian defense of  443 religious persecution of Jews  258 in the Middle East  196, 204, 205, 207, 256 in Scotland  45–46 in Russia  256 Remonstrant Synod of Ulster  123 Renaissance  13, 15–16 Renaissance humanism  9, 14 “Report on the Work of the Holy Spirit” (UPCUSA) 360 reprobation  232, 301, 342, 400–1, 405–7. See also election Rescissory Act (1661)  123 Restoration movements  355 Re-Thinking Missions: A Laymen’s Inquiry After One Hundred Years  77, 109, 357, 447 revivalism  427, 431, 433 revivals. See also First Great Awakening; Second Great Awakening in America  479–80, 481

in Cameroon  431 in Korea  429–30 in Northern Ireland  130 in Scotland  130 in Wales  130 Renewed Presbyterian Church  186 Richey, Russell E.  1 Riis, Andreas  145 Riley, William Bell  100 Rioseco, Pedro  182 Ritschl, Albrecht  99, 305, 340–41, 413 Ritschlian school  341, 342 Robe, James  125–26 Robertson, William  124 Rockefeller, John D. Jr.  518 Rodgers, James  165 Rogers, Jack  377 Roldán, Benjamín  189 role of women in the church  5, 77, 260, 267, 486 Roman Catholic Church advances of during the Thirty Years’ War 118 cooperation of with Protestants  259 efforts to reform  10, 12 in England  41, 44, 45, 122, 133 as a false religion  442 in France  46 in Geneva  46 in Haiti  184 hostility of to the French Reformed Church 33 impact of on Presbyterian views of Jesus 333 in Ireland  120–21, 133–34 in Latin America  177 liturgy of  477 and miracles  428 missionary activity of  100, 284 in Northern Ireland  134 position of on the Lord’s Supper  150n3, 242, 243 preaching in  20 and predestination  404 in Scotland  117, 126, 135, 136, 541, 542 view of the sacraments of  20, 21, 478 view of Scripture of  371–74

index   615 Romantic theology  403. See also Friedrich Schleiermacher Romanticism  128, 483 Ross, David  558 Ross, John  166, 168–69 Rowland, Daniel  126 Russell, Letty  393 Russian Orthodoxy  200–1 Russo-Japanese War  284 Russo-Turkish War  204 Rutherford, Samuel  118

S

“Safeguarding Social Service in the Life of the Church” (PCUSA)  554 Sabbatarianism  77, 78, 135, 553, 554 Sabbath  126, 257, 480, 530, 557 sacramental season  479–81 sacramental theology  242, 334, 488, 489 sacraments 241–49. See also baptism; Lord’s Supper as an inspiration for service  243 as instruments for mediating union with Christ 334 as mere memorials to Christ’s death  242 as occurring simultaneously on the material and spiritual levels  243 as pointers to God’s grace  242 as seals of grace  242 as signs of the salvation Christ accomplished 242 technological issues connected with  249 salvation as bringing the fulness of life  150 debates over in Scotland  306 efficacious grace in  325 by grace alone  13, 124, 143–44, 338 people’s need of  325 the Westminster Confession on  233 Samartha, Stanley  449, 453, 454 same-sex marriage  90, 135, 556 Samil Undong  169–70 sanctification  231, 233–34, 305, 350, 386, 406 sanctuary movement  556 Sang-ryun, Suh  169 Sankey, Ira D.  130 Satan  321, 336

