Tuesday, February 4, 2025

On Singing Hymns

NOTE: The following is part of a pastoral letter/paper that was written to address a lengthy letter that was sent out to members of my congregation that caustically criticized our practice of singing hymns in public worship.


On Singing Hymns

By

D. Patrick Ramsey

 

 

History of singing by God’s people and the Reformed Tradition

 

The OT church did not only sing songs from the Psalter because we find them singing other songs (Ex. 15:1-18, 21; Judges 5:2-31; 2 Samuel 22; Ezra 3:11) and being commanded to sing other songs (Deut. 31-32). In fact, the Psalter itself commends singing the Mosaic law (Ps. 119:54, 172). T. David Gordon rightly observes that “even the Israelites were not exclusive psalmists.”[1]

 

The NT church also did not only sing songs from the Psalter as is clear from 1 Cor. 14:26, and many scholars believe that passages such as Phil. 2:5-11 and 1 Timothy 3:16 may be examples of early Christian hymns.[2] We know that Christians were writing and singing hymns in the early centuries of the Christian church. Benjamin Shaw has noted that “most modern hymnals contain at least a few hymns that trace their origins to the late 2nd century.”[3]

 

The singing of hymns is seen throughout the history of the church. The Reformation introduced new hymns, including A Mighty Fortress Is Our God by Martin Luther. The Reformed churches in Strasbourg and Constance sang metrical psalms and hymns, including some hymns written by Martin Luther.[4] John Calvin strongly encouraged the singing of metrical psalms, but not exclusively.[5] In his defense of psalm singing, the puritan Thomas Manton was careful to confess that “we do not forbid other songs…Tertullian, in his Apology, showeth that in the primitive times they used this liberty, either to sing scripture psalms or such as were of a private composure.”[6]

 

The highly celebrated puritan John Ball wrote that the psalms are “patterns and forms of spiritual songs but not set forms prescribed to us as psalms to be sung in those very words and forms…because God hath not given them to that end, nor by his commandment tied us and all churches to them and none others, in the precise form or words.” He also indicated that this was a common view in his day, when he wrote, “When in the new Testament we are exhorted to sing psalms, they will not say that we are tied to David’s psalms, or other songs given by immediate Divine inspiration.”[7] Ball cited Ephesians 5:19 and Colossians 3:16 in the margin, indicating that these verses were understood to teach that we are not limited to the Psalter or inspired songs.

 

There is a tradition of exclusively singing metrical psalms, especially in the Scottish Presbyterian Church tradition. However, it is not true to say it is the Reformed view, only a Reformed view. As Benjamin Shaw has observed, “the exclusive Psalmody view has never been a unanimous view even in the Reformed church, with the possible exception of a period of about 50 years in Scotland.”[8]

 

What about the Westminster Standards? Is singing hymns confessional? The Westminster Confession of Faith speaks of “singing psalms with grace in the heart (WCF 21.5).” Although the Westminster Assembly advocated metrical psalm singing, it is important to understand that the word “psalm” was used in those days as a general term for “any sacred song…sung in religious worship,”[9] and thus could include metrical psalms and hymns. Chad Van Dixhoorn, the leading expert on the Westminster Assembly, writes, “Nonetheless the commendation of the Psalms in the confession and the directory needs to take into account that early-modern use of the term ‘psalm’ is not limited to the Book of Psalms only. The common use of psalm almost always included hymns, and in its scriptural proof texts the assembly deliberately directs readers of the confession to passages like Colossians 3:16, Ephesians 5:19, and James 5:13, which call Christians to ‘sing praise’, or to sing ‘psalms and hymns and spiritual songs’.”[10]

 

Should we only sing from the Psalter?

