What I Believe

[11/04/20]

This is rather an apt topic to be taking up on the day following our national elections.  I confess I’ve not as yet bothered to scan the news and discover the results.  Time enough for that in due course, and whatever the result, the fundamental order remains unchanged.  God is in control.  And that assuredly applies to the overall governance of His Church.  “He is the head over all rule and authority,” writes Paul (Col 2:10), for God has “put all things in subjection under His feet, and gave Him as head over all things to the church, which is His body, the fulness of Him who fills all in all” (Eph 1:22).  This is a theme Paul visits repeatedly, but these two verses suffice, I think, to make the point.  We could just stop right here, and declare definitively that the widescale governance of the Church belongs to Christ, and Christ alone.

We would find ample historical support for such a view, I think.  There is that old chestnut of Puritan wisdom, for example.  “You are to follow no man further than he follows Christ.”  That certainly applies to those who would govern the Church.  If they do not govern as following Christ, then they govern without due authority.  But all this being said, we know too well that attempting to live by such a singular and, if you’ll pardon, distant source of authority would soon devolve to anarchy.  We need order, and God knows this full well.  When Scripture sets forth Christ as head over all rule and authority, it does not in doing so revoke all such rule and authority, or declare it null and void.  It declares it subject to the veto power of God.

When Scripture speaks of civil authority, it requires of us that we submit to same.  Indeed, while I would generally assert that there is a boundary set beyond which submission must not go, I don’t know as you’d find it declared outright.  Being written in an age when any sort of limit suggested on Caesar’s authority might be grounds for a death sentence, I don’t suppose it’s too shocking that no such exception is found in writing.  But conceptually, it’s there.  If authority is not exercised in accordance with God’s will and purpose, then authority is no longer authorized.  It is a usurpation.  Yet, when Paul writes of submission to authority, it is not during some period of happy governance, but rather, a period when Christianity was seen as a dangerous and subversive sect.  How is the Church to deal with this oppression?  “Let every person be in subjection to the governing authorities.  For there is no authority except from God, and those which exist are established by God” (Ro 13:1).  You may or may not care for the policies of the current administration.  That changes nothing.  “For it is a minister of God to you for good.  But if you do what is evil, be afraid; for it does not bear the sword for nothing; for it is a minister of God, an avenger who brings wrath upon the one who practices evil” (Ro 13:4).  Hard to see Nero fitting that bill, and yet, there it is.

Think on the smaller scale, if you will.  There is the stunning case of Onesimus, of whom Paul treats in his letter to Philemon.  Here was a slave on the run, and he had managed to run surprisingly far, reaching Paul in Rome when his master dwelt inland in Turkey.  Does Paul celebrate this slave’s liberation?  No, he does not.  For this is not the submission of a believer, but the rebellion of a sinner.  Yet, Onesimus has become a believer, and by rights, indeed by Mosaic Law, Paul ought to ensure this one is left free.  But Paul sees a higher responsibility.  Onesimus, having come to believe, must needs not only confess his belief, but demonstrate his submission to Christ.  How is that to be?  By freely returning, of his own volition and quite apart from any coercive, compelling force, to his master.  The larger picture, as concerns matters of slavery, which was, after all, an exceedingly common condition in that era, was submission.  If you can obtain your freedom legally, by all means do so.  It’s not like there’s some inherent nobility in servility.  But until and unless such opportunity arises, submit.  Indeed, the call is to go beyond mere submission.  “Slaves, be obedient to those who are your masters according to the flesh, with fear and trembling, in the sincerity of your heart, as to Christ; not by way of eyeservice, as men-pleasers, but as slaves of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart.  With good will render service, as to the Lord, and not to men, knowing that whatever good thing each one does, this he will receive back from the Lord, whether slave or free” (Eph 6:5-8).

Well, that’s rather a lengthy divergence into civil authority, but I hope it is in some way serviceable as a backdrop for considering the wider governance of the Church which is Christ’s body.  My point thus far is simply this:  Christ is Head, but He being all-wise God, has appointed structures for the more immediate governance of His Church.  We may be challenged to discern the shape of that structure as it applies across the wide expanse of the Church in the world, but we ought to be able at least to see signs of it.