Schaeffer, Francis  378 Schaff, Phillip  231, 233, 339, 340 Schism Act (1714)  122 Schisms  80, 110, 137, 275–87. See also Old School-New School schism; Old Side-New Side schism in Brazil  281–83 factors contributing to  276, 286 frequency of in Presbyterian history  275–76, 287n3 in Korea  223, 283–86 role of the Civil War in  281 in Scotland  276–78 Schleiermacher, Friedrich on the Bible  377 and The Christian Faith 403 on election  403 as the father of liberal theology  403 and a feeling of absolute dependence on God 338 on God-consciousness  403, 410n25 influence of  339, 342, 353 on Jesus  99, 338–39 on redemption  304, 339 on religion as based on intuition or feelings  403, 444 on sin  304, 403 and Speeches on Religion to Its Cultured Despisers 403 on spiritual experiences in non-Christian religions 444 Scholasticism  14, 296, 300–3, 306, 403, 458 Science  103–4, 327, 376, 414, 418, 464–67. See also evolution Scofield, Cyrus I.  180 Scopes “Monkey” Trial  97, 103, 108, 113n13, 554 Scotland. See also Scottish Presbyterians battles in over polity  33 foundational political concepts devised in 4 impact of Calvinism on  551 origins of Presbyterianism in  6 Presbyterian regime established in  4, 47, 118 Presbyterian social reform efforts in 557–58

616   index Scots Confession (1560) on the Bible  371, 375 on the church  375, 388 on church discipline  387 on church-state relations  540 devising of  25, 117, 230 on election  401 on the errors of creeds  390 and the establishment of Reformed theology in Scotland  25–26 on God  391 on the Holy Spirit  349–50 on Jesus  365–66 on morality  528 theology of  296 on true religion  439 Scots-Irish Presbyterians  55–56, 73, 298, 307, 350, 442, 479 Scottish Christian Social Union  558 Scottish Highlands  117, 126, 127, 132, 278 Scottish Lowlands  117, 278 Scottish Mission  147, 153 Scottish Missionary Society  184 Scottish Parliament  47, 120, 277. 278 Scottish Presbyterians distrusting of for Oliver Cromwell  119 doctrinal controversy among  131 impact on the Westminster Assembly  37 importance of the Bible to  126 missionary activities of  127 persecution of by Charles II  45, 46, 119 strict Sabbath observance of  126 Scottish Privy Council  45 Scottish realism. See common-sense realism Scottish United Presbyterian Mission  559 Scotus, John Duns  295 Seceders  62, 124–25, 129, 131 Secession Churches  125 Second Book of Discipline  26, 117, 118, 277 Second Cumberland Presbyterian Church  231 Second Disruption (1893)  278 Second Great Awakening. See also Cane Ridge; Charles Finney beginning of  197, 513–14 impact of on Presbyterian worship  497–98 and missions  197–98, 255 organizations created by  197, 220, 255 Presbyterian support of  352, 552, 553

revival methods of  220, 279–80, 513–14 Second Helvetic Confession (1566) and catholicity  296 on the church  391 on church-state relations  540 on good works  385–86 impact of  31, 42, 298 on the law and the gospel  367, 368 as part of the Book of Confessions 231 on preaching  368, 508 on Scripture  368, 371, 373 Second Vatican Council  259, 502, 505 secularism  86, 110, 447 See, I. M.  267–68 segregationists 86 Seoul Women’s College  562 Servetus, Michael  297, 334 session  3, 24, 65, 244–45, 431. See also elders Seven Years’ War  57 sexual ethics  90–91, 135, 272, 281, 420, 531, 556 “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?”  101, 376, 518 “Shall Unbelief Win?”  102, 518 Shamanism 444 Shari’a law  206 Sharp Chapel Ministries  574 Shearer, John  558 Shedd, William G. T.  340 Sheppard, William Henry  560 Shin, Dae Won  148 Shinto shrine worship  284–85, 407, 448, 562 Shintoism  284, 285, 562 Sierra Leone  148 Sikhs 445 Silva, Evandro Luiz da  190 Simonton, Ashbel Green  186, 281, 407 Simson, John  123–24 simul justus et peccator 391 sin as affecting all human actions  322 cause of  320–21 and creating a system of checks and balances in government  317 debate between New School and Old School over the nature of  59 degrees of  322