 

We are told in Scripture to sing psalms, but we have no command in Scripture to restrict our singing to the book of Psalms. Stephen Pribble has shown that three of the four Hebrews words translated as “psalms” are generic terms that refer to songs and songs of praise. The fourth Hebrew word is a technical term that only occurs in the Hebrew Psalm titles and Scripture never uses this term when it commands us to sing psalms. Thus, when the Psalms themselves tell us to sing a psalm, they are telling us to sing songs and songs of praises to God, and not to sing only the Psalter. This is why it is not surprising that songs outside the Psalter are also called a “psalm” (1 Sam. 22:1; Job 35:10; Ps. 119:54).

 

The Greek term for “psalm” can also be used in a general sense of song of praise or in a special sense to refer to the book of Psalms, an individual Psalm, or the third division of the Hebrew Bible.[11] 1 Corinthians 14:26 is an example of the word “psalm” being used to refer to what the leading NT Greek dictionary calls “Christian songs of praise.” Of this verse, Charles Hodge says that the psalm “can hardly mean one of the Psalms of the Old Testament; but something prepared or suggested for the occasion.”

 

Since the term “psalm” in the OT and in the NT can be used to apply to songs other than the ones found in the Psalter, we must not assume that when the Bible says to sing psalms that it must be referring to the psalms in the Psalter or to the Psalter as a book. That may be the case, or it may not be.

 

The same is true with the phrase “psalms, and hymns, and spiritual songs.” A common point made by exclusive psalmists is that these three words all refer to categories of the Psalms. They argue that the three terms are frequently found in the titles of the Psalms in the Greek translation of the OT, and therefore Paul is referring to the Psalter. It is true that the three words are used in the titles of many psalms, but you can’t leap from that point to Paul is referring to the Psalter because the same words are used to refer to songs outside of the Psalter.[12] Paul could just as easily be referring to those songs or even to new songs of praise. Indeed, there is no good reason to think that Paul must be referring exclusively to the Psalter since neither the Old Testament church, nor the New Testament church practiced exclusive psalmody.

 

It is sometimes argued that since God gave us a collection of songs in the Psalter we should, therefore, only sing from it in worship. Of the several problems with this argument, one is that the presence of a collection of songs doesn’t imply that it is an exclusive collection. That is an unwarranted leap in logic and consistency would require us to apply it to other collections in Scripture.[13] The only way we could argue this way is if God says that we must only sing from this collection of songs. But, of course, the Bible never says that.

 

We might also question the unproven assumption that the Psalter is exclusively a songbook or that God gave it to his people as a hymnal for public worship. Even though it was once common for scholars to refer to the Psalter as “the hymnal of the second temple,” more recently some scholars have argued the Psalter was collected, not as a hymnbook, but as a book for meditation.[14] Be that as it may, many of the psalms themselves provide information regarding their origin and use. Iain Murray notes that there are around fifty-five psalms that “were given to be sung by Levitical choirs in public worship.” However, “the title of other Psalms, such as the seventeenth and the ninetieth, refers to them as prayers, indeed a section of the Book appears to have been given that name at the end of Psalm 72: ‘The prayers of David the son of Jesse are ended.’ Other Psalms, perhaps forty in number, may be said to be chiefly for instruction. That all the Psalms were ever used in the temple in worship, or that all were ever given for congregational praise, is simply an assumption and rests on no evidence. For many Psalms there is no indication at all that they were set to music for public worship.”[15]

 

The exclusive psalmody position, therefore, is extra-biblical and as such it violates the regulative principle of worship, which states that we should only worship God in the way that he has commanded us to worship him. As Greg Bahnsen says, “to prohibit congregational singing of anything but the Old Testament psalms is an unwarranted addition to the word of God (cf. Deut. 4:2) and – ironically – a violation of the regulative principle of worship thereby.” This is an important observation because, as Iain Murray has pointed out, exclusive psalmists “sometimes speak as though ‘purity of worship’ was only known amongst them.”[16] Nevertheless, we do want to make it clear that we believe that exclusive psalmists hold to the regulative principle of worship and strive to be faithful to it. The difference between us and them is not in adherence to the regulative principle, but in our respective applications of it or as Lee Irons puts it, “The issue is how Scripture regulates song in worship.”[17]

 

Are metrical psalms inspired?

