Special meetings of the General Synod

The second part of the synodical plan that the General Synod Council decided without ever consulting the church is to call a special session of the General Synod in October. The section in question is this:

The president of the General Synod shall call a special session of the synod at a place determined by the president, vice president, and the general secretary of the synod upon the joint application of three ministers and three elders from each of the regional synods, all of them serving currently as accredited delegates to the General Synod

Book of Church Order, 1.IV.4.2

The General Synod Council has determined to make a novel reading of this, arguing that this only covers when a special session is required to be called, though the possibility remains open for the option for a special session to be called. Because, as they argue, the church order is silent on discretionary special sessions, the non-profit law of New York allows for it, they argue that the General Synod Council is authorized to call for a special session, particularly for something like this.

This is a peculiar reading for a few reasons. First, this is making a significant argument from silence. But it’s not exactly from silence, because other parts of the church order might offer insight into this in a contextual reading of the order.

Regarding the consistory:

The president shall call special meetings of the consistory when they are deemed necessary and shall do so promptly when requested by at least three members of the consistory.

Book of Church Order, 1.I.4.6

Furthermore, the classis:

The president of classis shall call a special session of classis whenever special business requires it or upon the written request of two classis members and two elder delegates

Book of Church Order, 1.II.4.2

However, the language regarding calling special sessions changes when we get to the synodical bodies.

For the regional synod:

The president of the regional synod shall call a special session of the synod upon receipt of a written request of one minister and one elder delegate from each of the classes within its bounds.

Book of Church Order, 1.III.4.2

and finally, for the General Synod:

The president of the General Synod shall call a special session of the synod at a place determined by the president, vice president and the general secretary of the synod upon the joint application of three ministers and three elders from each of the regional synods, all of them serving currently as accredited delegates to the General Synod.

Book of Church Order, 1.IV.4.2

One may of course say that the language for the consistory or the classis does not matter here, although when you read the church order contextually, with the understanding that the church order is a unit, a whole, and that there is a logic to it, reading contextually is an important apsect. One may also say that the same latitude for the president to call a special session of the synods when it is “deemed necessary” or when “special business requires it” is implied because that is allowed for the consistory and classis, and so in order to maintain the similarity between all the assemblies, that carries the implication that it is possible, even though it is not provided for. One may also argue that the church order only specifies when a special session must be called, but leaves open the possibility for when one may be called. However, all of these arguments are, I think, tenuous at best, particularly when we look theologically and historically at this question.

Theological Perspective

Synods are of a different essence than consistory or even classis.

while the synods were necessary for the good order of the church, they did not constitute its essence. Reformed churches could— and did—exist without a national synod. Reformed people understood that Christ constituted his church through Word and Spirit. That happened as the living Word, Christ, called his people around pulpit and Table. The synods existed, then, as the bene esse, for the good of the church, but not as the esse, the essence of the church.

Allan J. Janssen, Constitutional Theology, 2nd edition (Grand Rapids, Mich: Reformed Church Press, 2019), pp. 215-216.

A synod, then, is not just a bigger version of a classis or a consistory. As I have written before (and repeat to anyone who will listen), the church is the most church when it gathers around pulpit, table, and font and each broader ring is church in a more derivative form. The synods are bodies without permanent memberships, and so it is questionable how a synod can be church in any meaningful sense of the term when it is not an ongoing locus of Word and sacrament.

Indeed, this is the reason why minsters who are “installed as a pastor of
a local church shall be a member of that church by virtue of installation.” and why “A minister not installed as a pastor shall become a member of a local church” (BCO 1.II.15.6). Ministers are members of the classis, however, they also have a sense of membership in the local church. Practically, this is a challenging or odd thing, but the reality is, it recognizes that ministers, too, find themselves within the church as the church gathers around pulpit, table, and font.

Because of this difference in essence between the consistory and classis on one hand, and the synods on the other, I find it difficult to so easily gloss over the differences in the order. It should, at least, give us pause. Indeed, the order offers the possibility for “if needed” optional special sessions as well as when they are called for by the requisite number from the body. I, at least, find it peculiar that this does not provide for this for the synods since it explicitly does so for two assemblies, and does not for two others.

The language for the consistory, “when they are deemed necessary” is the most broad and most permissive of the languages. In a way, this makes great sense. The consistory is where the church meets life. The local church is the most essential part of the church and it is where ministry, or at least the vast majority of it, happens. Because of the innumerable amount of things that a consistory would have to deal with, it makes sense that a special session could be called whenever it is “deemed necessary.”

The langauge for the classis is quite broad, but a bit more restrictive, “whenever special business requires it.” The word “requires” adds a sense of need rather than desire. The order does not specify what special business would have to be required. However, earlier church orders give an indication as to what type of business is in view.

It shall be the duty of the president of the Classis to call its members together by circular letter when a special meeting of the Classis is made necessary for an examination, an approval of a call, an ordination, and installation, or any other special business.”

Church order 1916, Article VII, Sec. 91.

Here we can see the list given is things that are necessary, and things that the classis must do and that only the classis can do. These are things that cannot wait for a stated session if they come between sessions. And the “any other special business” is clarified through “necessary” and things that are similarly necessary to those given in the list.

We have two words here, “necessary” used previously, and “required” used in the current church order. And so while the order allows for special sessions to be called for apart from the requisite number of members/delegates to apply for one, it is still restricted by what is “required.” However, when at least two ministers and two elders request a special session, one must be called, regardless of the reason. This allows the body to have control over this, as well.

However, when we get to the synods, we have neither the very broad discretion of the consistory, nor the more limited discretion of the classis, but we have the complete absence of discretionary special sessions, and the church order only provides for special sessions when they are called for by the requisite number of delegates. Coincidentially (or intentionally), this reflects the esse/bene esse distinction between the assemblies. While some may argue that this is an oversight, it is an oversight that has existed since the General Synod allowed for special sessions in 1800. It is hard for me to believe that a difference in language that has existed so long and with so many revisions, even global revisions, of the church order is simply an oversight.

Furthermore, there is also the matter of the fact that the synods, and in particular, the General Synod, covers a much greater geographic area with a variety of interests, concerns, views, and the like. It is easier for a president of a consistory to determine what is desired matter for a special session, it is even easier for the president of a classis to determine when a special session is required, but it is very difficult for the president of a regional synod or the General Synod to determine what matters are (a) both necessary, and (b) of a concern for the whole church. Indeed, this, I think, is why for the synods, the only provision in the church order for calling a special session is for the requisite number of delegates to apply for it.

It would be a daunting and expensive task to gather a special session of a national body. Special circumstances, however, may require the synod to meet in an extraordinary session. The order recognizes the extraordinary nature of such sessions by constructing imposing conditions for their call. Three ministers and three elders from each synod would, at the present time, mean that at least 48 delegates request a special session. And since each synod must provide six signatures, the need would encompass the entire variety of the church’s life. Thus no one theological or ecclesiastical commitment would be capable of engineering a special session.

Janssen, p. 229.

Historical Perspective

In the latter half of the eighteenth century, when the newly independent Reformed Church was beginning its organization, special sessions of General Synod were not uncommon. The Explanatory Articles of 1792 allowed for the General Synod to “make regulations from time to time, for calling an extraordinary session” (Art. 55) and the first two General Synods under the newly (at that time) adopted Constitution (1794 and 1797), the Synod determined the time that it would once again convene, but also gave permission to the President to call a special session if needed between the stated sessions, which, at the time, was three years.

In 1800, the General Synod passed a resolution,

Resolved, That if circumstances should require a meeting of the General Synod previous to the next Ordinary Meeting, the President be, and he is hereby authorized, on a joint application of six or more ministers requesting the same, to call an Extraordinary meeting…”

MGS 1800, p. 312.

This was the first time there was a standing rule for special sessions, and it is clear, even from the beginning, that the president alone is not authorized to call a special session, but must receive an application of six or more ministers. This was codified into the church order of 1833 (Chapter II, Article V, Sec. 5 [MGS Oct 1832, p. 127]).

Even in extraordinary times, this joint application was required. The session of 1803, for instance, decided to adjourn to October. Meeting in October was not possible, and the synod re-convened in May of 1804. At the beginning of the Acts of that special session we read the introduction to the meeting,

“having been prevented by the interposition of Divine Providence for holding the session in October last, according to their adjournment at Poughkeepsie, a competent number of ministers concurred to request the President to call a meeting of Synod, and the present meeting was duly called…

MGS, May 1804, p. 322.

It didn’t take long for the requirements to call a special session move from six ministers to six ministers and six elders. The church order of 1833 provides for special sessions,

If circumstances should require a meeting of the General Synod previous to the next ordinary meeting, the President shall, on a joint application of six Ministers and six Elders requesting the same, call an extraordinary meeting…”

Church order 1833, Art. 85 in Corwin’s Digest.

The language is worth paying attention to. “If circumstances should require…” allows for a contingency, “if.” That is, if there is something that requires a special session, then the President shall call for one on a joint application with six ministers and six elders. There is no provision for a special session apart from the joint application of the requisite number of elders and deacons. This language of this section of the church order remained virtually unchanged for decades. Though at the beginning of the twentieth century as the Reformed Church grew, so did the requisite number of people, it was increased at the beginning of the twentieth century to twelve ministers and twelve elders until 1960 when the current requirement of three ministers and three elders from each particular/regional synod who are currently serving as accredited delegates to the General Synod was incorporated into the order.

The matter of special sessions, then, has a pretty straightforward line from 1800 to today, and even though there have been changes, the biggest change, of course, in 1960 when the requirement was changed from just a number of elders and ministers to a number of elders and ministers from each particular synod who are currently accredited delegates to the General Synod.