index   617 as directed against God  323 as distinguished from crime  323 faulty views of  327 neo-orthodox position on  80 original  78, 109, 321–22 pride as the essence of  325 as a product of human choice  405 as structural, not just individual  326–27 transmission of  321 universality of  321, 324 venial 322 Singapore 164 Sinn Fein  134 Sinodo Presbiteriano Boriquen  183 Six Day War  206 Six Mile Water Revival of 1625  35 slavery abolition of in Trinidad and Tobago  185 attitude of American Presbyterians toward  58–59, 552–53 church had no right to interfere with  222 defense of by Southern Presbyterians 547–48 division of New School over  63–64 division of Old School over  64 efforts to abolish in America  255 Old School position on  60 opposition of Covenanters to  62 opposition of black Presbyterians to  61 opposition of New School to  60, 531 Slessor, Mary  128 Small Council  46 Smectymnuus 36 Smiley, Sarah  267 Smit, Dirke  394 Smith, Alex G.  162 Smith, George  165 Smith, Henry Boynton  65, 339 Smith, Henry Preserved  66–67 Smith, James  189 Smith, James K. A.  434 Smith, John Rockwell  282 Smith, Ted  515 Smith, William Robertson  131 social Darwinism  533 Social Gospel  75, 308, 356, 414 participation of Presbyterians in  532, 551, 553

social media  152 social reform  551–63. See also Social Gospel; PCUSA; PCUS; UPCNA in Africa  559–61 in America  552–57 in Asia  561–63 in Canada  558–59 and the conversion of individuals  563 in Scotland  557–58 socialism 85 Society of Jesus. See Jesuits Socinianism  123, 124, 297, 334, 338 Soderblom, Nathan  258 sola fide  2, 144, 385–86 sola gratia  2, 144, 385–86 sola scriptura  2, 144, 149, 384–85, 390, 462 Solemn League and Covenant  33, 118, 119, 121, 122, 224, 542 soli Deo Gloria 2 solus Christus  2, 144 Son, Seung Ho  163 Song, Choan-Seng  259 Soong Jun University  562 Soper, Annie  187 Sophia 362 Soteriology. See salvation South Africa  127, 132, 544 South America  185–92 South Korea  562 South Sudan  452 Soviet Union  170, 284, 556 Spain 136 Spanish-American War  182 Speaking in tongues. See glossolalia Special Commission of 1925 (PCUSA)  77 special revelation  370, 459, 462 Speer, Robert  76, 105, 110, 258, 270, 447, 554–55 Spindle of Necessity  398 Spinoza, Baruch  303 spiritual but not religious movement (SBNR) 454 spirituality of the church  78, 86, 222, 357, 547–48, 555 Spring, Gardiner  64, 547 Sproul, R. C.  378, 433 Sprunger, Keith  34 Sri Lanka  161–162

618   index St. Andrews Presbyterian Church (Argentina) 190 St. Christopher’s House  558 St. Gregory the Illuminator  204 the Star 201 States General (Dutch)  34 Stelzle, Charles  257, 553 Sternhold, Thomas  496 Stevens, William  53 Stevenson, J. Ross  102, 106, 108, 259 Stewart, Lyman  76 Stewart, Milton  76 Stewart, Robert Walter  127 Still, William  136 Stoicism 398 Stone, Barton  260, 513, 514 Strachan, Henry  180 substitutionary atonement  76, 98, 279, 376 Sudan 452 Summa Theologica 13 Sunday, Billy  427, 482, 516, 548 Sung, John  162–63 supralapsarianism  232, 301, 401, 407 Surinam  177, 192 Swami Vivekananda  453 Swift, David  61 Swing, David  66, 341 Swiss Reformation  14 Switzerland  352, 551 Synan, Vincent  427 syncretism  110, 357 Synod of Dordt (1618–1619)  34, 35, 296 Synod of the National Presbyterian Church of Mexico 178 Synod of New York and New Jersey  559 Synod of Philadelphia  54, 55, 57, 61, 298 Synod of New York and Philadelphia  57, 58 Synod of Orange (529)  399 Synod of the Presbyterian Church of Brazil 281 Synod of Ulster  54 Syria  196–98, 205, 206, 444–45

