Here are four problems, however poorly or accurately labeled and articulated, shown throughout history and still being faced today in modern Christianity regarding orthodoxy, unity, and identity. These issues, I fear, will only manifest into greater distortion in another new way I cannot yet predict. That it is or is not possible to predict I am not concerned. In general, I am merely expressing these problems, and seeking understanding whether there are solutions, whether intuitive or counter-intuitive, that we as Christians might more effectively reach the lost and maintain right fellowship with one another as brothers and sisters in Christ. This is a discussion in Ecclesiology; the rigor of maintaining the right structure of the local church body. In reflection, it seems as though these following questions all are related to authority: how much authority can we throw off in order to live our lives the way we want?
Catholic Problem (exclusivity)
Exclusivity or Ecumenism: how can we be confident we are on the right track?
All those who are in the church are saved, all those outside (Arians, Montanists, Waldensians, etc.) are not saved. In Roman Catholicism the word “Catholic” in this sense means “universal”, as it always has meant, though it has been associated with the picture we get is that there is strict unity (while admitting non-heretical diversity) among all believers, and in some respect a sharp distinction and heavy weight given to the word heresy. Simply put, a heresy is a belief or practice that deviates in such a way that one does not honor God through it, but rather participation with its acceptance sets oneself against God. As such, heretics do not belong in the church, they ought to be cast out, according to St. Paul’s admonition.
While Roman Catholicism stresses this exclusivity perhaps most highly, they have also typically distinguished the invisible Church from the visible: those who are members of Christ’s body, from those who attend a building or do good deeds. And hence those who reject sound doctrine may desire to remain within the church, either influencing those who are saved or at least desiring to identify themselves as being orthodoxy (despite being contrary in reality). But even admitting this distinction, we have an orientation toward unity in the faith in conjunction with doctrine that sets up an assumption: that the Church cannot get off track doctrinally. We see this most evident in Roman Catholic churches and Eastern Orthodox Churches in greatest degree, though there are examples within Protestant churches.
How this can be a problem is only in the way we interact with doctrine. First and foremost, for doctrine and practice Scripture is the final authority we have on earth, since it is on God’s authority. If we have anything else, it must be checked with Scripture. But Scripture is not a pile of raw facts or even a systematic theology. What’s more: we interpret it within our own framework and tradition. Thus, we are left with three other sources of doctrine and practice: traditions passed on from the beginning, developing theology via armchair or application, and the Holy Spirit quickening our hearts and renewing minds (usually this is in conjunction with the first two). So, with respect to doctrine, there is a process and unfolding — revelation is progressive in nature.
But who determines what is the right direction? One option is to have councils and creeds showing universal commonality of those who are in the faith. And these were established. The Nicene Creed of AD 325 is an example of this. But what if you feel whole groups of people are diverging father and farther? Then universality is not going to be adequate, and we will need someone who can mediate across the globe, some may say. The Papacy increased in power and the influence became more and more centralized after the Roman Empire became Christianized. On these grounds, the Great Schism of 1054 represents the first break: the Eastern (Greek) Orthodox split from the Roman Catholic west. They rejected the Roman Catholic’s claim that the Pope has authority over the entire church, they rejected modifications made to ecumenical creeds, they rejected the direction in which theology was being developed in the Latin west. To this day, both Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox claim that they are the true heirs of Apostolic Succession. They each think they are passing the baton given them by the disciples of Christ. The Crusades that followed in Europe in the next two centuries were, in part, a result of this division.
While doctrine unfolds progressively, to be sure, and it is certainly a high view of the mankind within the Church that we would get doctrine right when making formal confessions and creeds and councils. The strength of doctrine is not ensured even with the weight of Scripture, even if we have the Holy Spirit present and He fills us. That being said, we have a sure, concrete foundation (Christ, the incarnate Word, and Scripture), but not a structurally flawless building (tradition, ecclesiastic heirarchy, etc.). We expound and renew our minds in a process — but due to culture, local events, and language, we are not all going the same direction. As mentioned above, this is what happened with Roman Catholic/Eastern Orthodox. But even today, we see that some emphasize particular social problems more than others, and some pursue the resolution of different theological issues more than others. Simultaneously, we must struggle with our own sin and limits of our own understanding.