[11/05/20]

Turning to the Church proper, it might serve to consider the varied forms of governance that have been found in her over the centuries.  I stress the word might, for this is not as one could say a Scriptural foundation, but at best the determination of men who presumably based their actions on what they found on the pages of Scripture.  We saw some signs of this organization in the consideration of church councils earlier.  That there were church councils called, and that these were attended by a selection of, shall we say, ranking members, indicates a form of governance.  The point of the councils was that their decisions were to be construed as binding upon the whole of the Church; not, perhaps with the full weight of Scripture, but as the determined best understanding of Scripture’s application.

So, we have this organizing principle that resulted in the papacy with its ranks of bishops under the leadership of the bishop of Rome.  This was not, it must be noted, uncontested.  Neither was it a clear development from the tenets of Apostolic teaching, though it lays claim to Apostolic roots.  Historically speaking, it was something of a rapid development, though.  We see signs of its approach even with the first generation of post-Apostolic teachers.  What should we make of this?  I think one thing that MUST be made of this is that there was a clear understanding that the Apostolic office would not, I would argue could not be continued.  The eye-witnesses to the life, death, and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ had passed from this life, and that being their role and their chief distinguishing qualification, there could be no replacements.  Yet, something, was needed that went beyond the local pastor and his presbyters.  To them, the instruction from the Apostle Peter is telling:  “Shepherd the flock of God among you” (1Pe 5:2).  Elsewhere, and I am failing to find my reference at this juncture, is the notice to keep your nose out of the business of another’s flock, if not in those particular words.  The presbyter and the pastor are a local authority.  They may, I suppose, advise outside of those local bounds, if advice is requested, but their authority does not extend to such application, only such wisdom as they are able to bring with them.

This being the case, and recognizing that the Apostles, in their day, did in fact have such authority as had application to all the churches, it’s not surprising that those who remained at their passing sought to establish some overarching form of governance.  Some mechanism, after all, needed to exist to settle disputes and debates over doctrine, and it seems that the bishop’s office, though it has its root in the position of the local presbyter (for the terms are effectively synonymous), began to take on wider scope.  It may be that certain bishops had particularly outsized reputations.  This could have come, I suppose, from proximity to the Apostles in the first period.  We think of Clement and Polycarp, for example, who had direct experience of John’s governance and teaching.  It may be that they had simply demonstrated a particularly deep understanding of the things of God, and demonstrated that understanding in a life lived unto God, or to borrow the phrase from R.C. Sproul’s ministry, lived corum deo – before the face of God.

However it came about, their prominence grew, and with it, their authority.  Certain bishoprics came to hold particular sway no longer because of a particular bishop, but because of a wider reputation for learnedness.  I think of Alexandria, for example, with its famed library and reputation for learning.  I think, too, of Jerusalem, which had prominence, one suspects, as the fundamental birthplace of Christianity, if for no other cause.  But in the course of time, Rome, whether by merit, by politicking, or merely by locality to the seat of civil power, became the primary see.  In due course, its bishop became vested with a claimed authority which I would say must be found far in excess of legitimacy.  That is not to say that popes and popery are inherently evil; at least not on this basis.  But the claim to apostolic succession defies a proper understanding of the Apostles.  The later claims to divinely binding proclamation of equal authority with Scripture is evidence of sin’s corruption.  How this can be maintained when one ostensibly divine oracle manages to contradict another, I fail to comprehend.  At any rate, whatever legitimacy may have been there at the outset would seem to be rather thoroughly lost at this juncture, and it has become just another political structure with little concern for God or holiness.  That may be harsh, and it most certainly doesn’t account for the beliefs of the Roman church’s myriad constituents, but as concerns the head, I’m sorry.  It is rotten.  When a pope sets up pagan idols in the church and fails to see the echoes of Jerusalem’s downfall in his actions, there can be no claim of Christian faith remaining.