T

t’Hooft, Willem Adolph Visser  259 Taejon Christian College  562 Take-Ki, Hong  285

Taft, Charles  258 Taiwan  159, 167, 170, 171, 531 Taiwan Church News 167 Taiwan Theological Seminary  167 Takatu, Yasuhiko  262 Taoism 310 Taylor, Nathaniel  53 Taylor, Nathaniel William  59, 279, 352, 405 television  152, 207, 208, 257 tell Scotland movement  135 temperance  268, 308, 530, 547, 553, 554–55, 558 Templeton, Charles  83 Ten Commandments  19, 22 Ten Theses of Berne  230 Ten Years’ Conflict  128, 277 Tennent, Gilbert attack of on the Old Side  219, 350–51, 512 as an evangelist  56, 254 on the Holy Spirit  427 as a proponent of reunion  57, 219 sermon of  69n22 Tennent, William (father)  254, 350, 427 Tennent, William (son)  254 Teresa of Avila  12 terrorism 452 Test and Corporation Acts  276 Tetrapolitan Confession (1530)  230 Tetzel, Johann  11 Tewksbury, Donald  569 Thailand 162–63 Theological Declaration of Korean Christians 563 theological liberalism. See also fundamentalist-modernist controversy and accommodation of Christianity to modernity  74, 465 Christology of  340–41, 344 and contemporary Presbyterianism 413, 421 and God’s immanence  74 and God’s transcendence  407 main themes of  74–75 and Presbyterian preaching  518 promotion of the Social Gospel by  75 and sin  407 theosis 336

index   619 Thirty Years’ War  118 Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion  120, 230, 231, 402, 403 Thomas, W. H. Griffith  101 Thomasius, Gottfried  340 Thompson, John  218, 351 Thompson, Nell  516 Thompson, William  224 Thomson, John  55 Thornwell, James Henley  59, 221–22, 407, 547 Tillich, Paul  359 Tin, Tay Sek  164 Tiridates, King  204 Toleration Act 1689  122 tong sung kido prayer  486 Torrance, Thomas F. Christology of  339, 340, 342–43 influence of Karl Barth on  309, 418 on natural theology  468, 469 promotion of neo-orthodoxy by  136 Torrey, William  189 tota scriptura 385–86 total depravity  279, 322, 352, 385 Towner, Margaret  265, 517 Traill, William  53 Transvaal 544 Travers, Walter  34 Treasury of Merits  12 Trinidad and Tobago  185 Trinity. See also God as taught in the Bible  373 use of masculine, feminine, or genderneutral terms for  147 Trinity College Dublin  46 Trinity Theological College, Singapore  164 triplex munus 387 Troelstch, Ernst  413, 444 Trumbull, David  188 Tulloch, John  136 Turkey  198, 199, 205, 207, 208 Turretin, Francis Christology of  337 on church councils  373 defense of God’s existence by  460 influence of  17, 46, 127, 410n17 on natural theology  459 on predestination  407

on providence  404 on the use of philosophy by theologians  460 Tylor, Edward B.  444