Thus, I am inclined to think that division was almost certain hundreds of years before it came to pass. And today yet it has come about just as the Roman Catholics predicted it would when Protestantism was coming on the table: that if there the church splits, there will be yet another and another — it will be out of control. And if we look in the local phone book it is apparent that it is true. But looking across the globe, it is even worse: we don’t have only a couple denominations or a dozen denominations; we have thousands. The mirror that reflects Christ now has just as many split pieces as the spider-crack can keep together.
Does this mean that ecumenism is impossible, that the catholic body of Christ is legitimately divided? No, I don’t think that follows. Does this mean that catholic exclusivity is unnecessary? No, I don’t think that follows either. But what other options do we have left?
Protestant Problem
Tossing Church’s Authority via Traditions: What weight does tradition have on us?
The Catholic Problem is not obviously resolvable, but it was not in the same form as the Protestant Problem. Historically, from even the early church many heresies had come on the rise and threatened the health of the church and spread of the gospel. In so far as retaining orthodoxy was possible, the Catholic Problem was a strength aiding the Church through these times. In the 3rd century, Tertullian had argued that people outside the church had no right to interpreted Scripture how they saw fit, since the Scriptures were entrusted to the Church; and since they contradicted the traditions that were passed down inside the church for not quite a hundred years (insofar as the way Scripture had always been read that way), why would we give credence to their (new) interpretation? This objection became important to the Protestant debate, since many followers of Luther, Zwingli, etc. in western Europe had been interpreting St. Paul, St. John, and St. James’s letters significantly different from the way the Roman Catholic bishops were. The Roman Catholics argued that Luther and others were bringing in a new interpretation that contradicted the traditions passed down. Thus, Luther and Zwingli, though being inside the church as scholars of the same sacred texts, had no right to bring these interpretations in since they were contradicting much tradition and practice. Meanwhile, the Protestants argued that these practices and interpretations had not been there since the beginning, but had corrupted and altered what had been passed down through the hundreds of years. The Church had gotten so off track she missed the point and the original traditions; thus quoting Tertullian became moot.
From the vantage point of RC and EO Christians, it appeared that Protestants were essentially tossing off Church authority in the realm of tradition. The mere fact that the Church had interpreted the texts a particular way for the last 400 years did not carry the same weight; the mere fact that the Church operated with the understanding that had been taught them and were godly people was not really proof that we had things right. For the Protestants, they argued that the Roman Catholic church had ultimately gotten off track and stopped passing the orthodox baton. Obviously, they did not throw everything out that Catholics were claiming rested on tradition, but certainly they tried to get rid of as much excess as they could find. This is why Sola Scriptura is so important: it places all doctrine and practice upon Scripture alone, with tradition to temper it (to guide and better understand it within our cultural context); but it gives no final authority on traditions, since man constructed the traditions and man is not final.
The result? Mistrust in Church authority and tradition. This is paradoxical, because what is trusted? Church authority and tradition still. But a different one now. The traditions are being contradicted by another (new) tradition, claiming to have tighter grounding with the apostles. The authority of the Church, which was usually understood as the local priest or bishop, with the Pope’s silent approval, is being replaced with a local priest or overseer who does not have the silent approval of the now-demonized (“Antichrist”) Pope, but rather his open disapproval. The Catholic traditions included trusting not only Scripture but also the literate popes and bishops and other saints through the ages. But the Protestant traditions now stress Scripture — and with it, a particular reading of Scripture — and of knowing Scripture intimately in one’s own language. So, in both groups they agree about Scripture but disagree on the divine source of church’s traditions, and hence they differ in tradition — in the sense that they bring in different customary ways of doing things (in this case, Sola Scriptura, with the other four Solas in mind).
