· Others, often of a more liberal persuasion, will remind us that it is the duty of the church to serve the world as it is rather than as we would like it to be. This means accommodating ourselves to modern culture even if that seems at times to go against the grain.[38] After all, did Jesus not associate with publicans and sinners?
The choice between these two unhelpfully polarised positions is difficult and troubling and many people find themselves pulled in two directions. And does the Bible not give us any guidance? Well, the Bible gives us much guidance on many issues but equally there are issues on which it speaks equivocally or less clearly.
As people of the western world, most of us are brought up to believe that there can only be one true answer for any particular problem or situation. But life is not always as simple as that. Nor can we turn to the Bible as though it were merely a collection of proof texts. In the Reformed and Presbyterian tradition, we do seem to forget at times that orthodox Christianity sees God as triune and that the third person of the Trinity is the Holy Spirit.
We are promised in the Acts of the Apostles that the followers of Jesus will have the guidance of the Holy Spirit. Very often this promise seems to be entirely forgotten. In the western world, our religious observance is highly cognitive and propositional, sometimes even coldly rational. Traditionally, in Protestantism what people do matters a great deal less than what they may think. There is little or no room for the more mystical or numinous aspects of the faith which we tend to dismiss as “Catholic” but which probably would have been very evident in the early church. We tend to forget that the New Testament church did not actually have the New Testament.
Because the Reformed faith takes its stand on Scripture, there is often little perceived room for manoeuvre. Unfortunately, the actual interpretations of Scripture can become very fixed and people get hung up on what they believe Scripture teaches rather than read what it actually says. We are also all guilty of quoting the parts of Scripture that are in line with what we already think and believe. The Bible, in fact, often paints with quite a broad brush.
Historically, the situation was not made easier in Scotland by our adoption in 1647 of the Westminster Confession of Faith. This famous document is in essence an English Puritan work. It is only fair and right to point out that there was significant Scottish input, even though the Scots were not invited to be members of the Westminster Assembly. The Confession is by any standards a remarkable document. It contains 33 chapters. Topics covered range from the status and interpretation of Holy Scripture to the Last Judgment. Apart from occasional flights of language, its general style is turgid, dull and hopelessly out of date for the twentieth century. The propositional statements are fortified by Scripture proofs, some of which seem to have only a vague and passing relationship to the topic under consideration.
The Confession sets forth a theological system of particular limited atonement, sometimes known as double predestination. Put at its most simplistic, this suggests that just as God has predestined some for salvation, so logically he must have predestined others for damnation. The great problem with the Confession is that it wants to dot the “i’s” and cross the “t’s” of problem areas in a way that Scripture itself does not do. The Bible does contain loose ends and sometimes appears to offer conflicting solutions to the same issue. It is a natural human tendency to seek for certainty. Yet, almost since it was first published, the Westminster Confession has caused division and dissension in the church in Scotland.
In the Church of Scotland, we recognise the Confession as the chief subordinate standard, i.e. subordinate to Scripture. Also we allow a conscience clause, granting liberty of opinion on such matters as do not enter into the substance of the faith. What is meant by “substance” is, and has been, an area of considerable debate. In the more conservative Presbyterian traditions [39] such as the Free Church and the Free Presbyterian Church, there is no conscience clause. The outsider could be forgiven if he gains the impression that in these traditions, the principal standard is the Confession and the subordinate standard is the Bible.
In Scotland, the Reformation of the church in the sixteenth century was the most radical in Europe. Whilst it did not bring in a perfect church, it brought in a freedom of thought that had not existed under the Catholicism of the day. However, when it came to the next century, not all that took place could be classed as progress. Certainly, in my view, this adoption of the Westminster Confession was (given the wisdom and benefit of hindsight) an unfortunate step that led to a degree of inflexibility and intolerance that can still be seen to this day.
It should certainly not be thought that those who fretted under the constraints of the Confession were all liberals or moderates. In fact, such eminently orthodox figures as the Erskines and Dr John Brown of Broughton Place struggled with its inflexible strictures and uncompromising double predestination. The Moderates tended to keep their heads down. Whilst they signed the Confession like all other ministers of the time, in practice they simply sat lightly to it. Perhaps they were the wiser for so doing.
In the latter part of the nineteenth century the unease continued, especially in the United Presbyterian Church which was the first Presbyterian tradition in Scotland to have the honesty to introduce a “conscience clause” into its ordination vows. A conscience clause, of course, is a form of compromise and fudge and yet it seems to work, even if it does not completely please anyone far less everyone. The Christian church has been living with compromise and fudge since its earliest days and has managed not only to survive but to grow.