U

Uemura, Tamaki  271 Ukraine 136 Ulster. See Presbyterians in Northern Ireland Ulster Unionist Party  134 underground church  35, 36, 45, 119, 196 underground railroad  61, 255 Underwood, Horace G.  169 Underwood, Judson L.  183 Undong, Samil  169, 170 unio personalis  337, n27 345 Union Christian College (Soong Sil College) 562 union churches  170, 262, 286, 453, 499 Union Theological Seminary, New York  67, 75, 98, 108, 111 Union Theological Seminary, Richmond  81 Unitarianism  123, 127, 297, 303, 304 United Church of Canada  65, 78–79, 86, 222, 286, 499–500, 534 “United Declaration of Christian Faith and Social Service” (PCUSA, PCUS, UPCNA, and ARPC)  554 United East Asia Company  159 United Free Church (Scotland) continuation of by a small number of congregations 133 founding of  132 merging of with the Church of Scotland  133, 543 and ministerial subscription  131 and social reform  558 United Presbyterian Church (Brazil)  186 United Presbyterian Church (Scotland)  127–28, 129, 132 United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA) commitment of to racial justice of  76–77 concerns of about PCUSA’s doctrinal laxity 223 and deaconesses  268 description of  73 and foreign missions  76, 166, 198, 206

620   index United Presbyterian Church of North America (UPCNA)(Continued) founding of  76 and hymn singing by  78, 81 and lack of doctrinal controversy in the 1920s 112 merger of with the PCUSA  83 and social reform of  77, 552, 555 and the Westminster Confession  78 United Presbyterian Church in the United States of America (UPCUSA) 1958–1983 adoption of a Book of Confessions by  84, 408, 416 adoption of the Confession of 1967 by  84, 359, 408, 416 and the charismatic movement  360, 432–33 and civil rights  87, 519, 556 and controversy over Angela Davis  87 and foreign missions  83–84 formation of  83, 89, 261, 408, 484, 519 and the Holy Spirit  360 and homosexuality  89 membership decline of  89 mission of  408 and neo-orthodoxy  85, 91 and reunion with the PCUS  89, 261 and social reform  556, 560–61 theology of  408 and women’s ordination  87 United Presbyterian Church of Pakistan  160 United Presbyterian Church of Vietnam  170 United Reformed Church  133 United Secession Church  125, 129 Uniting Church of Australia  222 universalism  306, 406 University of Lapsley and Sheppard  560 University of Tulsa  574 urbanization  74, 142, 307, 375, 557–58 Urmia 198–204 Ursinus, Zacharius  367 Uruguay 191–92 Ussher, James  35, 121–22

V

Van Dusen, Henry P.  83, 258, 358, 359, 426 Van Dyke, Henry  106, 406, 484

Van Til, Cornelius  419, 467, 469 Vance, James I  67 Venerable Company of Pastors, the  24 Venezuela 188–89 Vermigli, Peter Martyr  367 Veto Act (1834)  128, 277 Victoria, queen of Britain  128 Vietnam 170 Vietnam War  418 Villegaignon, Nicholas Durand de  186 visible church  234, 254, 275 vocation  91, 319 emphasized by Presbyterians  3, 298, 391, 527 Volta River valley  153 Voodoo 184 Vos, Geerhardus  87, 108, 109, 366

W

Waddell, William A.  282 Waldensian Church  127 Walls, Andrew  141, 151, 156n1 Walzer, Michael  527 Wanamaker, John  553 Ware, Henry  59 Warfield, Benjamin B. on apologetics  467 on biblical inspiration  67, 74, 307, 353, 376, 406 on Christ’s incarnation  341 and common-sense realism  463 contribution of to The Fundamentals 76 education of  376 on evolution  74, 465 on faith  354 on the Holy Spirt  349, 353–54, 427 on proofs for God’s existence  464 on the revision of the Westminster Confession  75, 355, 406 on sin  469 support of cessationism by  355, 428 on theology  97 and women in ministry  268 Warrington Academy  123 Watson, David  350 Watson, Thomas  558 Weber, Max  527 Weir, Ben  207