David D. Demarest, however, regarded this provision in the church order as so clear, that in his commentary, Notes on the Constitution of the Reformed (Dutch) Church in America, he writes, “An explanation of this section is not necessary.”* David Demarest’s son and eminent Reformed Church polity teacher and commentator, William H.S. Demarest, who authored a little green-covered volume of the same title as his father, did not offer much detail on the special sessions of General Synod, particularly because they had fallen into disuse by the time that he was writing,

A special session of the General Synod is rarely called, has not been called in many years. It was held occasionally in the past years when the church was more compact, the synod much smaller, for the election of a theological professor.

William H.S. Demarest, Notes on the Constitution of the Reformed Church in America (New Brunswick, N.J.: New Brunswick Theological Seminary, 1928), p. 143.

However, his note reveals something important. That special sessions were typically called when a theological professor needed to be elected. In the early generations, the General Synod elected all of the professors to the seminary. And so the entire faculty were Professors of Theology. Therefore, when a professor resigned or died suddenly, a replacement was needed and that could not wait until the next ordinary session, and so often a special session was called.

In surveying a number of special sessions from the nineteenth century (a list which I will not claim to be exhaustive), I looked at nearly twenty§ special sessions, of which a handful were adjourned sessions, that is, the General Synod, at its ordinary meeting decided to reconvene at a later time. Of those that were not adjourned sessions, the majority were to elect professors, and a minority were to do other things such as handle disciplinary matters. In terms of the method that was employed to call them, the adjourned sessions do not require any special method to their calling since the General Synod itself decides to do this. Of those that were not adjourned sessions, approximately three did not give indications as to the method of their calling, but the remainder began with some form of, “The President laid before the synod a constitutional request which he had received to call an extra meeting of the Synod.” Here, we can see the phrase “constitutional request” which I cannot understand as anything but an application by the requisite number of elders and ministers as provided for in the constitution.

Therefore, in nearly every instance that I was able to find, the indication is that the special session was called in the method specified by the church order.

But what about the General Synod Council?

One distinct difference between today’s Reformed Church and the Reformed Church in the times of special sessions is the presence of an executive committee of the General Synod. The administration’s argument is that because the New York Non-Profit Corporate Law allows for the board of directors to call a special session, the General Synod Council is empowered to do so. However, this does not mean that in previous years there was no board of directors. Indeed, there had to be after the General Synod was incorporated in 1819. The Board of Direction of the Corporation (though the name changed somewhat over the years) was the board of directors. In 1970, the then-separate Board of Direction was folded into the General Synod Executive Committee, by replacing members of the Board of Direction with GSEC members when their terms expired.

If, then, the board of directors was authorized to call a special session, this, too, would have been possible in previous years, as well. However, what we see, instead, is that in almost every instance when a special session was not an adjourned session type special session, that an application was made by the requisite number of ministers and elders to call such a session rather than the president calling one at his (and at the time they were all his) discretion, nor the board of direction calling one.

Why does this matter?

The General Synod has, as its charge, the interests and concerns of the whole church. A special session, then, should also be in the interest and concern of the whole church. The question of whether this special session in October is necessary is a bit open to subjectivity. However, it is clearly not required. The conditions given for calling a special session serve as a bar, and a rather low one, to be honest, to determine whether it is a concern of the whole church or a special interest within the church. If a special session in October truly is the concern of the whole church, then there should not be any problem with actually meeting the relatively low bar given in the order. If the concern of the General Synod Council is that the requirements cannot be met, the question remains of whether it is truly a matter of urgent concern of the whole church.

As with the previous concern, the question is not just what is allowed, but what is best for the church? Does the breadth of the church want to discuss the report of the 2020 Task Force in a brief and focused and emotionally intense special session, in isolation from the other work of the church, seeing only a narrow and grossly incomplete view of the work and life of the church, and in a session that cannot amend the constitution (propose or adopt) or the bylaws of the General Synod (propose or adopt)? This is a question that the church could and should wrestle with. However, again, the General Synod Council has taken it upon themselves to make unilateral decisions depriving the church of actually wrestling with these things, and has taken yet another controlling force over the General Synod, rather than being accountable to the General Synod.


Notes:

*David D. Demarest, Notes on the Constitution of the Reformed (Dutch) Church in America (New Brunswick, N.J.: J. Heidingsfeld’s Press, 1896), p. 137.

† MGS 1970, pp. 183-184.

Book of Church Order, p. 75, sec 2a; 3.I.11.

§ 1804, 1815, Jan 1823, Feb 1823, 1825, 1826, 1828, 1831, 1832, 1840, Sept 1841, Oct 1841, 1849, 1855, 1857, 1867, 1871, 1881.

Canceling sessions of the General Synod: Lessons from 1933

In light of the COVID-19 pandemic, communication came from the Stated Clerk of the General Synod that the 2020 session will be “postponed” until 2021, but that a special session will be called in October. The examples of 1933 and 1935 were cited as years in which there was no General Synod, which, as we will see, is not quite correct. While the question of a special session will be addressed in a subsequent post, this post looks at the 1933 example (as it cannot be cited as precedent) to see what lessons we can learn about 1933, how it compares and contrasts to today, and if simply not holding a stated session of the General Synod in June of 2020 is even possible.

There are two things that are important to name at the outset. First, not holding a normal General Synod in June of 2020 is the wise course of action. Second, I understand that the General Synod Council and the executive staff are doing the best that they can to try to navigate these waters. I’m not trying to be problematic here, but I do think there are serious issues at stake in these decisions, and it is not simply a matter of checking boxes. After all, the church order is a theological document, it is not an instruction manual.


Before we get into the substance of this post, I think that it is worth considering why this matters. As I wrote in the previous post, the rules are not the most important thing in church polity. The rules are important, yes, but there is so much more to the discipline of church polity than that, and a church order is not simply a rule book or an instruction manual. These topics matter not because of some abstract sense of right process, they matter because church polity has to do with the shape of the body of Christ, and it is a foundational part of our covenantal life together as the body of Christ. Deviations from the church order are not just a matter of fudging abstract rules, deviations from the church order are a violation of our life together as the body of Christ. This is not to say that deviations cannot happen, but, as we saw in the previous post, we need to be very careful with them, and we need to be honest about them. It is because of this, that church polity is a matter of the shape of our covenantal life together as the body of Christ, that I think these things are more than just matters of transgressing laws, but rather are matters of violating covenant and harming relationships.


First, is the question of whether a session of the General Synod can simply be skipped.

The General Synod shall meet annually at such time and place as shall have been determined at its previous session.

Book of Church Order, 1.IV.4.1

It is important to take note of the word “shall” here. Shall is a prescriptive word rather than a permissive word. Shall describes an obligation. The General Synod must meet at the time and place as the previous session determined. At the time of the adjournment of the 2019 General Synod, it was the clear understanding to everyone that the next stated session of the General Synod would be June 11-16, 2020 on the campus of Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa (MGS 2019, p. 39). Any surface-level reading of the church order obligates the General Synod to be called to order on June 11, 2020 on the campus of Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa. There is no possible way for this to not happen.

However, this is far more than just a legalistic obsession over rules, this is a deeply significant matter. It ensures that the body is able to stay in control of its meetings, that is, what if the President just decided not to convene the General Synod? Would it be impossible for the Synod to gather? This obligation is important because it ensures that when the Synod, itself, says that it is going to reconvene, it reconvenes. No one other than the General Synod is able to amend that. These are unprecedented times, that is true, and certainly, some flexibility is understood. However, there was no clear declaration that this is something that the GSC is not able to do, and that it should never happen again, which may give the impression that the GSC now has the ability to cancel sessions of the General Synod.

But What about 1933?

1933 and 1935 are cited as examples where regular sessions were not held. For our purposes here, I will focus on 1933 as that was the pioneering example of when this was done.

1933 was in the midst of the Great Depression. There were serious concerns about the financial situation of the the country and also the denomination. A possibility of omitting the 1933 session of the General Synod was considered because of the economic turmoil. What began as an idea became a discussion.

In March 1933, an informal discussion happened at the Reformed Church House on 22nd Street in New York City. Two possibilities came out of this discussion. The first was a reduced delegation to the General Synod, namely half the delegates as normal; and the second was to omit the session of the General Synod. The call for an adjustment came from both east and west, and that “[t]o omit a synod is indeed ‘A new and untrod path,’ attended with some difficulties, but it can possibly be done if such is the positive and clear mind of the church.”* This informal discussion included “officers of the General Synod, officers of the Boards, a group of Stated Clerks, and groups of other ministers, also laymen, and it has found virtually complete favor.”†

However, even with this gathering of people, a decision was not made, indeed, a decision could not be made, as such a decision was contrary to the Constitution of the Reformed Church. The memo from Ingram continues, “It is recognized that this action is entirely beyond the Constitution, is, in fact, contrary thereto. But if two-thirds of the Classes approve in advance, that action pledges their good faith to such necessary acts of ratification as may later be found necessary.”* Here we see a critical piece of the 1933 puzzle: asking for classical approval. As the General Synod was obligated to meet in June of 1933, the only conceivable way to do this would be for the classes to approve such a measure, and it was determined that not only a majority of classes would be needed, but a two-thirds majority to ensure that it is the “clear mind of the Church.”* We can see here that they knew that what they were undertaking was anomalous and unchartered territory, and yet sought to find creative ways for it to not just be possible, but for it to be done well as possible.