If anything, the Scriptures themselves would claim not to be Sola Scriptura, because they tell us to “hold fast to the traditions” (2 Thess 2:15) and to pass on what they have been taught by the apostles to faithful teachers who would do the same (2 Tim 2:2). Paul, that is, claims that we ought to take more than just his letters, more than just the gospels, more than the Old Testament, more than the other apostles’ epistles for what we should base our theology. Doctrine and practice comes from all these things for sure, but also from their lives that they lived — what was inexpressible for words, that which cannot be put to pen.
And to jam the system: the majority of the church for the majority of time was likely not Sola Scriptura.
But how could this make sense for a Protestant? Is it not just tradition, which we wanted to get away from? Or at least, can we not take the pragmatic approach, cutting off the excess, the dross, so that we could see Christ better for who he is? How do we know it is dross; how do we know we are not just being rebellious, mistrusting sheep, running away from the leaders of the flock and going astray?
The solution, I wonder, is in how we ought to view tradition. Give it weight. Give it a lot of weight. It is not infallible, but take it seriously and take it as a guide. Traditions give context to everything in Scripture; without the context, we lose the cross.
Congregationalist Problem
Independence means individually responsible: but how is a church to be held accountable?
Allow me to clarify three different views of polity before continuing: Congregationalist, Presbyterian, and Episcopal. Polity has to do with the governance of ecclesiastical structure, how the local church is organized within its congregation and relates to other assemblies. For the purposes of our discussion, Congregationalist polity is basically an autonomous church body (independent); Presbyterian is non-autonomous church body with an elder/pastor board; Episcopal is non-autonomous with a bishop. Key examples: of Congregationalist, Baptist, Church of Christ, and most Non-Denominational churches; Presbyterian, Presbyterians, Reformed Churches, etc.; Episcopal, Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Episcopalian, Lutheran, etc. FYI, there are counter-examples for some of these.
Through the rise of Protestantism there became mistrust of church authorities, and a growing desire for less and less centralized power. This is seen in the political philosophy of their period, but we can see it today as well in many other areas of American life. There was a desire to have a church trying its best to conform its understanding of the Scriptures, and reducing the power of leaders who may be leading whole synods or dioceses away from the true faith who are not held accountable to the congregation. With this movement, we seen members seeking a more democratic process where they can control who is leading the church in some significant capacity; where they do not see the counsel or vote from another congregation with which they have little interaction.
But this leads to a problem in its very make-up. Contrasted to Presbyteries and Episcopates, the Congregationalist models lack inter-church community in some relevant ways and accountability in faith. Churches ought to work together to be more effective in their communities; and some congregationalists have set up Conventions, or associations, by which they say “these guys agree with us, so we can work with them or pool money with them”, in order to accommodate this issue. Many churches don’t, and many even still do not even if they are associated together by a Convention. Yet more importantly, where is accountability in this set-up? It is all on the local body’s responsibility.
This has a catch-22 attribute embedded, since you won’t know the body is apostate unless you were orthodox, but in that case you would likely not have an influence in that apostate community to bring them back on track; yet it was for the reverse of this scenario (something like, we are orthodox, but the world is heretical) that they desired to be protected from the other model. So, how might a church be brought back on track? Would we reject it until the Holy Spirit revives its dead body? Or would we seek to infiltrate, though much resistance would be given? Would we just call them to repentance, and hope they listen? It doesn’t seem so easy.
Presbyteries and Episcopates have the advantage of removing apostate pastors even if the congregation likes him. This keeps the building and the faithful, forcing those who would prefer apostasy to turn away (as they already had in their hearts) or turn to Christ, whose body is the universal church. Out of practicality, they can also enforce new policies and give new edicts to help pressing matters. Furthermore, they can call congregations to unite on certain issues and expect follow-through.
The worst part of the Congregationalist set-up is that when a church goes apostate or simply ineffective, the most common result is to have the faithful or the most charismatic (in the sense of driven, not Pentacostal) separate from the body to start a new congregation — with the same model. They think they are going to be more effective now that the old dross is cut off. But the question becomes: who now is holding them accountable? Might the cycle yet repeat, they would just press the new congregants to a new building who would likely do the same over time.