index   621 Welch Calvinistic Methodist Church  128, 129, 159 Welch, John  350 Welch, Josias  350 Welker, Michael  394 Welsh, John  428 Wesley, John  56, 355, 403 Wesleyan quadrilateral  530, 535 West, Charles  534 West India Mission  161 Westerkamp, Marilyn  56, 350 Western Foreign Mission Society. See Foreign Missionary Board Westminster Assembly  36–44 and the Directory for the Public Worship of God 496 importance of the work of  119, 297–98, 508 influence of European Reformed churches on 30–31 role of Presbyterians in  528 Westminster Confession of Faith adopted by the Scottish Parliament as standard for Church of Scotland  508 and the ARPC  88 and the Auburn Affirmation  105 as a basis for the reunion of the Old School and the New School  65 on the Bible  370, 371, 372–73 and the Church of Scotland  119, 132–33, 136, 230 on church-state relations  4, 540, 541, 546 and colonial American Presbyterianism  55 covenantal framework of  301 current Presbyterian attitudes toward subscription to  312 debate over adherence to between Old and New School Presbyterians  220–21 debate over subscription to in America 55–56 on the doctrine of the church  254 on election  402–3 and the Enlightenment  123 and the EPC  88 on the errors of church councils  390 on ethics  528–29 on faith  234 and the Free Church of Scotland to  132, 135

on freedom of conscience  302 on glorifying and enjoying God  326 and Guatemalan Presbyterians  180 on the Holy Spirit  350 and Irish Presbyterians  123, 135 and Korean Presbyterians  284, 285 loyalty of Princeton Theological Seminary to 108 modifications of  235–36 on natural theology  461–62 on non-Christian religions  442 and Northern Ireland Presbyterians 54–55, 129 objections of Cumberland Presbyterian Church to  231, 404 and the PCA  86–87 and the PCC  78 and the PCUS  86, 357 and the PCUSA  66, 75, 98, 99, 218–19, 230–31, 260, 415 PCUSA revision of in 1903  355, 406 perspective of Marrow Men toward  305 position of Andover Seminary graduates on 58 on preaching  369, 508–10 on providence  232 reasons for nonsubscription to  303 on religious liberty  570 role of in shaping Presbyterianism  2, 9, 22–23, 29, 31–32, 52, 117, 230, 275, 298, 442, 461 and Scottish Presbyterians  54, 123–24, 127, 131, 137, 307 and the Seceders  125 as the sole theological standard for some Presbyterian denominations  326 as a summary of Reformed theology  298 and the Ten Commandments  528–29 as a theological basis for social engagement 535 theology of  231–35 and the UPCNA  78 and the Welch Methodist Church  129 Westminster Directory for Public Worship of God (1645)  496–99 adoption of by Church of Scotland  43 approval of by the British Parliament  478

622   index Westminster Directory for Public Worship of God (Continued) on the biblical grounding of sermons  510 creation of by the Westminster Assembly  23, 230 and the didactic purpose of sermons  510 on liturgy and pastoral procedure  298 and qualifications for ministers  509 on preaching from biblical texts  509 revision of by the ARCNA and PCUSA 480 on the structure of sermons  509–10 on the use of language in sermons  510 on the virtues of preaching  520 widespread use of  504 Westminster Longer Catechism. See Westminster Confession of Faith Westminster orthodoxy  413, 416, 421 Westminster Shorter Catechism. See Westminster Confession of Faith Westminster Standards. See Westminster Confession of Faith. Westminster Theological Seminary  77, 79, 86, 109, 110, 112, 415, 467 Whitaker, Robert  432 White, John  132, 135 Whitefield, George as a Calvinist  125–26, 427 as an evangelist  56, 125–26, 254 impact of  351 preaching of  254, 511–12, 571 on predestination and election  404 reputation of  56 Wigtown Martyrs  119 William of Ockham  295 William of Orange  46, 120, 121, 529, 541, 543 Willis, E. David  335 Wilmore, Gayraud  325 Wilson Leprosy Center and Rehabilitation Hospital 561–62 Wilson, John  53 Wilson, Margaret  119 Wilson, Robert Dick  106 Wilson, Thomas  53 Wilson, Woodrow  202, 548 Winsborough, Hallie  269 Wishart, George  428