What of other synodic forms of governance?  I think of those like the Lutherans and Presbyterians, and I suppose the Anglicans as well.  Here, the synod is, rather like the church councils of ancient times, vested with binding authority over the faith and practice of its constituency.  Pastors are not so much called as sent to fulfill the perceived need of the local church as such need arises.  I would suppose, although I’ve not looked at it in any depth, that this model looks to the councils for its inspiration.  Here again, I think we could look to the beginnings and see a righteous purpose to the organizing principle.  And yes, I would say the same certainly applies to the roots of Catholicism.  There is, in this synodic approach, an evidence of concern for the purity of the church’s teaching.  Here, as we have observed becomes needful from time to time, is a place in which disputes over Scripture’s teaching can be brought for resolution.  Here, in the council of many, wisdom may be found.  Here, at the very least, we can find a biblical backing.  “Without consultation, plans are frustrated, but with many counselors they succeed” (Pr 15:22).  “A wise man will hear and increase in learning, and a man of understanding will acquire wise counsel, to understand a prover and a figure, the words of the wise and their riddles” (Pr 1:5-6).  And that, with the clear understanding that, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and instruction” (Pr 1:7).

We must make certain assumptions about those who serve in such an institution.  We must assume (and I suppose we ought rightly to assume the same of the Catholic bishop) an actual calling.  That might be taken as layering a particular viewpoint on the nature of ministry, but I think the viewpoint taken is that which Scripture declares.  I’ll save further thought on that for local governance, I think.  But let us for the purpose of discussion assume godly calling in those who form the synod.  This calling has presumably been tested and confirmed to such degree as man is able to properly assess.  This does not, as I have likely observed by now, ensure likeminded outcome in matters of doctrine and theology.  Clearly it does not, for we have a plethora of denominations which are founded primarily on exactly those sorts of disagreement – not always matters of doctrine, but most often so.  Yet we do not, by and large, denounce one another as heretics in spite of the popular imagination that suggests this is how we Christians behave.

So, then, this council, this synod comes together, a gathering of presumably learned and devout ministers of God’s Word, and there is cause to come together.  Some doctrinal dispute has arisen, or some new teaching encroached upon the church.  Or perhaps, as seems the case more often in our time, it is a matter of shifting societal views and how the Church is to respond.  Here, in this gathering of sound, biblically oriented men of wisdom, one hopes the purity of doctrine can be preserved, the questions which arise be addressed by application of clear biblical principles, and in short, the integrity of Christ’s church maintained.  But it is not always so.  It is not guaranteed, certainly.  The corrupting influence of sin can still take hold, as with the parable of leaven which Jesus applied, and its work may not be noticed until it is, at least by human measure, too late.  The majority view no longer holds to Scripture, but holds to societal opinion.

Here, I think, we come back to a root issue with all large-system governance.  Power corrupts.  One may start out with the purist of motives, but access to power leads to thirst for power leads to grasping at power.  That being the case, and without suggesting disregard for the Bible’s counsel to submit to authority, we must yet recognize, I think, that to establish such power structures over the Church invites the corruption that comes with such power structures.  It is one thing to seek wise counsel from many godly advisors, and thus to grow in wisdom.  It is quite another to grant binding power to simple majority of opinion.  The former is the clear advice of Scripture.  The latter is an invitation to poor governance.

What remains?  Well, there is, of course, that form of governance adopted by several of our Protestant sects, which allows for certain applications of a larger, governing body, but not binding authority over doctrine.  They may, for example, provide valuable resources and support structures which the local church can make use of.  They may serve as a first or second level validation of calling for those who would serve as ministers or pastors in their denomination.  They may have say over the inclusion or exclusion of a local body on the basis of shared belief and soundness of doctrine.  But they cannot bind the conscience beyond that power of inclusion and exclusion.

[11/06/20]

The challenge remains of discovering, if we can, what Scripture may say to any such governing body over the churches.  Examples come to mind of the organization of Israel during her sojourn in the wilderness, but whether that should be construed as civil or sacred governance is less clear.  I could see an argument for saying the two were so closely intertwined in that period that no real distinction remains.  So, what is it we see in this example?  We see the heads of the families of each tribe playing a relatively significant role in determining the course taken.  This does not, I should note, include deciding when the nation stayed and when it moved out.  That remained, as it must, God’s sole determination.  Neither did it have application in choosing the chief leader of God’s people, whether Moses or Joshua after him.  That, too, remained God’s sole prerogative.  But it is clear they had a significant role in the day to day administration of things.  Again, civil, or sacred?  If I look at the few direct mentions we have of their activities, I would incline to say it was far more a matter of civil governance. 