As such, the President of the General Synod, Edward Dawson, sent a letter to the stated clerks of the classes on March 28, 1933 proposing a plan and asking for the classes to consider this and take an action related to the proposal.

The proposal that was described is important to note.

The procedure proposed is that each Classis nominate its delegates as usual for appointment by the Particular Synod [n.b. at this time, delegates to the General Synod were nominated by the classes but formally accredited by the particular synods]; that there be agreement by the Classis and the delegates that the delegates not be in attendance at the General Synod; that the call for the session of the Synod be issued as usual; that, at the appointed time and place, the President and Stated Clerk (or, preferably the Vice-President and Permanent Clerk, since the place is Grand Rapids) meet and, in the absence of a quorum, adjourn to the stated time for the next meeting, 1934. It is believed that every requirement of the Constitution will be thus met.Ӡ

Finally, it was noted that “[i]t will be understood that the plan does not go into effect unless there be a prevailing vote in favor of it by the Classes.” The letter requested that the classes not only vote on the plan, but as part of that, to agree to not send their delegates to General Synod.† Indeed, it allowed for the classes to exercise their right of delegation, even if that exercise is to not send them.

A close look at this reveals several things:

  1. The Classes are to make the decision by a super-majority in favor.
  2. Delegates will still be named and accredited
  3. The call to meeting will still be issued
  4. The Synod will be opened by the President or Vice-President at the appropriate time and place.
  5. Since the classes agreed to not actually send their delegates there will not be a quorum
  6. In the absence of a quorum the meeting will be adjourned until 1934.

Above I noted that it is not quite accurate to say that there was not a General Synod in 1933, there was such a session. There are minutes of the 1933 session of the General Synod.

What About 1935?

I focused primarily on 1933 since this was the year that first considered such an extraordinary possibility. The General Synod of 1934 decided that because of the “continuing unfavorable circumstances, the session of 1935 be, in effect, omitted…”‡ This question was again put to the classes, and in the statement read by the President of the General Synod at the pro forma session in 1935, the vote of the classes was “almost unanimous” to not meet§ and so again held a pro forma session at the appointed time and place, and minutes of the 1935 session are also available.

So can the 1933 or 1935 General Synod be used as a precedent?

Despite the fact that precedent does not exist in the Reformed Church, there are clear and important differences between the way it was handled in the 1930s and today.

First, the question in the 1930s was put to the classes, whereas today, it was decided simply by the General Synod Council. It is true there is a distinct difference in that now, often, classes cannot meet to transact business. But even if a formal vote of the classes is not possible, the classes could still be engaged in a meaningful way, even without a formal vote as with 1933. The problem is not that it cannot do things exactly the same way, it is that the leadership did not even attempt to give the illusion of propriety. Instead, the General Synod Council has taken it upon themselves to make a decision that they are not authorized to make. This is also not simply a formality. Apart from nonpayment of assessments (3.I.1.1) there is no possible way for for accredited delegates to not be seated. Classical delegation at the General Synod is a right, not a privilege. A very practical reason to consult the classes is to ensure that they are in agreement with the plan, since there is no possible way for the officers nor the General Synod Council to restrict the classical right of delegation at a session of the General Synod. As has been shown above, General Synod is obligated to be called into session on June 11, 2020, on the campus of Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa and unless the sending bodies agree to exercise their right to not send delegates, delegates have a right (except as noted in 3.I.1.1) to be seated at the General Synod.

Second, there were, in fact, General Synods held in 1933 and 1935. The sessions were without a quorum, they lasted only a brief time, but they were legally called to order and adjourned. This fulfills the obligation for the General Synod to be held at the place and time as determined at the previous session.

So what does this all mean?

In short, this means that it is possible to not hold a normal General Synod in 2020, but the way that is currently proposed is not only unconstitutional on many fronts, but there is also absolutely no mitigation of church order deviations, and this is all without any acknowledgment by the denominational leadership as such. To be honest, much of what happens at all levels of the church is not strictly “normal,” whatever normal means, but there is no acknowledgment that this is a departure from the Constitution and that this plan is not okay. In 1933, there was an acknowledgment that what they were doing was not clearly within the confines of the Constitution. But now, we try to present a facade of propriety when we are doing things that are grossly improper.

However, lest this all seem like some kind of church order fundamentalism, there are important issues at stake. The General Synod is the assembly, not the General Synod Council. The General Synod Council does not become the General Synod when the General Synod is not in session. It is the executive committee and the program committee of the General Synod and is accountable to the General Synod. In no way, shape, or form, is it given the powers of the General Synod. The General Synod makes the decision, not the General Synod Council. Absent the General Synod, communicating with classes is the only way to proceed to ensure that the whole church is consulted. The General Synod Council does not represent the church in any way, shape, or form. It is the executive committee of an assembly, and that is very different. It is true that many classes cannot meet and so cannot take formal votes, but there are many ways to engage the classes, and the General Synod Council has not even tried.

In a letter from the Stated Clerk of the General Synod (22 April 2020), it was acknowledged that the General Synod Council knew about the ways in which the church was able to exercise their rights and join in making the decision in the 1930s, as well as the attempts in the 1930s to follow, as best they were able, the constitution, but that they chose to not attempt a similar path at the present time. It is entirely true that the process that was followed in the 1930s was not entirely in accordance with the Constitution. However, they were honest about that fact, acknowledged it, sought to mitigate the harm as a result of it, and they sought, honestly and in good faith, to engage the breadth of the church in this consideration. Furthermore, and this is what is especially missing now, they were not concerned only with what was legal, but what was right and good for the church. There are times in which the choice is between two bad choices, and this is one of those times, but the path chosen now is incredibly perilous.

Currently, the General Synod Council has invented the idea that they have the authority to, unilaterally, cancel a session of the General Synod that is required to be called, and has removed the right of classical representation at that General Synod.

The question before us is not how do we not deviate from the church order, the times require us to do so. Instead, the question before us is how do we deviate most faithfully, with the smallest impact, with the least amount of fallout. If we pay attention to Coertzen’s conditions for deviating from the church order, there are serious questions about the way and the method with which we are addressing constitutional deviations, and the way that we are handling will likely not be without consequences down the road if we do not seek to reduce the deviations and mitigate harm caused by them.

If the General Synod Council can decide to cancel a session of the General Synod, then are we creating something that will improperly be cited as precedent later (after all, it seems that if it ever happened once before it is somehow precedent)? If the General Synod Council can decide to cancel sessions of the General Synod, this puts the General Synod at the mercy of its executive committee, and under the control. At such a point, the General Synod ceases to exist in any meaningful way.

Again, I sincerely believe that the denominational administration and the General Synod Council are trying to do what is in the best interest of the church. However, the problem is that this path opens up a number of questions, such as the degree of honesty or forthrightness from the General Synod Council or the General Secretary, as well as whether this will be cited as precedent for something similar later. Nor is this to say that the process from the 1930s has to be followed. They made that up, and there is no rule book for how these things work. That was not precedent, it was, however, an example fro which we ought to learn. However, a more meaningful engagement with the church would be a crucial aspect to any decision like this. What we are experiencing here is not a whole church trying to figure out how to navigate this together. Instead, we have an overly powerful executive committee who declined to consult the church and making unilateral decisions. The choice here is not between this or holding General Synod in June. The choice is between not holding a General Synod in a way that has great potential to be harmful to the church, or doing it in a way that has the potential to be less harmful to the church.

To sum: the General Synod Council, on its own, canceling a session of the General Synod is unconstitutional and pretending that it is okay or not clearly and publicly acknowledging the fact that it is profoundly wrong is unconscionable. Often, the choice is between degrees of bad choices. The current choice is easier but is immensely problematic.

At stake here is more than simply following the rules, and what is at stake here is the trustworthiness and honesty of the General Synod Council and the denominational communications. If we cannot even pretend to follow the clear rules that we have all agreed to follow, and if we cannot find a healthy way for broad participation in the decision to deviate, and if we cannot even be honest about our deviation, this brings up a host of questions regarding denominational integrity.


Notes:

*Memo from John A. Ingham, Memorandum for Stated Clerks and Other Ministers Meeting at 25 East 22nd Street, Monday March 20, 1933 at 10:30 am

†Letter from General Synod President Edward Dawson, March 28, 1933. It should also be noted that this was before the reorganization of the denominational staff and offices, and so the officers of the boards were not directly accountable to the Stated Clerk of the General Synod, as is now the case. Today, such a discussion with the senior staff would be largely meaningless as they are directly and solely accountable to the Stated Clerk (General Secretary) of the General Synod.

‡MGS 1934, pp. 846, 851.

§MGS 1935, p. 3

The church order in non-normal times

People who are interested in church polity often do not have the best reputations. Often we are understood or assumed to be legalistic, always trying to force rules on situations that deviate from the ideal or the norm, always causing a burden for the church by insisting that particular hoops are jumped through. And, to be honest, at times, this reputation is not unearned. However, the church order does not prevent ministry, but facilitates it. In fact, sometimes it facilitates ministry by putting boundaries and limitations on certain things. But church polity is not about the rules, certainly the rules have an importance, but if we only think that church polity is about enforcing rules, the entire point is missed. The “why” is just as important, even more, than the “what.”

The church order is not a code of laws but a theological document.

Often, people are quite surprised when I admit that I, a teacher and researcher specializing in church polity, often don’t care all that much for the rules. The rules are important, yes, but they are not the end but rather the way that we live out the theology which underlies it. When we see the church order solely as a rule book, of course it becomes a burden, and then we think that anyone who points to the church order becomes sand in the gears. I don’t care about the rules because they are rules, I care about what is in the church order because of the rich theology that embodies and that teaches those who will listen.