Few Presbyteries south of the Great Glen would be at all likely to bring a charge of heresy against any minister or elder in the 1970s. In spite of the fudge, it is remarkable just how much unity and peace there is throughout the Church of Scotland.[40] However strange and illogical the status quo may seem to outsiders it does generally seem to work in a broadly based national church that includes a very wide range of beliefs and perceptions. This is both the strength and weakness of the Church of Scotland and invites ridicule and hostile comment from the more conservative Presbyterian traditions that never miss an opportunity to indicate the lack of logic in such a position.
Reformed theologians point out that our God is a God of order and not of disorder. He is not going to say one thing to us in Spirit-inspired Scripture and then say something different in a personal revelation, is he? This again assumes again, and following our western way of thinking, that truth consists of only one proposition and that there is always a very clear boundary line between right and wrong, truth and falsehood. Life, however, to say nothing of theology, is not always quite
so straightforward.
In the earlier 1970s, Kirk Sessions and Presbyteries were given the opportunity to discuss the possibility of the Kirk discarding the Westminster Confession as the subordinate standard and substituting the ordination preamble for ministers and elders with a short statement of faith, with which no conscience clause would be associated. Evangelicals and theological radicals generally raised their hands in horror and, as unlikely bedfellows, united in voting against the proposal for very different reasons. The radicals wanted to keep the fudge of the conscience clause and feared the orthodoxy of the new statement. The evangelicals were unable in general to think outside the familiar and were unwilling to let go of the comfort blanket of the Confession, even though the new proposals undoubtedly brought a greater element of doctrinal certainty.
The proposals went back to the Panel on Doctrine who then came up with an even less satisfactory proposal. They produced a very similar brief statement of belief which, this time round, did include a conscience clause. In fact, Presbyteries, apart from those in the Highlands and Islands, generally voted in favour of this new arrangement subject to a somewhat vague undertaking that a new statement of faith would be issued at some time in the future. Anyone with any knowledge or experience of the Church of Scotland should know better than to trust in such statements of future intentions!
When the issue came before the General Assembly, it was clear that there was a major rift growing between the commissioners and that the Assembly might be almost exactly divided. Rev Andrew Heron, Clerk to the Presbytery of Glasgow, sensed the divisiveness of the proposal and moved that the Assembly depart from the matter. With an almost audible sign of relief, that is what the Assembly did, although with a small majority.
So, the status quo was maintained after a great many hours of discussion and soul searching. The Westminster Confession remains the chief subordinate standard, subject to the conscience clause. The evangelicals by and large were jubilant and some of them even offered up prayers of thanksgiving. What they failed to see (and some still fail to see) is that in a complex modern society such as ours the Westminster Confession, great historical document that it undoubtedly is, has little or no relevance to the man in the street. They also failed to understand the resentment that might be caused within the Kirk by trying to use the Confession as though it was some kind of legal test.
When it comes to guidance, we have in our hands the Holy Bible. We have the great Creeds and Confessions of the Church, both ancient and modern. We have some two thousand years of scholarship and tradition. We have the words of prayer on our lips and the promised guidance of the Holy Spirit. What more than that do we need? Or are evangelicals afraid of too much freedom?
The Christian Gospel is all about forgiveness and reconciliation. In Jesus Christ, walls of hostility and misunderstanding are broken down. The world is reasonably entitled to assume that the Christian community should be experts when it comes to conflict resolution. Alas, that does not always seem to be the case and the church has a woeful history of internal persecution, separation and division.
One error of perception that is shared by people both inside and outside the visible church is that “church” generally means a building. Whilst it may be a dreadful cliché, the quip that the “true church is what is left after the building has burned down” does have a real ring of truth to it! [41]
Very often the church building will be a nineteenth century structure, with touches of mock gothic. Usually there will be a drab and peeling notice board outside, giving information about service times and contact details of minister and main office office-bearers. Often such information appears in a tombstone gothic script. Sometimes there will be other notices, such as assurances of welcome and intimations of coffee mornings and daffodil teas (often out of date). All of these are signs of a sub-culture, comforting to those who are part of it and strangely off-putting to outsiders.
Inside, in most traditional Presbyterian churches, the pulpit will be central, often high and lifted up. (In fairness, this was generally to ensure that everyone in the building could see and hear the minister.) Pews will be set in serried rows. In an increasing number of churches, pews have been removed and replaced by chairs (often set in rows, rather like the pews). In some cases this has greatly improved the comfort and flexibility of the main seating area. In other cases, modern plastic chairs have proved less comfortable and no more flexible than the traditional pews. Even with the abolition of seat rents there is always the fear for visitors that they will sit in “somebody’s” seat.