We have the family heads listed at some length as the journey begins (Ex 6:14-25).  I think this is more than simply making certain there’s a record of lineage.  The heads of households are listed specifically.  It is now larger than just the twelve tribes.  There are sub-units in each tribe, and they are numbered, it would seem by the immediate sons of Israel’s sons.  Why?  Because they will have a role to play in the administration of order amongst the people of God.  Much later, towards the end of the journey, we see the same family heads come with concerns about inheritance.  If inheritance is through the sons, what of the man who has only daughters (Nu 36:1-13).  Again, I think we need to look beyond the earthbound concerns expressed here.  It’s not a matter of land and houses.  It’s a matter of inheritance, and God’s addressing of that question makes clear that the inheritance of His children will not be lost.  In this case, it expresses in arrangements made for those daughters to marry within the tribe, so as to maintain the balance, as it were.  But the larger point is that life circumstances will not alter God’s provision of an inheritance for His children.

Once more we find these family heads in action, and this time it comes with the conquest of the Promised Land begun.  Reuben, Gad, and Manasseh had determined to remain across the Jordan, and as they had settled in that place, they built an altar.  This, quite rightly, was a grave concern to their brother tribes.  And so, we find the sons of those three tribes come before ‘the heads of the families of Israel’ (Josh 22:21).  They come to explain their deed, and to make clear that it is not a setting up of idols, but rather a reminder for later generations, both in their tribes and in the others, that they are all of the Lord’s people.  “Far be it from us that we should rebel against the LORD and turn away from following the LORD this day, by building an altar for a burnt offering, for grain offering or for sacrifice, besides the altar of the LORD our God which is before His tabernacle” (Josh 22:29).  And so, Phinehas the priest, and the heads of the families, who were ‘the leaders of the congregation’, having heard this explanation, found it not merely acceptable, but pleasing (Josh 22:30).

Do you see what’s happening here?  The heads of the families have gathered to resolve a potential issue of doctrine.  Certainly, if some of their number had gone out to build a competing altar, a competing sect, as it were, this was a serious issue.  But let me put it in a slightly different light.  The heads of the families demonstrated concern for the spiritual well-being of their fellow heads and their fellow families.  Where there was the appearance of departing from sound doctrine, they undertook to correct, to resolve, and to restore.  The particulars of this event may be rather more violent than we would find seemly in matters of church governance, or even civil governance for that matter, but the purity of faith was a serious matter deserving of serious address.  It still is.

So yes, I think we can find in this something of a model for the larger governance of the Church.  We might take the families as stand-in for the local church, and see that there comes to be a sort of representative council for resolving of differences and for addressing questions of doctrine and practice.  Did they carry the force of law, as it were?  I suppose the threat of death must count as a yes.  Could they bind conscience?  That is less clear.  What they could do is ensure the conscience-binding Law of God was maintained unaltered.  That seems to me a different thing, and thus I incline to say no.  They could not, even with majority vote, amend God’s Word.  They could neither add to it nor subtract from it.  They could not impose new demands, nor revoke existing demands.  That would far and away exceed whatever authority they had.

If I come forward into the era of the New Testament, I am hard-pressed for examples of wider church governance, for throughout, we still have the presence of the Apostles.  As I have already noted, while they certainly formed the chief council of earthly authority for the Church during their tenure, that finished with their passing.  We may look to them for role-models in whatever governance remains, and seek to emulate their care, their compassion, and their devotion to God.  But we cannot look for some Apostolic council to maintain order in our day.  There are, quite simply, no Apostles available to form such council, and those who lay claim to such title fall far short in their comprehension of what that office was.   I may yet pursue that here, before I move to local governance, but I am rather more interested in what might answer today.