I can’t imagine that a surgeon likes their job because they enjoy cutting people open, nor does a pastor or teacher like their job simply because they like talking in front of people. The study of church polity is a rich and meaningful one for those who are open to it. For those who just see it as a rule book or instruction manual, it becomes sterile, dry, stale, legalistic, problematic.

In this time of a global pandemic it is entirely true that most things do not fit with the world that the church order imagines. However, as a pastor myself, I can clearly say that most of ministry and life in the church does not fit the world that the church order imagines. Indeed, people are unpredictable, and the church order cannot imagine every possible eventuality, and so the order seeks to help give our ecclesiology flesh with some structure and some regulation, not to produce a ready-made body, but to give a basic skeleton, on which muscle and fat and organs and tendons and ligaments and skin and all of the rest are hung in order to make a living body.

And in many ways, these times are unprecedented. But in other ways, much of church polity work is not just knowing what is in the book, anyone can do that, it is understanding what is in the book, and why, and then use all of that and try to apply it in the most faithful way possible.

I have deviated from the church order. Always intentionally, always knowing what I was doing, always knowing that there was no other way, always attempting to mitigate any problems with such deviation, and always working consistently with the theology that underlies the church order. The point about church order is not that one can never deviate from it, but that one must be very careful when doing so. Very few things, if anything, works “according to the book,” and so this revelation should not be that shocking. However, what this requires is a deep understanding of church polity and the theology which underlies it.

Building on the work of D. Nauta and G Pienaar, the South African church polity scholar Pieter Coertzen listed “strict conditions” under which one may, very carefully, deviate from the church order:

-they must be exceptional circumstances that make it absolutely essential
-the deviation must be as limited as possible
-the deviation must be acknowledged with a clear understanding that it does not create a precedent for further deviations
-the reason for the deviation must lie in the welfare of the church and not all kinds of personal considerations
-the interests of other churches or even that of the whole denomination must not be harmed as a result of the deviation
-the deviation must be communicated to the denomination concerned as quickly as possible in order to obtain their consent for the deviation.

Pieter Cortzen, Church and Order: A Reformed Perspective (Leuven: Peeters, 1998), p. 59.

Here, we can see the reality that deviation is possible under certain conditions, as the church order serves the church and not the other way around. This helps us find our way between two dangers: the first danger is that the church order is infallible and immutable, the other danger is that the church order is filled with guidelines that can be neglected and discarded when deemed expedient. The norm, however, is that “[w]hen a church decides on a particular order, they owe it to one another, as members of the body of Christ, to respect this order” (Coertzen, p. 58).

The church order in times of crisis

In times of crisis, it is sometimes necessary to do non-normative things, particularly in terms of the church order. There are times in which deviation from the order is necessary. Something can be wrong and necessary at the same time. What is essential, however, is being honest and forthright about what is happening.

These times are not normal. Though to be honest, very few times are anything that could be considered “normal.” And it precisely these times when more communication and greater consensus is needed as we approach possible deviations from the order.

Of Classes and Congressional Districts

There has been a good deal of discussion lately in some segments of the Reformed Church in America over concerns about a supposed “disproportionate representation” stemming from the reality that classes are different sizes (in terms of both numbers of churches and size of churches) but they each register a single vote on constitutional amendments. This claim usually originates from the classes with more confessing members in their bounds who, blinded by their own hubris, assume that their greater numbers convey greater rights in the church of Christ. There are a number of fundamental errors in this line of thought, but the one that I will discuss here is the error that assumes that a disparity in classical composition is is a deviation from Reformed polity and a problem.

A Brief History Lesson

It almost seems as if those who decry the existence of small classes seem to think that there was some mythical time of representative democratic idealism when all classes were the same size. However, such a time is just that, mythical. It has never been that way. It was never intended or designed to be that way. Never was a uniform numerical size of classis in terms of either the number of churches or the number of members ever expected or imposed.

For instance, during the time when over 80% of the classes approved federal union with the German Reformed Church (but the union was not effected in favor of the comparably small minority), the Classis of New York had over 3500 families on the rolls and the Classis of Holland had not quite 1300, and yet, the Classis of Holland was able to register the same number of votes as the Classis of New York on the matter of Federal Union.

Of Congressional Districts

The main concern about the proportionality of representation comes from the way that the United States draws voting districts. While there are civil rights considerations to take into account, the main criteria for voting districts is that they contain the same number of people. The reason for this is simple, voting districts exist for one thing and one thing alone: to elect representatives. Such a proportionality is important so that residents in the state have an equal chance at representation as other residents in the state. Voting districts exist for no other purpose.

The problem is when we take this secular legal logic and apply it to the church. While the governance structure of the church appears to reflect the secular governmental structure of the United States, appearances are certainly deceiving.

Of Classes

When times of division and hostility arise, concerns of power are always at the forefront. For some it is the concern of how others will use power against them to harm them and their communities. For others, it is how they might accumulate enough power to bend everyone else to their will. When the system breaks down (as it is now, not because the engine is faulty but because sand has been thrown into the crankcase) an inordinate of attention is given to voting, and we assume that classes function like congressional districts.

But if you look in the church order at a responsibility of the classis, you see incredibly few references to the items that are of central concern here (synodical delegations and approving classical amendments). Instead, classes exist for a very different function.

Classes exist to provide for the episcopal function in the church. Classes exist to oversee the churches and ministers in their bounds. It provides for accountability to something greater than ourselves, it symbolizes our connection to the broader church, not just spiritual but also tangible. It reminds us that we are not our own but that we belong to Christ, and by extension, to the body of Christ which includes our local church but extends beyond it.

Classes exist to ensure good order in the churches and classes are the ecclesiastical home of ministers. Classes oversee the calling of a minister, the installation of a minister, and the dissolution of pastoral relationships. Classes handle difficulties between ministers and churches, and classes help ensure that the consistory governs their church in good order.

It is for all of these reasons and more that the classis is the central unit in Reformed order. And it is this reason why classes register votes on constitutional amendments and why classes send delegates to synods. Historically, each classis sent the same number of delegates to the General Synod, though in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries delegations were apportioned based, first on number of churches, but then on the number of confessing members within the classical boundaries. Such a development was a misstep, but this is the situation that we have inherited.

Classes are not congressional voting districts. Are there classes that may be too small or too big? Most definitely. But the measure of this is the ability for the classis to fulfill its responsibilities, and the number of confessing members within its bounds is not a determining factor in this. To argue that classes need to be the same size is to simply see them as voting districts. Such arguments have nothing to do with the “spiritual order” by which the church is governed (See Belgic Confession, Art. 30) and everything to do with modern cultural assumptions of fairness, something which is foreign a gospel in which grace and mercy (things which are inherently unfair) are the foundation.

Descriptivism, Prescriptivism and the Church Order

In lingusitics, there is an ever-present tension between prescriptivism and descriptivism. Briefly (but not comprehensively), prescriptivism holds that grammar rules and usage should be prescribed, that is, there is a more or less stable and normative set of rules. According to prescriptivists, language is stable. Descriptivism allows for change and adaptation. Dictionaries, grammar, and usage are not a single monolith but ought to be adapted to reflect the way that language is used. The former sees a dictionary, for instance, to prescribe the words used in a language, and the latter sees it as something to describe the words used in a language. Prescriptivists insist that “irregardless” is not a word; whereas descriptivists accept it as a word because it is widely used.

I simply bring up this tension–descriptivism and prescriptivism–because it is not only something in linguistics, but it also occurs in the field of church polity, though we often do not use these terms.

Does a church order prescribe how a church ought to live its life, or does it describe how a church does live its life? Is a church order a stable monolith, or is it something which ought to be easily changeable to reflect how things are lived out in the church?

This is certainly not a new debate, and I am not the first to write about it. Indeed, Daniel Meeter describes a similar tension when he makes the excellent, and as yet tragically unheeded, proposal to separate the church order into Constitution and Canons (though I might say “regulations” instead of “canons”). Constitution would be those things which are essential to the church’s being, and canons would be those things which are helpful to live out that essential being as described in the constitution*. Indeed, this is, largely, drawn from the church order of the Protestant Church in the Netherlands that has a church order (constitution) of some thirteen pages but a much longer section of regulations which are nonessential which help the church to live out its essential nature as expressed in the church order proper.

The foundation that the church is governed by offices is very different from, as Meeter notes, the fact that a candidate must be under care for twenty-four months before a Certificate of Fitness for Ministry may be granted (BCO, 1.II.11.3). The former is an essential (of the essence) aspect of how we understand the church, while the latter is a regulation that the church has found to be helpful but could amend with little consequence. Whether it is twenty-seven months or twenty months is neither here nor there.

Moreover, the question of whether the church order ought to prescribe or describe is not easily answered, nor has it only been treated in one manner throughout history.

A via media

As with most other things, the Reformed find a via media–a middle way–between these two extremes. And this is further complicated by the fact that, as noted above, the church order contains points of vastly different importance. Thus, some things in the order are prescriptive and some are descriptive. Some impact the essential nature of the church and some are largely inconsequential. The difficulty, of course, is discerning which regulations are which.

Indeed, the fact that there is a provision for amendments shows that it is not entirely prescriptive. But the fact that it is a constitution, that is, it lays out what constitutes the church and that constitutional changes require two general synods and a supermajority of classes shows that a church order is not entirely descriptive, either.

The difficult work, and the work so rarely engaged, is to discern what in the order is prescriptive and what is descriptive, or to put it in Meeter’s framework, what is constitution, and what is canon?