 

Exclusive Psalmists are correct to point out that psalms are inspired, whereas that is not the case with hymns. However, metrical psalms, which are the ones we sing in worship, should not be regarded as inspired Scripture. In fact, they are not even on par with a good English translation of the Psalms. Stephen Pribble rightly says, “One cannot justify a metrical paraphrase on the same basis one would justify a translation; a metrical paraphrase is not a translation, but a paraphrase of a translation, and therefore one step removed from a translation. Singing a metrical Psalm is not the same as singing inspired Scripture; Psalms in meter are in fact hymns of human composition paraphrasing the Psalter, and not identical to inspired Scripture.”[18]

 

The puritan John Ball made a similar observation in 1640. He wrote: “We cannot say that the psalms as they are sung in meter in our churches, or (for ought I know) in any churches in the Christian world, are the immediate and infallible truth of God, given by inspiration of God, any more then we can say of an holy paraphrase upon the scripture, that it is, the Scripture itself.”[19]

 

May we sing hymns?

 

We have already seen that the command to sing psalms cannot be restricted to singing the Psalter. So, what should we sing in worship? T. David Gordon has pointed out that there are numerous texts in the Psalms themselves that tell us to sing songs and even to some degree what types of songs we are to sing, (sing praise to God; sing thanks to God; sing about God’s deeds, etc.), yet “without restricting any of such song to either the words or content of the canonical psalms…or inspired literature.”[20] In other words, the Bible tells us to sing in worship and it gives us the freedom to compose our own songs for worship.[21]

 

This freedom comports well with the fact that we have been created in God’s image with the abilities to hear, think, meditate, feel, choose, formulate, and articulate. We are not computers or robots who regurgitate what has been put into us or given to us. We should not, therefore, downplay or ignore the difference between revelation from God and the human response to that revelation. God acts on our behalf, and he speaks to us, and we respond with our whole being by means of our God-given abilities in song, prayer, and praise to what God has done and has said to us in these last days through his Son.

 

To ask what we should sing, therefore, is like asking what we should say in our sermons but even more like asking what we should pray in our prayers. We may pray the words of Scripture (e.g., The Lord’s Prayer) and we may pray in our own words. However, we are to compose our own prayers according to the general rules of the Bible (e.g., there is only one God and therefore we are only to pray to that one God), and the specific directives in Scripture on prayer (e.g., pray in Jesus’ name). Further help in constructing our prayers will come from the examples in Scripture. We learn how and what to pray from the prayers we find in the Bible, including the ones we find in the Psalter. Indeed, we may simply adopt and modify them. For example, I may adopt Psalm 51 as my own prayer but modify it with NT teaching by asking God to wash me in the blood of Jesus that I may be whiter than snow.

 

The same is true for singing. Like prayer, our compositions must be in accord with the general rules of Scripture, and the specific directives on singing.[22] Furthermore, biblical songs serve as templates for our own songs, and we may adopt and modify them even as we may do so with biblical prayers. Contrary to some exclusive psalmists, Isaac Watts was certainly within his biblical right to paraphrase or re-work the psalms considering the further revelation we have received from God.

 

In this regard, it is worth noting the close connection between prayer and singing. Psalm 90 is a prayer of Moses, yet it is also sung (see also Ps. 42:8). We can say our prayers to God, and we can sing them. Hence, if we are allowed to pray “Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! All thy works shall praise they name,” then why wouldn’t we be allowed to sing the very same words, especially since our prayers may be sung? Likewise, if we may pray a New Testament informed version of Psalm 51, in the style of Isaac Watts, why wouldn’t we be allowed to sing it? Although singing is not the same in every respect as the spoken word, they both are ways in which we respond to God, and there is nothing unique about singing that would suggest that it must be regulated differently than our prayers.[23]

 

Similarly, there is a close connection between singing and teaching. In fact, just as singing may be a form of praying, so it may be a form of teaching. Paul makes that point in Ephesians and Colossians. Paul says that we need to let the word of Christ dwell in us richly so that we might teach and admonish one another in all wisdom by singing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. Now if we are allowed to teach biblical truth with uninspired words, then why shouldn’t we be able to sing songs that teach with uninspired words?