Perhaps, in the way that various churches made appeal to the Apostles, we can begin to find something of a basis for forming our own views.  Again, the fact that they had the Apostles to appeal to means we cannot take their approach directly, but I do see this:  the local church did not become so insular as to seek all her answers at the local level.  When questions arose, or doubts, or the inevitable challenges of false teaching became an issue, they didn’t just man up and try to sort things out on their own.  They reached out.  They sought counsel.  They went where they could find wisdom to bring to bear on their situation.  And further, that counsel, once received, was shared, at least where sharing seemed to be warranted.

This is the story of the Epistles.  These were letters written either in response to questions sent by the local church, or because report of issues in the local church had come to the attention of the author by some other means.  At any rate, problems were presented and answers provided.  Where it made sense, i.e. where the issue was more than some local peculiarity, those epistles were circulated not only to the church that had led to such a letter, but to other churches as well.  These are the letters we find preserved in Scripture because the problems presented and the teaching provided are of universal application.  We read hints of other letters which have not been preserved, and we may reasonably suppose that these addressed more singular, localized matters, and as such, remained local in distribution.

This rather follows the model of church governance as we see Jesus supply it in Matthew 18, doesn’t it?  What can remain local should remain local.  We don’t need to expose the sins of our brother to one and all if we can address it in private and resolve it then and there.  But if his sins have a threat of spreading to the church body at large?  Then the church body at large needs to know.  Here, it is simply expanding to the larger body of the Church universal.  Things have happened over here that are likely to happen in some form or another to you over there.  The advice given to this church will apply just as readily to you in your turn.  Read it and be forewarned, or, if these same troubles are already with you, read it and find answer.

Were these Apostolic missives seen as binding?  Yes, I suppose they probably were, and rightly so.  Again, that is a part of the example that we can’t really bring forward to our day because the authority that made them binding is not there.  But the idea of appealing to others for advice and aid?  That certainly applies.  The idea of sharing our own advice and aid to support our brother churches?  Absolutely, this applies.  Here is, I think, a clear and reasonably supportable framework for a larger organizing body that transcends the local church.  Whether it can be granted significant governing, directing power over the local body remains to determine.

We have, as yet, questions of how pastors are made, if you’ll pardon the choice of phrase, and how they are supplied to the local church.  As to the first, I think regardless of one’s views of church governance in this wider application, the pastor is not so much made as called.  That is not to say that having been called, we simply account him ready to go and find him a church.  There is a place for proper training, but the training alone will not suffice.  There is a place for seminaries, but seminaries, like any other human organization, are subject to the corrupting influences of sin.  It’s sad, but it is also entirely evident.

As such, whatever our process is for qualifying pastors, it’s going to need more than a diploma.  There’s a reason we have ordination councils.  Pastors come together to query the one who would join their number, to test his doctrine and temperament; in short, to seek confirmation of his calling.  That is, again, the most significant matter of qualification:  Has God indeed called this one to the pastorate?  Because we are such imperfect beings, it befits us to seek manifold confirmation of so serious a matter.  There is the question of whether the one before us has a sense of this calling in his own right.  We have known periods in church history where the pastorate was nothing more than a job, or worse, a way to keep lesser siblings out of the way and occupied with something other than conniving after the inheritance.  That’s not a calling.  That’s a viper in the house, seeking profit at the expense of God’s people.

There is also the question of whether those who have known and have experience of the pastoral candidate have seen evidence of such a calling.  Is the example of this candidate’s life in keeping with the character required of a pastor?  Is there a sense of holy fervor?  I don’t mean emotional agitation.  I mean is there the desire to serve, the desire to grow in wisdom and understanding, the desire to apply what has been learned to help his fellow believer grow and mature?  Is there some evidence of the necessary gifts having been given?  This goes so very far beyond eloquence of speech.  It goes to temperament, it goes to capacity to persevere, to bear the burdens of a congregation before the Lord without being worn down by the effort.  It goes to a reliance upon God in prayerful supplication and utmost humility.  And even then, the answer is not enough.