This work ought to be the foundation of any attempt to amend the church order, not because it should not be amended, but because we must understand the ramifications of what we are doing. The Reformed have always understood that all of the offices are required, and therefore all of the offices must be present for the fullness of Christ’s ministry to be represented (BCO, Preamble, p. 3).

A Case Study

The Reformed Church in America dates its beginning to 1628. This, however, is not the date when Reformed ministry began here, it began earlier than that. This is the date of the arrival of the first minister, Jonas Michaëlius. However, it is not a minister that constitutes a church, but once a minister arrived, a consistory was completed. There were already elders and deacons here, but no minister. But the arrival of a minister completed the consistory, the fullness of Christ’s ministry was now represented to the people, and a church could be organized.

With the recent changes to the commissioned pastor designation, both attempted and accomplished, about which I’ve written previously (here and here), we have redefined how we understand a church.  Previously, where there was no installed minister in a church, a minister of the classis acted as supervisor and was, among other things, present at consistory meetings to complete a consistory, to ensure that all the offices are present. However, in 2014/2015 a change was effected which would allow a commissioned pastor (an elder) to serve as supervisor of a consistory. And thus we have instances where a church is missing one of the offices of the church, and where, as we affirm, the fullness of Christ’s ministry is not present.

What was done in 2014/2015 was to change how we understand a church. Now, this is a perfectly fine thing to do. It is possible for us to change how we understand what constitutes a church. But this was not the discussion that happened. This was a prime instance of not doing the work to determine what is constitution and what is canon, what is more prescriptive and what is more descriptive.

Ongoing struggles over accomplishing an end

Currently, the Reformed Church is in the midst of ongoing struggles on many levels, and one of those levels is how we understand the existence of the church. One faction within the communion desires an end, lockstep uniformity on understandings of human sexuality, despite the fact that many of them have a wide diversity on matters of the covenant and the effectual call of grace.

However, the order that exists in the Reformed Church, and the order how it has existed since the Reformation, resists such a move. However, rather than understanding that perhaps there is some prescriptive piece in the order that teaches us something about the nature of the church, the church order is simply seen as a code of laws that ought to simply allow to be done what the “majority” wants to accomplish. As the South African church polity scholar, Pieter Coertzen, notes, “just as bad as making the church order an authority equal to that of the Scriptures is treating it as something imposed by certain members onto others, or as something that one can find loopholes in with a certain amount of ingenuity.”

And because there is no distinction present in the order which shows a difference between those things which are prescriptive and those that are descriptive, it leaves it up to popular opinion to determine which is which, and often a popular opinion which is driven to see a particular end rather than trying to find a right means.

This is the reason why the General Synod of 2017 made an illegal pronouncement when it tried to declare, in a way almost suggesting doctrines of ex-cathedra infallibility, a definitive interpretation of the Heidelberg Catechism. It was assumed that the General Synod’s inability to make definitive doctrinal declarations on its own was a weakness because the assumption prevailed that the end was righteous and so any means that prevents the end is wicked. Additionally, there has been an increasing number of classes, and there are rumors of more in order to gain a political advantage for the particular faction so as to be able to control the classical approval process of constitutional amendments. When a church order is wholly descriptive, then any and all measures are justifiable.

A church order is not theologically neutral

Indeed, just because we want something to be so doesn’t make it right, and it doesn’t mean that it ought to be done. A church order is not simply a code of laws, but it forms part of the constitution–that which constitutes the church. 

In that the church is a theological entity and not simply a sociological one, in that the church is a creatura verbi, we cannot simply believe that tinkering with her constitution is an exercise in theological neutrality. Indeed, if we do not do the work of determining what is essence and what is regulation, we risk altering the very foundations of how we believe God desires the church to be. In such a case, everyone loses–especially the witness of Christ in the world. 

 

 

 

 


References:

*Meeter, Daniel J. Meeting Each Other in Doctrine, Liturgy, and Government. Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993. (see pp. 178-184).

Kerkorde Van De Protestantse Kerk in Nederland: Inclusief De Ordinanties, Overgangsbepalingen En Generale Regelingen (bijgewerkt Tot Mei 2013). Zoetermeer: Boekencentrum, 2013.

Coertzen, Pieter. Church and Order: A Reformed Perspective. Leuven: Peeters, 1998, p. 50.

BCO – The Book of Church Order of the Reformed Church in America.

Reformed Church General Synod 2017: Deacons in Broader Assemblies

This is part of a series of posts about the items and topics before the General Synod 2017

Other posts in this series:
Commissioned Pastors, Part 1: Foundations
Commissioned Pastors, Part 2: Recommendations before General Synod
Overtures on Declarative Authority

***

While human sexuality will be the topic on everyone’s mind (even if it is not the majority of the business before the General Synod), there are many other topics which are of great significance for not only the functioning of the church, but also how for how the church understands itself.  The Report of the Task Force on Diaconal Ministries is one of those such areas which is far less divisive or emotionally charged but is quite significant. This is contained on pages 76-85 of the General Synod Workbook.

Background

Deacons are members of the consistory of the local church and participate in the governance and oversight of the local church. However, this is, currently, the extent of their participation in the government of the church. All of the broader assemblies, classical and synodical, are composed solely of ministers and elders. The reason for this will be discussed below, but there has been a renewal of the movement, as of late, to provide for deacon participation in broader assemblies. If we are striving to renew a focus on mission, then why, the question goes, do we exclude the deacon, which is the office charged with (what is often thought to be) the most missional ministry? (See MGS 2007, pp.88-103).

While the General Synod in 2007 did not approve recommendations to bring deacons into the classical and synodical assemblies, they did request the Commission on Theology “to prepare a study on whether there is a theological basis within a reformed and missional ecclesiology for the inclusion of deacons as full members of classes, regional synods, and the General Synod…”(MGS 2007, pp. 102-103). The Commission brought a paper to the 2011 General Synod (pp. 289-304). In 2015, the General Synod authorized the creation of a task force to bring recommendations to the General Synod regarding diaconal ministries and assemblies (MGS 2015, p. 242). The report in the workbook this year is the work fo this task force.

The Ministry of the Deacon

To begin the discussion, we must consider the unique ministry with which the office of deacon is charged.

The office of deacon is once of servanthood and service representing Christ through the action of the Holy Spirit. In the local church deacons are chosen members of spiritual commitment, exemplary life, compassionate spirit, and sound judgement, who are set apart for a ministry of mercy, service, and outreach. They are to receive the contributions of the congregation and to distribute them under the direction of the consistory. The deacons give particular attention and care to the whole benevolence program of the church. They have charge of all gits contributed for the benefit of the poor and distribute them with discretion. They visit and comfort those in maerial need and perform such other duties as the consistory may assign them. (BCO, 2016, 1.I.1.10). 

Whereas elders are “set apart for a ministry of watchful and responsible care for all matters relating to the welfare and good order of the church” (BCO, 2016, 1.I.1.8), Deacons are charged with a ministry of “mercy, service, and outreach.” One might say that the elders are charged with care over the household of faith, whereas deacons are charged with care for the greater community. This is a bit of an oversimplification, but one can see that when elders, deacons, and ministers serve together, the “fullness of Christ’s ministry” (BCO, 2016, Preamble, p. 3) is present.

The history of diaconal membership on the consistory is interesting, as well. The church order of Dort (1619) mandated the office of deacon, however, the consistory was made up of ministers and elders. The Articles of Dort did allow for deacons to be members of the consistory “where the numbers of Elders is too small” (Art. 38). However, as the church order of 1833 observes, the deacons have always been joined to the consistory “in America, where the congregations were at first very small…” (Art 50). And so the Reformed Church is somewhat unique in the universal practice of membership of deacons on the consistory.

The understanding of the role of the deacon, however, has been somewhat problematic throughout history. In my own experience, deacons were treated as “junior elders.” In the church in which I grew up people would often serve a couple of terms as a deacon and then they could “progress” to elder. This experience is not unique to me but is a common experience. So in practice, deacons are often reduced to “junior elders” as well as the people who collect and count the money. Therefore, the lived understanding of the ministry of the deacon is often tragically shallow.

Equality of the Ministry

A common argument for including deacons in the broader assemblies is that of the equality of the ministry, often called “parity of office.” This principle, in many ways, is an ecclesiastical Rorschach. It is used as a basis for a multitude of things. So, then, let us look at what the Constitution says about this historic and foundational principle.

The Reformed Church in America uses the term “parity” to describe the concept of the equality of ministers. It is not meant that authority can never be exercised by one over another. But in every instance this authority will be delegated by the proper body, and the authority will cease to be exercised when the need for it is no longer demanded. The principle of equality pertains also among churches, among elders, and among deacons. The principle of the equality of the ministry, conceived now in its broadest sense as including the functions of the elder and the deacon, is based upon the fact that the entire ministerial or pastoral office is summed up in Jesus Christ himself in such a way that he is, in a sense, the only one holding that office. Every ministerial function is found preeminently in him. By his Holy Spirit he distributes these functions among those whom he calls to serve in his name. (BCO, 2016, Preamble, pp. 4-5). 

There is, of course, a great deal condensed in this paragraph. The essence of this principle is as old as the Reformed. At least as far back as the Synod of Emden in 1571 this principle was the very first article, “No church shall lord over another church; no minister of the Word over another minister, no elder over another elder, neither any deacon over another…”* The essence of this is the rejection of hierarchy. There are no cathedrals (more important churches) nor are there bishops (more important clerics). The purpose of this principle is to talk about equality in standing, not lack of distinctness in ministry.