 

The close relationship between singing, praying, and teaching ought to lead us to see that the arguments against singing uninspired hymns could also be used against our praying uninspired prayers and against our preaching uninspired sermons. Thus, when you read the arguments against hymns in that light, it should help you to see why they miss the mark. For example, if you reason that we should only sing the canonical psalms because they are the best songs to sing since they are God’s word, then consistency demands that you should apply that to prayer and preaching. There are no better prayers to pray than the prayers in the Bible (including many in the Psalter) since they are God’s word. Therefore, we should only pray the words of Scripture. Why would we dare to use something inferior when we pray? Who can teach the truth of God better than God himself in the Bible? Therefore, the preacher should simply read the Bible, and not use his own words to explain it. Who does he think he is, after all? Does the preacher think that he can say it better than God? The fact of the matter is that the Bible tells us to sing, pray and preach without limiting our songs, prayers, and sermons to the very words of Scripture. The Bible gives us the freedom to use our own words.

 

We might also point out that the context of Ephesians 5:19 and especially that of Colossians 3:16 strongly suggests that we should compose new songs that incorporate NT teaching.[24] As Lee Irons has pointed out, if Paul only wanted us to sing the Psalter, then there would have been no need to mention “with all wisdom.” You don’t need “all wisdom” to choose a psalm from the Psalter. However, to sing songs of praise and instruction based on the new revelation in Christ, you not only need “all wisdom,” you also need to let the word of Christ richly dwell within you.[25] Paul, therefore, seems to be instructing the church to sing new songs of praise in worship, which is what, as we have seen, some puritans understood Paul to be saying.[26]

 

This conclusion fits well with what we see throughout redemptive history and with the new revelation that has come to us in and through God’s Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. John Frame writes: “In Scripture, new acts of God call for ‘new songs’ (Pss. 33:3; 40:3; 144:9; 149:1; Isa. 42:10; Rev. 5:9; 14:3). God delivers his people from Egypt, and they sing a new song (Ex. 15). He gives them water in the wilderness, and they sing (Num. 21:17). He renews the covenant and commits it to their memory with the song of Deuteronomy 32. Christ is conceived by the Spirit, and Mary responds with her Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55; compare 1:67-79; 2:14, 29-32). The picture is not one of a static hymnal given by God for all time; rather, it is the dynamic picture of God continually doing wonderful deeds and his people responding to them with shouts of praise. Just as God’s deliverances elicit new prayers of thanksgiving and new subject matter for preaching, so they elicit new songs. In this regard, is it even remotely possible that the greatest divine deliverance of all, the redemptive work of Christ, should not evoke new songs?”[27]

 

One final point I want to make is in relation to the charge that hymn singers embrace a form of dispensationalism. This accusation is based upon the fact that the psalms speak about Christ and therefore we don’t need new hymns to sing about him. And to think otherwise implies that the Psalter is not a “Christian songbook,” and that way of thinking is akin to a dispensational view of the relationship between the Old and New Testaments. This is a terrible argument. Recognizing that the NT contains new revelation and singing about that new revelation is not remotely dispensational. It is thoroughly biblical and Reformed. Moreover, is it “credible that the language of Christian praise must ever be confined to the words of an age of far less light and privilege? Is this difference between Old and New to be recognized in preaching and prayer but not song?”[28] Again, John Frame:

 

“Are the Psalms adequate for the New Testament Christian? Certainly we cannot criticize their theology, since they are divinely inspired. And the Psalms do testify of Christ, as the New Testament shows in its use of the Psalter. But the Psalms present Christ in the ‘shadows’ (Col. 2:17), in terms of the incomplete revelation of the Old Testament period (Heb. 1:1-3). Indeed, to limit one’s praise to the Psalms is to praise God without the name of Jesus on one’s lips.”