Does this candidate hold to sound faith?  Does he understand the doctrines of God’s Word, and is he able to make them comprehensible and applicable to those he would shepherd?  If he is granted a pulpit, will it serve God well that this has been granted?  That is the task of the council here.  Does his understanding of Scripture steer clear of hazards, of falsehoods, of culture creep?  Does his application of Scripture demonstrate a balanced regard for law and gospel?  Is there grace in his manner?  Compassionate care?  Does he have heart-knowledge as well as head?  Does he understand how to put that knowledge into action on behalf of the kingdom of God?

Here is a place where this larger governance is most needful, for it will be rare indeed that those in the local body suffice to fully and dispassionately assess the qualifications of the candidate.  Here is a place where the call to seek the counsel of many is most apt.  If I might be somewhat crass and compare this to current events, this is rather like the appointing of a new judge to the court.  They’re going to be there a long time.  If they are a good and righteous judge, that is to the great benefit of all.  If they are not, then that is to the detriment of all, and can have a hugely outsized impact on the shape of society moving forward.  So, the pastor and the church.  A solid pastor can have a huge positive impact not only on his flock, but even more widely.  By the same token, a pastor beset by false beliefs can do significant harm, not only to his flock, but more widely as well.  And they’ll be at it for some time.  By comparison, a presiding position, whether in government office or church, is a passing thing.

[/11/07/20]

That leaves us with the question of how pastor, having been ordained, is met with congregation.  There are at least two schools of thought on how this ought to proceed.  On the one hand we have those denominations who would maintain that it falls to the governing body to select and send a pastor to a given church.  On the other hand are those denominations which maintain that it is up to the local body to determine who shall be its pastor. 

Most of my life, to the degree that I have been involved with the church at all, it has been with denominations in this second category, and I’m sure that rather colors my sense of how things are supposed to work.  That being said, I observe that even in such a system, there are occasions where a pastor is sent, rather than called by the body.  Perhaps that is cause to reflect just a bit.  Again, the goal here is to establish beliefs based upon the understanding of Scripture, and not to force-fit Scripture into one’s beliefs.

My first thought is to turn back to the example of Moses and Aaron.  Moses seems the natural figure to consider, given his prominence, but I’m actually more curious to see what Aaron’s situation tells us.  Moses, after all, was both called and sent, after a fashion.  The prayers of Israel in her captivity had long sought one to come with the Lord’s aid.  Moses was not looking to take up this mission.  God came looking for him.  But then, Moses, significant though he was, was not the pastor.  He was the prophet and the leader, but not the pastor.  Aaron had that office.

Aaron comes to attention as Moses demurs as to his capacity to do as the Lord requires.  That’s not really in my skillset, God.  Perhaps You should send somebody else.  God, we note, was not happy at this display of humility.  His anger ‘burned against Moses,’ and He points out Aaron the Levite, Moses’ brother (Ex 4:14).  “He shall speak for you to the people” (Ex 4:16).  In short order, we learn that the LORD also told Aaron to go to Moses, and Moses tells him what God told him was to happen.  The two proceed to address the elders of Israel, “so the people believed” (Ex 4:27-31).

What can we find in this?  What should we find?  I see Aaron called of the Lord.  I see him sent to the congregation of the people of Israel, not exactly chosen out of their number.  That said, it’s not clear whether Aaron was among those in Egypt or if he somehow comes from outside that number.  The details are not, to the best of my knowledge, there in the narrative for us to discover.  I would assume, though, that he was there in Egypt with the rest, as Moses had been at least at his birth.  I don’t know that there were any Israelites outside of Egypt at that juncture.  So, Aaron is chosen, near as we can tell, from amongst their number, called by God, and then sent as priest, demonstrating his calling by word and deed.  But also, the congregation of Israel, represented by her elders, would seem to have had some say in the matter as well.  It fell to them to accept or reject.

Beyond this, I’m not sure there’s much we can draw from the OT that would help us form a proper understanding of how pastor and congregation are to be joined.  After all, at least as concerns the legitimate structure of worship, there is but one temple to serve in and one congregation.  There is no question of councils sending or bodies calling.  There is the temple.  There are the descendants of Aaron.  Case closed.  Matter settled.