This principle does not intend to say that there are no distinctions between the offices, or that there are no particular ministries given to the specific offices. Indeed, there are particular ministries that are given to the minister that are not given to the elder or deacon; particular ministries given to the elder that are not given to the minister or the deacon; particular ministries given to the deacon that are not given to the minister or the elder. Naturally, these are not clear distinctions, there is overlap. The point is not clear difference, but nuance of calling. Because these offices are given different central ministries means that the people that are called to these offices will often have unique gifts which may be different from one another. A gifted minister may not be a very good deacon, and so forth.

And so when we consider the concept of parity or equality, we must understand that this first means equality among offices — all ministers are equal, all elders are equal, all deacons are equal — and among churches. However, we might be able to expand this concept even further and say that one office is not fundamentally more important than another. All of the offices are needed and essential for their various ministries. But even if we stretch the principle of equality this far, there is still no grounding for the argument that all offices are the same.

And so when we think about this, we must consider what the principle of parity or equality is saying as well as what it is not saying. It is saying that the deacon is not less important than the elder. It is not saying that the deacon and the elder are the same.

Classical and Synodical Assemblies and Elder Participation

To understand the appropriateness of deacons in classical and synodical assemblies, we must first understand why elders are part of these assemblies and the reason that these assemblies exist. And herein lies much of the issue about deacons in broader assemblies. Classes and synods are often seen as “higher” or “more important” assemblies, and so it seems unjust that elders participate in these but not deacons. However, nothing could be further from the truth.

Much of this rests on the question of the reason that classical and synodical assemblies exist. As I have written about previously, the church is at its fullest expression in the local church, as the people of God gather around pulpit, table, and font — around Word and sacrament. The local church is the beating heart of the Church. In fact, if we want to create a hierarchy with the most important body at the top, the local church would be at the top. The local church is where ministry happens. It is where the people of God gather, worship, live the faith in the community in which the church has been placed. The deacon currently participates only at this level because this is the core of where the ministry of “mercy, service, and outreach” lies. The local church is where ministry happens.

The broader assemblies, classical and synodical, are not agents of ministry themselves but they oversee and enable ministry. The broader assemblies, both classical and synodical are not strictly church. Therefore, much of this question hinges on the function of these broader assemblies. Are they agents of ministry or do they oversee and enable ministry? Historically they have been understood to oversee and enable ministry. This is why elders and ministers participate in these broader assemblies, because their work is the work of governance and oversight — which is the ministry of the elder. The elder is “set apart for a ministry of watchful and responsible care for all matters relating to the welfare and good order of the church” (BCO, 2016, 1.I.1.8).

Elders, then, participate in these broader assemblies because this is the ministry which is given to this office. Deacons do not participate in the broader assemblies because oversight over the household of faith is not the ministry of the deacon. This in no way implies that a deacon is less important or “lower” than an elder, but that they are different.

We may want to rethink the purpose of the assemblies, and perhaps we are backing into doing so. But if we are going to do this, we must discuss this rather than the piecemeal approach which has been so common as of late.

Including deacons in classical and synodical assemblies in the way proposed by the recommendations before the General Synod, namely that the assemblies consist of ministers and elders or deacons, are simply distorting the unique ministries given to the elder and the deacon. Namely, that the deacon may now be involved in governance, oversight, and discipline instead of their crucial ministry of mercy, service, and outreach, and it is quite possible that this may make the problem of seeing deacons as junior elders even worse. While the goal, I think, is to make the assemblies more missionally-minded, the likely outcome is that deacons will simply be doing the work of elders.

This is not to say that there is no place for deacons in broader bodies, but those ought to be bodies which are specifically geared toward the ministry of the deacon, which leads to an excellent recommendation, to encourage the creation of diaconal assemblies.

Diaconal Assemblies

There certainly is a place for broader collaboration between deacons, and this is where deacons participating in some way in broader assemblies would be proper, helpful, and right. The creation of diaconal assemblies opens a world of possibilities for deacons to collaborate and work together on shared ministries in a way that respects their unique ministries.

The shape of these diaconal assemblies are limited only by the imagination and this avoids the problem of reducing or eliminating the disctinctives of the office of deacon and also goes further to remedy the problem of seeing deacons as junior elders. One might even envision diaconal assemblies parallel to the classes and synods, which are given real and important responsibilities in ministries which relate to mercy, service, and outreach. This is the more difficult path because, in many places, this would involve beginning something that is not yet existent (although nothing at all prevents its creation, and in some places such bodies exist). This is the more difficult path, but it is the best path.

Conclusion

There would certainly be a benefit to the church for deacons participating and collaborating in broader bodies. In addition to diaconal bodies, however, there may be a place for deacons in broader assemblies, but this is not it. Because the Government is constitutional, such a change is not simply an operational change but a change in the foundation of how we understand how the church functions. I do not oppose such changes, quite to the contrary, however, these changes must be carefully thought out and the consequences must be acknowledged. Changes of this magnitude ought not be done hastily or quickly, and these proposed amendments do not offer sufficient rationale or substantive change toward a way of rightly and fully incorporating deacons into the broader life and ministry of the Reformed Church.

Indeed, if we would wish to truly and rightly include deacons in the ministry of the broader church, we might consider thinking bigger than simply making deacons delegates to the broader assemblies. Perhaps we might even rethink how these assemblies work and how they might work in the future to better reflect the ministry of the deacon.


*Coertzen, Pieter. “Dordt and South Africa.” In Protestant Church Polity in Changing Contexts I, edited by Allan J. Janssen and Leo J. Koffeman, 137-53. Zurich: LIT Verlag, 2014, 141.

 

 

Reformed Church General Synod 2017: Overtures on Declarative Authority

This is part of a series of posts about the items and topics before the General Synod 2017

Other posts in this series:
Commissioned Pastors, Part 1: Foundations
Commissioned Pastors, Part 2: Recommendations before General Synod

***

An addition to the General Synod Workbook was recently released containing overtures from the regional synods. There are a few topics worth discussing contained therein, but for this post, we will look at the overtures that mention “declarative authority” — Overtures 34-38.

While I have previously discussed declarative authority and how it, in no way, means what it is purported to mean in these overtures, this is certainly not the only fallacy which these overtures rest upon.

Representative Principle

The use of the representative principle in these overtures is grossly misguided. The representative principle primarily counters congregationalism, where the congregation itself is the authority. It also shows that when a consistory, for instance, makes a decision “within the proper exercise of authority,” (Preamble, p. 3-4), that decision cannot be ignored, rejected, or protested against. There is nothing in the representative principle that justifies such a broad and unlawful usurpation of church power by the General Synod — particularly because the General Synod itself, as such, is not properly church. Synods exist for the good order of the church, they are not part of the essence of the church. 

Nature of the 1979 Judicial Case

Indeed, the reasons listed in support of these overtures are substantial, and substantially incorrect.

In large part the overture is founded upon a number of combined judicial cases in 1979. These cases were initiated as judicial actions (complaints against classes that ordained women). Because the cases were initiated by means of the judicial process the General Synod had to accept it as such. It is therefore factually false to claim that the “General Synod decided that the matter could be treated as judicial business.”

The factual error is important, because they lead to the fundamental problem with the overtures: they fundamentally misunderstand the unique nature of judicial business by confusing the nature of an assembly with the nature of a judicatory.

Judicial cases function very differently than assemblies, and the scope of their decisions is therefore markedly different. “Higher” and “lower” are terms that can only be used of judicatories. The judicial ruling of a higher judicatory (regional or general synod) must be carried out by the lower judicatory from which the case originated.

The same is not the case for assemblies. Assemblies make decisions and enact policies that affect their own lives together without infringing on the responsibilities of the other assemblies. 

The 1979 action had consequences for the whole church because it was a judicial case that affected the life of the whole church. The General Synod, acting as an assembly, had previously stated (exercising proper declarative authority) that “Scripture nowhere excludes women from eligibility to the offices but always emphasizes their inclusion, prominence, and equal status with men in the Church of Jesus Christ” (MGS 1958, p. 328), but the matter of whether any narrower assembly would actually ordain a woman was left to the narrower assemblies (consistories and classes). If the General Synod’s 1958 decision had carried the church-wide authority of a judicial matter, the 1979 case never would have happened. The synodical statement of 1958 was relevant in 1979, not because it had a “declarative authority” for the entire Reformed Church, but because it looked to its own past for guidance in making its decision.

Thus, since 1979, the matter of the ordination of women has been settled de jure (in law) for the RCA. Objectors could object, but could not bring an action against the ordination of a woman, so long as the ‘conscience clause’ was in effect.

Even so, to say that the place of women in the offices of the church is settled de facto (in the way we actually conduct our life together) is simply not accurate. Women continue to struggle for their calls to be validated through large swaths of the Reformed Church. There are still churches that will not allow women to serve in church offices (and in some cases they are theoretically eligible but not in practice), and women still find the validity of their office and call challenged. If, as the overtures allege, the General Synod made such a sweeping declarative statement in the past, why does not everyone fall in line?

If even the judicial action of 1979 (which is fundamentally different from what is proposed now) could not secure uniformity, how is an action that is based on a falsehood supposed to help the church on the way toward the desired uniformity? 

The “argument from 1979” does not provide any basis whatsoever for the General Synod, as an assembly, to make declarative statements in the manner proposed in these overtures.

Constitution, the Heidelberg Catechism, and Binding Interpretations

At the bottom of pages 3 and 6, the reasons reference a report from the Commission on Church Order from 2014, yet the use of that report was misleading. 

First, a broader look at the context of that quote itself.