 

“But the completeness of redemption in Christ requires a whole new language of praise: about Jesus the God-man, his once-for-all finished atonement, his resurrection for our justification, and our union with him by faith as the new people of God. Doubtless there are anticipations of these doctrines in the Psalter, but Christian worship demands more than the language of anticipation. It demands the language of fulfillment and completeness, for that is what is distinctive about New Testament faith. It is precisely the accomplishment of God’s mighty works that evokes praise in Scripture.”[29]



[1] Gordon thus notes: “It would be profoundly ironic, then, if the NT saints could not only sing no more than the OT saints, but less (emphasis his).” NOTE: Joel Willitts in his logos course on Jewish Literature during Second Temple Period says that the Psalms of Solomon were used liturgically in the synagogue.

[2] See Hughes Oliphant Old, Worship: Guides to the Reformed Tradition, 43-45.

[3] Benjamin Shaw, Studies in Church Music, 13. Iain Murray writes that “within ten years of the death of the apostle John, a Roman governor, Pliny, is to be found describing Christians as those who ‘assemble early in the morning, and sing among themselves alternately a hymn to Christ as to God.’” The Psalter – The Only Hymnal?, 14fn16. See also John Ball, A Friendly Triall, 59.

[4] Old, Worship, 49-51.

[5] Genevan churches sang the metrical decalogue, the Kyrie eleison (Lord, have mercy), the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostles’ Creed and the Nunc dimittis, which is Simeon’s song in Luke 2:29-32. See Stephen Pribble, The Regulative Principle and Singing of Worship, 15-16.

[6] Manton, T. (1871). The Complete Works of Thomas Manton (Vol. 04, p. 442).

[7] John Ball, A Friendly Triall, 58-59.

[8] Shaw, Studies, 19. See also Iain H. Murray, The Psalter – The Only Hymnal?, 13ff.

[9] The Oxford English Dictionary as cited by Pribble, 15.

[10] Chad Van Dixhoorn, Confessing the Faith, 285. The proof texts are noteworthy, especially in light of the interpretation of these verses in the above John Ball citation.

[11] Pribble, 7.

[12] See the OPC GA Report on Song in Worship: https://opc.org/GA/song.html. See also Gary Crampton, Exclusive Psalmody, https://www.trinityfoundation.org/journal.php?id=63. Note that the word “spiritual” can’t be restricted to “inspired” (see 1 Cor. 2:15; 3:1; Gal. 6:1; Eph. 6:12).

[13] T. David Gordon: “Several problems attend this reasoning about a “collection.”  First, as we mentioned earlier, the canonical Proverbs are manifestly a “collection” of wisdom-sayings.  Why, then, would we not consider them to be a complete summary of human wisdom, not needing to be supplemented by anything else?  Similarly, the OT scriptures themselves were “collected” into a canonical corpus long before the birth of Christ; so why do we need any more scriptures after this collection is given to us?  The public proclamation of Christ (or a large part of it) is collected for us in the Sermon on the Mount; does this mean that preachers today can only preach the Sermon on the Mount?  The four canonical gospels are plainly collections of material on the history of the work of Christ; does this mean we can only speak about the work of Christ in the words of the canonical gospels?”

[14] Frame, 125. Note also John Ball, pp. 58-59.

[15] Murray, 7. E.J. Young: “we are mistaken when we regard the entire Psalter as designed for the usage of the Temple. That some Psalms were so used cannot be denied, but it is interesting to note that liturgical directions are lacking for many of the Psalms. The Psalter, rather, is primarily a manual and guide and model for the devotional needs of the individual believer. It is a book of prayer and praise, to be meditated upon by the believer, that he may thereby learn to praise God and pray to Him… The Psalms in which the first person pronoun is employed are obviously designed to express primarily the experience of an individual. This fact is more and more being recognized (by, e.g., Mowinckel, Balla, and others). Of course, this does not preclude the usage of these Psalms in divine worship, but such usage is secondary. While today Christians should sing Psalms in the worship of the Church, they do great wrong to neglect the Psalter in individual devotions.” Introduction to the Old Testament, 310.