If you’re a Baptist, little doubt you’ve probably seen this or experienced this firsthand. I have seen several breaks myself. And I lament this fact, since my church, no matter who was in the right, got hurt significantly. Not just in numbers, but overall growth and effectiveness in the community.
A more contemporary example is the Westboro Baptist Church, whose teachings and controversies are an embarrassment to those who would claim Christ. How might their false teachings be dealt with? How might they be silenced? How might their claim to be Baptist, yet they have no association which would accept them, be shown illegitimate? (Is that even possible, or is that essentially an inherent problem with the Congregationalist Baptist model?) How might their congregation come back to right belief and behavior? Even so, they must stop, lest God’s name be slandered and fame mocked.
Nondenominational Problem
Identity and division: is the proclamation of non-division a problem with identity?
As we’ve seen in the last three problems, they seem to compound and compound — and they seem to follow. This problem, I feel, continues this progression. In casting off labels and denominations for the sake of being virtuous and non-divisive, they potentially lose their identity as a Christian community accountable to others, within a specific tradition, having a particular perspective taught. There are so many ways this can be a problem, and I am sure there are some non-denominational churches who have little to none of these problems. However, let them be fleshed out.
Lack of accountability to other groups. This is seen as the Congregationalist Problem. There are known examples where some non-denominational churches will associate with others, just as the conventions (E.g. Southern Baptist Convention), but this does not solve the problem of accountability. This seems to be as a problem of identity with other congregations.
Lack of objectivity in perspective. Many, no doubt, do emphasize that they accept all orthodox traditions; however, this does not at all address that they have their own particular tradition that they teach there as the right interpretation of Scripture, whether it is something like a cross between a Baptist and Presbyterian, or a Methodist and a Pentecostal, or some other mixture. The more they emphasize the specific tradition, they more denominational they sound; but the less they emphasize it, the less historically grounded and more what-the-pastor-believes it becomes. This seems to be a problem of identity of who they are.
Lack of humility. This perhaps is a problem with other denominations just as much anywhere else, if not more; but there is a unique kind of arrogance in some non-denominational churches in thinking they are better because they are taking the high ground, that they are better because they don’t have inter-denominational fighting, that they are better because they are just teaching the Bible straight. But there is a problem with this, because it is undue self appraisal foremost, but also it is a lack of understanding of themselves in relation to God — pride is a result of not knowing who you are with sober judgment.
Yet aren’t many churches going this direction? And are these problems, however typical or atypical, really unacceptable? Can we head this direction in good conscience and accept it for what it is?
I’ve been involved on campus in Christian ministry for college students. After graduating with a degree in Psychology degree in May of ’09, I was called to take a greater role for leadership and instruction from God’s Scripture in an attempt to be relevant, insightful and applicable for students. God worked through these times. I felt God called me to pursue further training for ministry — not only for the local church, but also for collegiate education. Thus I picked up and completed another major (philosophy) in 2010, and continued to save up money for seminary. I graduated without any student loans. 
As I was preparing myself and setting aside funds, God gave me an opportunity to be involved with Campus Crusade for Christ. Through this ministry, my whole orientation toward evangelism changed, and my desire to get deeper in God and grow spiritually only increased.
My heart’s desire was to get into a strong Reformed school for some solid training and acquire a masters in Theological Studies. This two-year program will give me an understanding of the original languages (Greek, Hebrew, etc.), as well as the necessary systematic theology, which is a critical foundation for further study in a doctoral program (or if God would so press my heart to change to a pastoral program, adding but a year more). As such, I applied to and was accepted by Calvin, Covenant and Westminster theological seminaries. It was a hard decision, but I will be enrolled at Westminster Theological Seminary (Philadelphia, PA), starting courses in Greek on July 25th. I will move and set up camp in the middle-to-end of June. Needless to say, I am sincerely excited!