 

only those things that are included in our Constitution may be treated as binding upon the ministers and congregations of the RCA. The way in which something is included in the Constitution is fairly straightforward: decision by the General Synod, and then approval by at least two-thirds of the classes, after which that approval is finalized by the subsequent General Synod. That aspect of our polity has implications for the authority of what a General Synod might say… (MGS 2014, p. 241).

 

Thus, only a sentence later it goes on to say that this has “implications for the authority of what a General Synod might say…” They go on to quote a section from a 2013 paper,

Statements, pronouncements, and policies of the General Synod or its agencies are not part of the Constitution. Nor are position papers and policy documents of the denomination. Surely these all have some authority, and our practice shows that they have varying kinds of authority. Insofar as they educate and exhort, they have an influence upon the church which can be seen as authoritative. As they direct denominational staff and agencies to act in certain ways, they are binding on those persons and agencies. Yet whatever authority they have is not constitutional authority. These do not bind or control the church, its members, congregations, or officers in the same way as do things that are part of the Constitution. In short, they are not constitutional. (MGS 2013, p. 357)

No one disputes the fact that the Heidelberg Catechism is completely constitutional, but what the General Synod cannot do is to make a definitive interpretation of the Constitution and treat such an unconstitutional decree as constitutional. There is nothing anywhere in the Constitution or in our history which would give the General Synod this authority, indeed, the General Synod cannot even give itself this authority.

The 2014 paper continues,

What, then, can be said about the authority of the General Synod within the church? Cautioned by the conundrum identified at the beginning of this statement, the commission wishes to point to some principles that are named in the church order. Christ governs his church through the offices (BCO Preamble, pp. 2–3). Each assembly of the church is a gathering of the offices and as such receives its authority from Christ (BCO Preamble, p. 4). In a fundamental sense of authority, then, the General Synod does not receive Christ’s delegated authority more than the other assemblies do, nor, indeed, less than the other assemblies do. One of the earliest principles of Reformed church order is the one by which responsibilities among the assemblies of the church are arranged such that ‘the greater assemblies care for the ministry that extends beyond the purview of the lesser assemblies without infringing upon the responsibilities of the lesser’ (BCO Preamble, p. 3).

At the same time, as noted above, the voice of the General Synod within the church can be powerfully influential. Some might question whether something can have authority and not be binding. We find, however, that authority functions to the extent that authority is accepted (or “acknowledged,” as the 1976 statement put it). The reality is that General Synod statements and resolutions are authoritative in the various senses mentioned above—first because the synod is an assembly of office-bearers, and also because we have covenanted together as office-bearers, churches, and assemblies to accept synod’s statements and resolutions as having authority, the nature, influence, and scope of which clearly vary depending on context, intent, and the passage of time. (MGS 2014, p. 241-242).

 

The Nature of Authority

The deeper issue, however, present in these overtures and in many of the discussions about human sexuality and what the General Synod should or should not do, or can or cannot do is the nature of authority itself. The overtures are correct in noting that the General Synod has the ability to exercise declarative authority. The fact is, the General Synod exercises declarative authority in the ordinary course of its work.

When the General Synod divested from Apartheid South Africa, the General Synod made a declarative statement that Apartheid was not in accordance with Scripture. The General Synod and its corporations, boards, and agencies were required to follow this action, but this action did not require classes or consistories, for instance, from doing the same. Similarly, the General Synod has consistently spoken in favor of increased gun control. This, however, does not force everyone in the Reformed Church to agree with this. Indeed, many in the Reformed Church oppose increased gun control.

Some might say that this lacks authority, however, this is certainly not the case at all. Synodical statements are very authoritative and the assemblies of the churches would do well to take the statements of General Synod seriously. What they don’t have is a single type of authority, that is, the authority to coerce. Simply the act of the General Synod saying something or making a statement does not end discernment of a matter. One cannot say, “The General Synod said it, I have to accept it, that settles it.”

At issue, though, is the extraordinarily reductionist view of authority which seems to be present in these overtures. The above-referenced report also speaks to authority.

In response to the second question—What is the nature of the authority of the General Synod on issues of doctrine and interpretation of Scripture?—it is abundantly clear that statements and resolutions of the General Synod are authoritative. One important question, however, concerns how they are authoritative. That is, what kind of authority do these have?

For authority is not merely a binary state, so that something is either authoritative or completely lacking in authority. There are various kinds of authority. This may be seen in the varied intended meanings when we call someone an “authority.” Are we referring to an expert, or to a police officer? In the former case, the authority has knowledge and competence worth accepting. In the latter, the authority has legal standing to enforce the law. Moreover, continuing with those examples, we readily understand that each of these authorities exercises his or her authority within an appropriate sphere. The expert is authoritative within that one’s field of expertise and not outside it. The police officer’s authority is valid in a given jurisdiction and not outside it.

In looking at the historical record, the commission observes that statements and resolutions of General Synod demonstrate a variety of kinds of authority and a variety of forces of authority as the church has accepted them to various degrees…

We may find a mix of kinds and scope of authority in the case of RCA divestment in companies working in South Africa during the apartheid era. The General Synod decided to divest its assets from such companies. That action applied only to the denomination’s own investments and not to those of congregations or of the RCA colleges. It did not bind consistories or boards of trustees. It was binding only on those who made investment decisions for the General Synod. Yet that action was intended to stand as an authoritative witness to the rest of the church. It had moral authority and perhaps even prophetic authority. The biblical reasoning used to support the decision to divest was marshalled to make a powerful scriptural case for the action taken. In all these respects, the decision of synod was authoritative, even though it was binding, strictly speaking, only upon the General Synod’s own agencies. (MGS 2014, p. 240- 1).

To reduce all authority to a matter of something which is judicially binding or that has the power to coerce is little more than worldly reasoning and does nothing for the benefit or the life of the church.

Conclusion

These overtures are correct in one thing: the charge given to the General Synod is not in administering the denominational program, the primary work of the General Synod is to address and wrestle with theological issues as it fulfills its charge as an assembly of the church, a gathering of office bearers. This is certainly something of which the Reformed Church needs to be reminded as too often the General Synod functions as an administrative body which simply approves whatever the General Synod Council says or does. However, this does not mean that whatever the General Synod does ought to be binding on all the assemblies of the Reformed Church. Certainly the statements of General Synod have authority (even significant authority), but not all authority is coercive and heavy-handed as these overtures advocate. The General Synod ought to aid the assemblies in their work, not do the work for them. This is the point at which these overtures drastically go astray. 

Declarative Authority and the General Synod

The Book of Church Order, in its Preamble, notes three types of authority that Christ has given to the church: ministerial, declarative, and spiritual.

Ministerial authority is the right to act as Christ’s servants. Declarative authority is the right to speak in his name within the limits set by Scripture. The church shall declare what is in the Word and act upon it, and may not properly go beyond this. Spiritual authority is the right to govern the life and activity of the church and to administer its affairs. The church shall not exercise authority over the state, nor should the state usurp the authority of the church. (p. 2-3)

The type of authority at issue, here, is declarative. From time to time, particularly as of late when many in the Reformed Church have lost sight of the doctrine of the church, we try to see a hierarchy where there is none, and we become confused about what is meant by the term, church.

In our tendency to abandon that to which God has called us and to demand a king (1 Sam 8), we periodically look to the General Synod to form a definitive teaching of the church. That is, the argument goes, that because the General Synod is the “top” or the “highest body” they ought to be the body charged with making scriptural and doctrinal interpretations that must be followed.

***

This error was seen at last year’s General Synod when, considering questions of human sexuality, the special task force stated in their report that the question must be answered whether human sexuality is “a cultural, ethical, and personal matter (and thus an issue for local classes and consistories to deal with), or a biblical and theological matter (and thus the purview of General Synod to speak to the whole church)” (MGS 2016, p.80). This distinction presented that “cultural, ethical, and personal” matters are the responsibility of classes and local consistories, while “biblical and theological” matters are the responsibilities of the General Synod is a distinction that was invented in this place at that time, and had absolutely no grounding in our polity, the church order, our understanding of church, or history. In fact, this distinction becomes problematic because it strips consistories and classes of their responsibilities in biblical and theological interpretation and application, it seeks to create a single body (akin to the Roman Catholic Church’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith) that has the ability to deal with biblical and theological matters, and it makes a division between the personal and ethical and the biblical and theological.

The General Synod does deal with the biblical and the theological, it is an ecclesiastical assembly, after all. And because it concerns itself only with the interests of the entire communion, it won’t deal with the personal, at least in the ordinary course of its proceedings. However, the biblical and theological are not only reserved for the General Synod, because whenever a local consistory or board of elders or a classis does its work, it also does scriptural interpretation and application and deals with theological matters. The point, however, is that they wrestle with it for their particular area of charge, not the entire communion.

***

Thus, we already have a tendency toward this error, and we have a tendency toward the error of a hierarchy and it is not uncommon to read about declarative authority and assume that this is a special property of the General Synod, after all, how can a local church declare “what is in the Word”? Isn’t this a matter for a higher authority? Should not the General Synod have the ability to make declarations on biblical and theological matters that all must follow?

It is easy to see how one can fall into this spiral, and it makes a certain degree of sense. However, the logic of this line of thinking is not the logic that is consistent with the Reformed understanding of church. This is far closer to a monarchical episcopacy, even if expressed collegially. The difference between episcopacy and Reformed governance is not only that the Reformed gather to govern the church, it is also that Reformed church government does not understand or recognize a higher or lower form of authority.

And thus, to reserve declarative authority solely, or especially, for a synodical assembly establishes a higher and lower form of authority. Indeed, the Explanatory Articles of 1792/3 state,

All Ecclesiastical Assemblies possess a right to judge and determine upon matters within their respective jurisdictions (Art. XXXI). 