[16] Murray, 28.

[17] Lee Irons, Thoughts on Exclusive Psalmody, https://www.the-highway.com/psalmody_Irons.html.

[18] Pribble, 13. He goes on to say, “Exclusive Psalm-singers, maintain that the Scriptures require the use of inspired song in worship. But in practice the issue is not a dispute between those who use only inspired song and those who use uninspired song, for it must be remembered that there are few, if any, churches that sing or chant the Psalms right out of the Bible and reject the use of metrical paraphrases altogether.”

[19] John Ball, A Friendly Triall, 59.

[20] See T. David Gordon, Some Thoughts on Exclusive Psalmody. He writes: “Texts that teach that we are to sing praise or thanks to God, without restricting the content of such praise or thanks to canonical psalms or inspired literature. These passages are similar to those that exhort us to pray, without restricting the content of such prayer to canonical psalms or other inspired literature”: Pss. 30:4; 33:3; 47:6; 68:4; 81:1-3; 84:4; 92:1; 95:1; 98:4; 100:2; 147:7; 149:1, 5. “Texts that teach that we are to sing praise or thanks to God for His “deeds” or “works,” without specifying what those “deeds” or “works” are, and therefore, presumably, approving praise or thanks of any of His works”: Pss. 9:11; 66:1; 98:1; 105:2; see also Isa. 12:5. “Texts that teach that we are to sing praise or thanks to God for His redemptive/soteric acts, which would presumably include His supreme redemptive act in Christ”: Psa. 96:1.

[21] Iain H. Murray: “The regulative principle controls what shall or shall not be parts of worship: it is sung praise that is authorized as a part, not the very words of which that part has to be made up.” The Psalter – The Only Hymnal?, 11.

[22] Our Directory for the Public Worship of God states: “…the character of the songs used therein is to befit the nature of God and the purpose of worship…In the choice of song for public worship, great care must be taken that all the materials of song are fully in accord with the Scriptures. The words are to be suitable for the worship of God and the tunes are to be appropriate to the meaning of the words and to the occasion of public worship. Care should be taken to the end that the songs chosen will express those specific truths and sentiments which are appropriate at the time of their use in the worship service.”

[23] Edward Leigh (1603-1671): “As we may lawfully sing Scripture psalms, so also Songs and Psalms of our own…For seeing a Psalm is but a musical praier for the most part, therefore we may make Songs for our selves agreeable to the Word of God as well as prayers, and God knowing the efficacie of Poetry and Musick, to help memory and stirre up affection doth allow his people to use it for their spiritual comfort as well as natural.” A systeme or body of divinity (London, 1654), 610. See also the OPC GA Report on Song in Worship; Gordon, 30-31; Ball, pp. 55-57, where he argues that the differences between singing and praying do not negate their commonalities and therefore the argument by analogy is sound.

[24] OPC GA Report on Song in Worship: “in Col. 3:16 there is a presumption against the exclusion of New Testament songs from the songs there mentioned. Paul says, "Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, in all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs...." To the Colossians, who had lately been brought from darkness into light through the gospel message, the phrase "the word of Christ" would probably mean the gospel message about Christ. And, as the word of Christ dwells in them richly, psalms, hymns and spiritual songs will flow forth in consequence; these songs will reflect the content of the word of Christ; and by means of these songs believers are urged to teach and admonish one another in all wisdom. Thus at least some of these songs would be newly composed, either extemporaneously or as the result of some thought.”

[25] Lee Irons further notes: “Now, it is true that the Psalms speak of Christ (Luke 24:44). But surely Paul does not mean, ‘Let the Psalms’ message about Christ dwell in you as you teach and admonish one another by singing the Psalms.’ Rather, Paul is exhorting the Colossians to let the mystery, which has been kept hidden from previous generations but is now disclosed to the saints (Col. 1:26), dwell in them richly so that, through the songs that result from such reflection, they may teach and admonish one another in all the implications of that mystery.”