What do we see in the New Testament?  We catch glimpses, but they are not in any greater detail than the events of Aaron going out to meet Moses.  We see that pastors are ‘given’, as are apostles, prophets, evangelists, and teachers (Eph 4:11).  That speaks to me more of the gifting for office than the gifting of the office.  They have a task:  Equip and build up the body.  But that speaks to the extent of their authority in office.  Beyond that, we find the apostles appointing elders, and this with much prayer and fasting.  Consider.  “And when they had appointed elders for them in every church, having prayed with fasting, they commended them to the Lord in whom they had believed” (Ac 14:23).  This is not quite a matter of plant the church and then announce, “Okay, you’re on your own.”  But it is, I think, a recognition that this would in due course be the reality.  There is still the clear recognition that though this comes, in this case, by the hand of apostle or evangelist, depending how one chooses to view Barnabas and Paul at this juncture, it comes by God’s appointment.  “God has appointed in the church, first apostles, second prophets, third teachers, …” (1Co 12:28).  I drift into the question of local governance, but how does one not, under the circumstances?

Let me just note that Barnabas is, in fact, identified as an apostle in that passage from Acts, and also given top billing at that point.  My sense is that they are, at that moment, apostles in the sense of having been ‘commended to the grace of God for the work’ by the church in Antioch (Ac 14:26).  That is to say, they were commissioned and sent on this specific mission by the commissioning authority of the church in Antioch, which satisfies the base definition of the word apostle, but does not necessarily vest with the full authority of the Apostle as particularly called and equipped as eye-witnesses of Christ.  It’s more than I care to chase out at this juncture, whether Barnabas had the necessary prerequisites for Apostleship.  Neither, if that is the case and he is identified with that number who are properly accounted Apostles in this uppercase sense, does it alter anything for our present day or our present consideration.

Paul certainly could, and did, point to Christ as his appointing authority.  “I was appointed a preacher and an apostle (I am telling the truth, I am not lying) as a teacher of the Gentiles in faith and truth” (1Ti 2:7).  And he, in turn, sent others to take care that the church was properly equipped.  “For this reason I left you in Crete, that you might set in order what remains, and appoint elders in every city as I directed you” (Ti 1:5).  Now, I’m going to focus in on a bit of instruction given Timothy as Paul saw his years coming to a close.  “The things which you have heard from me in the presence of many witnesses, these entrust to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also” (2Ti 2:2).

The overall picture, to the degree that I can see it here, appears to be this:  The church is planted, and at its planting, rather of necessity, a pastorate, which I will suppose is to be found amongst the elders, is appointed by the external, planting agency.  But these first appointees are also trained up and taught, and that teaching, as we see, includes the instruction to prepare others to take up the task in their absence.  Entrust the teaching to those who will in their own turn continue the work.   Nowhere, I observe, is arrangement made for maintaining a line of apostles going forward.  Indeed, nowhere is there evidence that I can find of arrangements being made for any large-scale form of Church governance.  All is done at the local level.

The nearest we can come to anything at all like the synodic council would be the council of Jerusalem, to which the church in Antioch appealed for clarification.  I think it’s clear enough that the Apostles in Jerusalem felt they had authority to speak authoritatively on the matter.  But it’s equally clear that Paul, assessing his dealings with the Jerusalem Apostles, did not find them a binding authority, but rather a confirming advisory board, if you like.  He wasn’t looking, necessarily, for their stamp of approval on his teaching.  After all, his teaching was given by Christ.  What he was doing, as we read Paul’s assessment of the event, was more by way of assuring them that they were indeed one Church, encompassing now Jew and Gentile alike; that he was not preaching anything different than the gospel they had, as he had, received from Christ.

So, Antioch appeals to Jerusalem for answers, when they find themselves troubled by these Judaizers, but it’s interesting, isn’t it?  Why did they go, Paul and Barnabas, to Jerusalem?  It was in reaction.  Some had come from Judea insisting on the need for circumcision, and we may assume, other observances of Mosaic ritual (Ac 15:1-3), and given the inevitable consternation, not to mention staunch disagreement from Paul and Barnabas, the church sent for answer.  We have a problem.  Two competing claims arise, and both claim godly authority.  Yet both cannot be correct, for they are diametrically opposed.  The church at Antioch was effectively confessing it was beyond them to resolve which was true and correct, and so they appealed for aid.  You, the Jewish Church, what do you say?  There, too, there was debate as to the correct answer, with some, particularly those who had formerly been Pharisees, insisting that the Judaizers were in fact right on this matter.