Therefore, consistories, boards of elders, and classes exercise declarative authority in an equal way to a synodical assembly, just with a different scope of jurisdiction.

Indeed, in describing the authority of the assemblies, the Church order of Dort (1619) states,

A Classis hath the same jurisdiction over a consistory, which a Particular Synod hath over a Classis, and a General Synod over a Particular (Art. XXXVI).

While there have been some changes, the principle remains the same, the type of authority remains the same between assemblies, and there is no “higher” or “lower” in the typical sense of the terms.

***

But what about the question of the rightness of the General Synod exercising declarative authority to make binding and authoritative scriptural and doctrinal declarations that must be followed by all assemblies and the office bearers who are accountable to them? After all, wouldn’t that be fitting for the General Synod in the exercise of its authority, to make decisions for the entire communion?

Indeed, the Articles of Dort does not envision a General Synod that makes decisions for the entire church. The Explanatory Articles expanded a bit on the General Synod and brought in the concept of “represent[ing] the whole body” (Art. LI). But with this, one must also balance Article XXX of Dort,

A greater Assembly shall take cognizance of those things alone which could not be determined in a lesser, or that appertain to the churches or congregations in general, which compose such an assembly.

This, then, shows that a greater assembly does not have the right to interfere with the lawful workings of a narrower, or lesser, assembly. Indeed, the record shows that the General Synod has always been cautious when making statements so as not to slip into the trap of speaking ex cathedra and going beyond the constitution. Indeed, the General Synod has never been given the authority to “establish the definitive teaching of the church” (MGS 2007, p. 306).

The General Synod does not have among its powers the determination of what, finally, is the ‘teaching of the church.’ In Reformed church order, the teaching of the church is determined by the creeds and confessions of the church” (MGS 2005, p. 91). 

Indeed, the only way that the church communion can make binding declarative statements is through the Constitution, which requires far more agreement than simply a General Synod. The General Synod is not charged with making constitutional changes on its own. Constitutional changes require the concurrence of a supermajority of classes, and thus, it is not the General Synod making declarations, but it is the church communion making declarations. The General Synod, all by itself, making declarations and interpretations that are binding on all the assemblies and office-bearers of the church is a massive usurpation of church power.

 

Governance by Assembly and the Problem of Representation (Part I)

Few concepts cause more difficulty than the principle of representation and what this means in the church. This is particularly the case with those of us who are used to a representative democracy because similar terms are often used to address very different concepts.

The Representative Principle. The power which Jesus Christ bestows upon his church is mediated by the Holy Spirit to all the people. Since not everyone in the church can hold an office, and since the offices differ among themselves in function, some persons will always be subject, within the proper exercise of authority, to the decisions of others. Since the whole church cannot meet together at one time to deliberate, representative governing bodies must be established on the various levels. The unity of the church is preserved in acceptance of the fact that all are governed by the decisions made in their behalf by those who represent them. (Preamble, p. 3-4).

In a liberal democracy, constituencies elect representatives to the government who they think will best represent their interests and desires. Votes cast by these representatives are public because this is how they are accountable to their constituencies, and if their constituents are unhappy with the way that they are representing them in government, then they can be voted out and replaced with someone else.

In the church, elders and deacons are elected by the congregation, but the function of their office is far different than a representative or senator in a liberal democracy. Indeed,

“…elders are chosen members of spiritual discernment, exemplary life, charitable spirit and wisdom grounded in God’s Word.” (1.I.1.8).

“…deacons are chosen members of spiritual commitment, exemplary life, compassionate spirit, and sound judgment…” (1.I.1.10).

Whereas representing constituent’s desires is the responsibility of a representative in a liberal democracy, representing Christ is the responsibility of an office-bearer in the church. Elders and deacons are chosen not because they will speak for a particular population or constituency or faction within the church, but because they exhibit the above traits and are seen by the members of the congregation to be fit for these particular ministries.

The concept of representation becomes more problematic in broader assemblies. When a consistory sends an elder (or elders) to classis (remember, ministers are members of classis and are therefore not sent by their churches or consistories), is the elder there to represent their church or the perspective of their church? Indeed, what if the elder’s view is very different from the majority of their church?

The same thing can be said of synods (which are wholly delegated bodies). Are the ministers and elders there to represent (in the liberal democratic sense) the desires, wishes, and perspectives of their classes? What if a minister or elder is vastly out of step with the perspective of the majority of their classis?

***

To get to the logic, we must understand the source and nature of authority. In a liberal democracy, the understanding is that the representatives derive their authority from the people who elect them. However, in the church,

“All authority exercised in the church is received from Christ, the only head of the chruch. The authority exercised by those holding office in the church is delegated authority. Their appointment to their special tasks is by the Spirit of the Lord, and they are responsible first of all to the Lord of the church.” (Preamble, p, 2).

Therefore, from this, we can see that the authority comes not from the congregation or from the classes or from constituencies or factions, but from Christ, and as such, those holding office first and foremost represent Christ. Secondly, office bearers do represent the people, but not in such a way that they are to express the desires of the people, but that they act in the place of the people and on their behalf.

And so the question often comes, do ministers or elders have to vote the way their consistories or churches or classes would desire them to vote, or in the way that they would vote? That is, can their votes be bound by the desires of their sending body? Certainly not.

To do so would be a violation of the very foundations of our understanding of how God desires the church to work. We trust that God works in the gatherings of the offices themselves. The assemblies are not simply places to record votes, they are places to wrestle and to listen and to discern, together, the leading of the Spirit. By binding an office bearer to speak and/or vote in a particular way, this completely misunderstands the very foundation of the purpose of assemblies and why we gather in assemblies.

Thus, office bearers do not speak or vote in a way consistent with their sending bodies (consistory, classis, or regional synod), but in a way consistent with their conscience and how they discern the Spirit of Christ leading them.

And so with all of this, then, we can see how representation means something very different in the church and when it comes to the assemblies.

 

Coming in Part II: Representation and the concept of proportionality and the General Synod…

 

Why Leaving the Communion is Not Possible

Despite the periodic talk of churches leaving the communion (denomination), such a thing is simply not possible.

It is true that the Book of Church Order has a process (long and involved for good reason) for a church to be transferred to another ecclesiastical communion, but a church cannot, of its own volition, disaffiliate from or leave the Reformed Church.

In my previous post, I argued that when we speak of “the church,” we speak primarily of the local church rather than a communion. Indeed, one may attempt to use the principle of the local church being a complete church as license to come and go as one pleases and to freely and without hindrance affiliate with whichever communion that it wishes or no communion at all. This, however, would be a gross misunderstanding of the local church being an ecclesia completa, and indeed, I address it there.

So often, however, it may seem that the local church ought to have the ability, even the right, of unrestricted self-determination.

However, local churches do not have that ability, and for good reason. While local churches are complete, in that they have the ministry of Word and sacrament and all the necessary elements as expressed in the Belgic Confession of Faith, they do not form themselves. The church is not something which we can, on our own, establish. The church is something which is outside of us and into which we are grafted. As such, local churches are established not from us, but from beyond us. The broader church is the one that establishes local churches. In our structure, the classis is the one that is charged with that responsibility and privilege. Because churches do not form themselves, they do not have the right to do whatever they wish.

It is for this reason that the classis has “the authority to transfer a local church to another denomination, together with all or part [or none] of its real and personal property…” (1.II.10.3, 2016). Indeed, the classis is never required to transfer a church, and it is well within their right, after doing due diligence, to determine that it would not be “in the best interest of Christ’s Kingdom” (1.II.10.4f, 2016) and deny the request altogether.

Thus, on the one hand, a church cannot decide, on their own, to disaffiliate with the communion because they did not form themselves and they do not have the ability to break a bond which they did not form. On the other hand, however, there is a deeper issue at stake.

What does it mean to be a church? Is the church a corporation which is owned by its members and deserve a “share” in the church? After all, the members of the church are the ones who have poured their blood, sweat, and tears (and money) into the life and property of that local church. It only seems right that they have the ability to determine with whom, and on what terms, their church affiliates. While local churches are often incorporated and while there are elements of corporations in the church, in its essence, a local church is not a corporation but is the local expression of the universal church of Christ.

It should also be noted that a consistory in effect holds its property in trust, not only to keep faith with the generations that have gone before, but for those who are yet to come. The local church stands in relationship to the denomination as one link in a long unbroken chain binding past, present, and future in one continuing expression of faithful witness to Reformed faith and practice…

When a person becomes a member of a church, he comes under the discipline and jurisdiction of the denomination. He does not expect that he owns a piece of the church building. If he becomes disaffected with the church, or the denomination, he is at liberty to ask for a transfer of church membership. He does not then receive a portion of the church’s assets, nor does he expect to, even though he may have contributed substantially toward the cost of building the present church edifice. But when a group of members elect to leave the church, or the denomination, they seem to feel that they should be allowed to take the church property with them. (Minutes of General Synod, 1972, p. 192).

Furthermore, it has been determined by the church that there are times when it is to the benefit of the church of Christ for a local church to be able to retain its property. This determination, however, is the domain of the classis in exercising its episcopal function. For generations, the church has determined that the classical authority of oversight and supervision is essential and worth protecting.

The well-known and well-loved first question and answer of the Heidelberg Catechism reads,

I am not my own…

Indeed, this holds true not only for us as individuals, but also for churches as well. Churches do not belong to themselves, nor do they belong to their members. Churches belong to Christ, and some things, such as breaking fellowship, require broader discernment and oversight of the broader body of Christ.