[26] Some have argued that Colossians Ephesians passages are not dealing with public worship, but the fact that we are to sing to one another indicates that he is referring to a worship gathering.

[27] Frame, Worship, 125. Similarly, T. David Gordon says:

 

“I suggest that the implied message of the Psalter itself is this:  That as God does new works of salvation and deliverance, His people properly respond in praise and thanks to these new works, composing new devotional material to correspond to the new acts of God.  That is, when the Israelites return from Babylon, they do not merely sing psalms about the deliverance from Egypt, even though one could certainly see the Exodus as “typical” of that later deliverance.  Rather, despite the obvious typology/analogy, they compose new songs to express their gratitude for this specific act of deliverance.  Throughout Israel’s history a three-fold pattern is evident:  Deed-Prophetic Interpretation-Song.  God acts, His prophets interpret those acts, and the people respond with appropriate song.  The “cessation” of new psalms in the OT corresponds identically with the cessation of OT revelation itself; that is, when God’s distinctive acts, prophetically interpreted, cease, the composition of new songs also ceases.  But any Israelite living in the period between the testaments would almost certainly have expected that the pattern of Deed-Prophetic Interpretation-Song would resume at the next epochal moment in her history.

 

When Christ entered human history incarnate, when he died and rose for God’s people, one would only expect, from the pattern revealed in the Psalms themselves, that there would be prophetic interpretation of this great act of God, and that there would be songs composed in response to the act.  It is for this reason that many of us reject the arguments of exclusive psalmody.  We reject them not because they have no plausibility; they have some plausibility.  But we believe they come nowhere close to bearing the burden of weight that rightly rests upon them.  How can one explain the silence of God’s people, who raised songs of praise, thanks, and lament at every comparatively-inferior moment in the history of redemption, when the supreme moment has arrived?  What has held the tongue of the once-composing-and-singing people?  What has curbed the devotional composition of a grateful people?  The song of Revelation, “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain…” is precisely what one would expect.  And yet, ostensibly, we must await heaven to sing that song.  We may sing of the Lamb typologically through canonical psalms, but we may not sing of the Lamb expressly; even though Israel could sing expressly of deliverance from Babylon, and was not restricted to singing of it typologically through Exodus-psalms.

 

Every author structures his words in a certain way.  Whether in a sonnet-form, or in descriptive narrative of various sorts, authors present their thought in certain structures.  These structures inform the reader’s expectations of the author, and this accounts for why we read a book faster in its middle and concluding chapters than we do in the introductory ones; because in the earlier ones we are learning (whether we are self-conscious of it or not) how the author is structuring his thoughts.  God is no less an author than human authors; He also structures His thoughts according to patterns that create expectations in us.  My suggestion, which I believe concords with the best of the history of the Reformed tradition, is this:  That God Himself establishes the pattern of Deed-Prophetic Interpretation-Devotional Response; God creates this expectation in us, by repeating it throughout history.  Therefore, exclusive psalmody, which disrupts this pattern at its climactic moment, must offer us more than question-begging, more than mere logical plausibility; it must assume the burden of explaining to God’s people why this pattern has now been discarded at the very moment when shadow gives way to substance.  And this, I respectfully submit, it has not done.”

[28] Iain Murray, 23.

[29] Frame, Worship, 125-126.