What is the response?  Well, the Apostles recognize that this is not, in fact, a necessary undertaking for the Gentiles.  The Judaizers are not, in fact right at all.  In point of fact, what is happening amongst the Gentiles is in keeping with the words of the Prophets (Ac 15:15).  So, what does James answer, on behalf of the Jewish Apostles and elders (and I would stress the inclusion of the elders in this matter)?  “It is my judgment that we do not trouble those who are turning to God from among the Gentiles…” (Ac 15:19).  There are matters of abstaining from idolatrous sacrifices and fornication and the like, which would have been (as we see with Corinth, for example) rather a strong temptation from past experience.  But they are not so much handing down edicts, from what I see, as offering counsel.  “Since we have heard that some of our number to whom we gave no instruction have disturbed you, unsettling your souls, it seemed good to us, having become of one mind, to select men to send to you with our beloved Barnabas and Paul” (Ac 15:24-25).

This is both affirmation of the two who were their local representatives, if you like, and a renunciation of those who had brought this errant demand to them.  They are from our number, yes, but not conveying anything that we have instructed.  Here is our instruction.  “It seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay upon you no greater burden than these essentials:  Abstain from things sacrificed to idols and from blood and from things strangled and from fornication; if you keep yourselves free from such things, you will do well” (Ac 15:28-29).  That’s it.  Nothing of ritual included.  There is no ceremonial matter binding upon you.  The essentials all pertain to walking clear of pagan idolatries, nothing of compliance to Mosaic ritual.  But the only way in which these could be construed as command decisions is insomuch as they lay claim to the Holy Spirit as the source.  It is not, then, the council that holds authority, but the one Holy Spirit to whom both churches submit.  Again:  This is Apostles and elders.  Had it been Apostles alone, one might claim authority to impose this requirement of their own accord.  Of course, that would still presuppose the authorizing Holy Spirit behind their requirement.  But the inclusion of elders makes this more a matter of peer review, and I think their sending of representatives along with, ‘our beloved Barnabas and Paul’, rather reinforces this sense of the matter being a counsel of equals, not a lording over Antioch by Jerusalem.

What do I conclude?  I conclude that I do not see any support for the synodic concept, and that I do see, at least by the example of the spreading Church, a model very much in keeping with what I find in practice amongst denominations such as the Baptists and the Congregationalists.  I do not see a foundation for the seminary concept, apart from that call to prepare men of faith to carry on the work.  But that’s perhaps something of an interpretation of the original call to fit the times.  I don’t see seminaries precluded.   I see that at the time of church planting, there being as yet no established body of believers to draw from, there is an appointing by the planters, but an appointing with an eye to developing just that sort of established body from which new elders, new pastors, can be drawn going forward.  That is to say, the local church is planted in such a way as will tend towards its continuance.

I see the place for mutual counsel between local bodies as the need arises, recognizing that we are, after all, one body under one Head.  Why would we not avail ourselves of the gifts of wisdom and knowledge that may have been given to our fellow believers with slightly differing perspectives and circumstances from our own?  Why would we not, in our own turn, grant them the benefit of our own perspectives and circumstances experienced?  We are, after all, family.  But to be binding upon their conscience?  No further than the essentials.  That does leave open matters of discerning what things are truly essential, and I have to say that this exercise has taken me far beyond essentials into realms of opinion.  But as concerns our dealings with one another, there’s the limit:  As to essentials, insistence, but not on our authority; rather on the authority of the Holy Spirit and Christ our Head.  As to other matters, we can advise but not insist.  We can discuss civilly, or perhaps we would be better advised to discuss not at all.  But growth is to be found in civil discussion, not that we might change one another’s minds, although that is one possible, if unlikely outcome.  Rather, I think the growth will more likely come from recognizing the space for differing views in common faith to one God.