The service will focus mainly on the words of the robed minister, who will do most, if not all, of the speaking. As well as prayers and Scripture readings, there may be a children’s address which, depending on the speaker may be more interesting to the adults than to the children. Indeed, the adults may find it more interesting (and entertaining) than the sermon. Ministers are well aware that the days of the great oratorical preachers are long past and do not attempt to emulate them. Many ministers adopt a “lucky dip” attitude to sermons, keeping an eye on the newspapers or thumbing through the Bible for a promising text on which to hang a few ideas. As always, much will probably depend on the congregation’s perception of the minister’s personality as to how well his message is received.
Many sermons follow a predictable pattern, possibly along the following lines:
· Eye catching introduction (usually with text)
· Background factual information setting introduction in context
· Touch of humour
· Touch of urgency
· Challenging conclusion
Hymns are generally sung reasonably well, led by the small and ageing choir. Many of the hymns are Victorian, with the occasional self-conscious “modern” piece added for the “young people” who do not seem to greatly appreciate this inclusion, judging by their considerable absence from services.
If you were to talk to many of the regular attenders, you might find a common theme: people feel (1) that there are great gaps in their knowledge about the faith and (2) there is little real opportunity for people to discuss the very real issues that are thrown up by having (or not having) a robust faith. More will be said on this issue later.[42]
Ancillary accommodation will vary greatly in comfort and quality. Very often, church halls will be underused, often depressing in appearance. Generally, the hall will be the poor relation of the main sanctuary, furnished with uncomfortable stacking chairs and decorated with a few faded posters of the Sea of Galilee and surplus ill matched pictures harvested from successive jumble sales. It is unusual, for example, for a church to have a comfortable lounge.[43] All this seems far removed from the days of television, in which we gather so much information from the screen.[44]
Let us return briefly to what has already been suggested: in times of difficulty, the church generally, perhaps even unconsciously, feels it has a choice of going in one of two ways.
1. It must modernise and communicate more effectively with the modern world
2. It must clarify and tighten its doctrine. It is crucial that people know what we stand for.
In fact, these two are not necessarily co-exclusive but, to state the obvious, they can mean very different things to different people. The first proposition would seem to lie most comfortably with those who call themselves “liberals”.[45] They generally believe that people will be more attracted to the church if some of the edges are blurred and the message more inclusive and less restrictive. Much time could be (and has been) wasted on theological nit-picking [46] which is pointless and unhelpful.
Traditionally, there has been a division between liberals (or moderates) and evangelicals since the eighteenth century. In the nineteenth century, many of the evangelicals “went out” in 1843 to form the Free Church of Scotland. However, it is certainly not correct to say that all of the evangelical ministers and elders went out in 1843.
In the later 1960s and into the 1970s there has been a considerable increase in the number of younger evangelical men coming into ministry and generally (but not universally) playing their full part in the wider work of the Church of Scotland. What will be the full outcome of this is still not entirely clear, although it is an interesting development.[47] The evangelicals certainly were perceived as a party within the Kirk in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. They regarded with suspicion by the more moralising moderates as being somewhat too “enthusiastic”. However, by modern standards many of the moderates would, today, seem quite conservative.
I confess to feeling more than a little uncomfortable with perpetuating these divisions. All of our congregations carry a considerable cross section of views and outlooks. The great strength of the Kirk (which conversely its critics would see as its major weakness) is that it has been able to hold many people together. In effect, the Kirk is a coalition.[48] Its individual congregations today will often reflect their past traditions (and ministers).
I have visited congregations of the Church of Scotland which are quite “high” church (some of them influenced by the Catholic Apostolic Church of over a hundred years ago). I have also visited congregations which are indistinguishable from their Free Church neighbours, singing only Psalms and standing for prayer; and I was in a congregation recently which uses Redemptions Songs for their evening praise and where the service had more than a touch of the revival meeting about it. Yet all of these fellowships were proud to be part of the Church of Scotland. I see this as strength; others, like our relentless (and sometimes ungenerous) critics in the Free Church, perceive it as weakness.
The crucial factors that bind these unlikely bedfellows together in a coalition is their shared belief in the lordship of Jesus Christ and their love of the inclusiveness of the National Church.
However, I make no apology for the fact that I come from the mainstream evangelical tradition of the Church of Scotland. That does not imply that I know all the answers and that I am always right. At the end of the day God alone is truth and we are untruth. We are all unworthy servants. Nor do I subscribe to the unhelpful view that because someone takes a more liberal view of Scripture than I would, then it follows that he is not a “prop