witchcraft 150 Witherspoon, John  57–58, 463, 530, 546, 552, 571 Wolfe, Alan  577 Wolff, Christian  303 Womanist theology  312 Women’s Boards of Home Missions and Foreign Missions (PCUSA)  77 Women’s Executive Committee (PCUSA)  267 women’s ordination  265–72 connection of with social liberalism, abortion, and sexuality  272 controversy over  434 Cumberland Presbyterians and  75 in Korean Presbyterian denominations 486 EPC and  88, 91 OPC and  90 PCC and  85, 91 PCUS and  85 PCUSA and  77, 85, 87, 265 statistics on  265 Women’s Training College  559 Woodrow, James  78 Woosley, Laura Layman  267, 517 Worchester Association  121–22 Worchester House Declaration  122 Work of the Holy Spirit, The (UPCUSA)  432 works righteousness  385–86 The World Alliance of the Reformed Churches Holding the Presbyterian System founding of  130, 256–57 humanitarian projects of  532, 534 moving of headquarters of from Edinburgh to Geneva  136 report of on Jewish-Christian relations  451 substantial contribution of Presbyterians to 4 World Communion of Reformed Churches (WCRC)  180, 182, 184, 185, 187, 188, 259, 266 World Council of Churches (WCC) criticism of by evangelicals and Presbyterian conservatives  81, 82, 84, 134, 249 founding of  258, 259 and gender inequality in the church  271

index   623 participation of African Presbyterians in  154 participation of Latin American Presbyterians in  178, 182, 180, 185, 187 participation in as a source of schism in Korea  170, 286 Presbyterian participation in the founding of  83, 84 on the sacraments  249, n4 250 substantial contribution of Presbyterians to  4, 84, 382 World Evangelical Alliance  261 World Presbyterian Alliance  82 World Reformed Fellowship (WRF)  154, 178, 179, 186, 187 world religions  439–54 World Vision  262 World War I  309, 341–42 World War II  80, 82, 83, 562 World’s Christian Fundamentals Association 100 World’s Parliament of Religions (1893)  445–46, 532 worship 477–90 balance between form and freedom in 499 and church architecture and decoration  498 confession of sin and pardon in  477–78 and contemporary Christian music  487 debate over the use of service books in 488 and the devotion of participants  480 and the dinner church movement  490 and a greater missional focus  489 and healing  485 at home as families  480 importance of preaching in  477, 480, 484, 498 intellectual rigor and religious experience in 481 and the lectionary  484 and liturgy  480, 483–84, 499 and multiculturalism  489–90 new practices in  490 pastoral leadership in  479, 480 prayer in  478, 480 presence of Christ in  477 and the priesthood of all believers  477

and the PC(USA) Book of Occasional Services 485 and the regulative principle  487, 505n5 role of the laity in  479 sacramental theology and practice in  488 and the sacraments  478, 484 and seeker services  487 and the shift toward effectual practices 498 singing in  480, 484 of slaves  481–82 styles of  10 theological foundation for  477, 486 use of the Apostles’ Creed in  478 use of the Lord’s Prayer in  478, 480 use of vernacular languages in  477–78 use of visual aids and technology in 486, 488 and women, gays, and lesbians in leadership roles  487 The Worshipbook (UPCUSA)  83, 484, 502–3 Wright, Theodore  61, 517, 531 Wycliffe, John  10

Y

Yale College  59, 220, 571 YMCA  166, 355 Yoder, Don  256 Young Life  262 Young Turks  205

Z

Zionists 206 Zirinsky, Michael  203 Zoroastrians  198, 201 Zulus 544 Zurich  14–15, 334 Zwingli, Ulrich on baptism  242, 494 Christology of  334 on the divine covenant  301 on the Lord’s Supper of  14–15, 242, 349 liturgy of  22 on Scripture  385 theology of  295 on worship  488 Zwingli’s 67 Articles  230