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Lessons from an Old Theological Controversy

 

Lessons from an Old Theological Controversy

By

D. Patrick Ramsey

 

Introduction

            Theological controversies are nothing new. Acrimonious theological controversies are not new either. One example of the latter occurred among the English Dissenters in London at the end of the seventeenth century. This controversy lasted for nearly a decade, and it focused primarily on the doctrines of justification and the atonement. Unfortunately, it disrupted the newly formed union between English Presbyterians and Congregationalists. My goal in this article, however, is not to examine the theological issues of this debate. That has been done elsewhere.[1] Instead, I would like to focus on the manner of the debate, looking at how the two sides engaged each other and how they sought to resolve their differences. There are several lessons to be gleaned from this old controversy about how to, or perhaps more accurately, how not to engage in public theological debate. I will draw out five lessons, applying them to our own day and age.[2]

 

Know When to Run

            The history of this old controversy itself provides an important lesson, which may be summed up by the words of a country song, The Gambler: “You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away, and know when to run.” 

            In 1690 the Presbyterians and Congregationalists joined forces to help one another financially with a common fund and then corporately in 1691 by uniting the ministers together on the basis of a doctrinal document. This latter union was well received by many. Matthew Mead took the occasion to preach a sermon on Ezekiel 37:19 entitled, Two Sticks Made One: Or the Excellency of Unity. Unfortunately, the celebration didn’t last long because a theological controversy that had already been brewing, in part due to the reprinting of the sermons of Tobias Crisp in 1690, would wreak havoc upon the Union.

            Besides the lecture hall, the debate played itself out in the public eye via the printing press. Although a number of people wrote on the issues, including Richard Baxter shortly before he died in 1691, it was the book by Daniel Williams (Gospel-Truth Stated and Vindicated) that became the center of debate. In this book, Williams attacked the views of Tobias Crisp, but many Congregationalists (correctly) believed it was aimed at them. They also believed that Williams went too far and expressed unorthodox views himself. In response, Isaac Chauncy published a lengthy reply to Williams in three parts entitled Neonomianism Unmask’d.  Williams responded to the first part with his A Defense of Gospel-Truth, only to be answered by Chauncy’s A Rejoynder. Robert Traill also entered the fray when he published anonymously A Vindication of the Protestant Doctrine Concerning Justification, and of its Preachers and Professors from the unjust charge of Antinomianism. This displeased a number of Presbyterians who had recommended Williams’ book and so they prevailed upon William Lorimer to pen a book length response to Traill, An Apology for the Ministers Who Subsribed only unto the Stating of The Truths and Errours in Mr. Williams’ Book.

            Many more books and pamphlets kept rolling off the presses, even after all forms of cooperation between the two sides were severed by 1695. People on both sides kept responding and replying to one another so that one gets the impression that all parties were fueled by the need for self-vindication, which could only be accomplished by having the last word.

            In reflecting upon the numerous writings of Isaac Chauncy, the Congregationalist historians, David Bogue and James Bennett, remarked: “for what controversialist will be outdone.”[3] A true statement indeed, not only of Chauncy, but also of Williams and the others.  And it is equally true of theological controversialists today. The temptation to defend ourselves or to defend our critiques continuously is a clear and present danger. Publishers and editorial policies are helpful in this regard because they compel us to stop. But now with the internet the safeguards are removed in many cases and we are free to post our reviews, responses, defenses, further defenses, rejoinders, surrejoinders and so on.

            One lesson then that we ought to learn from this past controversy is to know when to fold ’em and when to run away. We need to learn to put to death the desire to have the last word. After all, God’s truth will triumph and its success is not dependent upon our relentless and unending barrage of articles, posts, podcasts and tweets. This is not to say, of course, that all prolonged public debate is to be dismissed. The English dissenters spent a good deal of time debating the issues in order to maintain their unity and to correct error. Surely, that time was well spent even if it didn’t result in the desired outcome. And yet wisdom dictates that there is a time when the public debate should end and someone has to end it. But what controversialist will be outdone?

 

Over the Top

            Although this controversy involved godly ministers who were all part of the same but broad Reformed family—most of them had even formally united together on the basis of Reformed confessions—they did not treat one another very well during their public debate. This debate among “friends” began with a bang and only continued to get worse. Indeed, the caustic rhetoric and over the top charges were at times out of control. There is no question that the manner of this debate sullied the Dissenters’ name and cause.

            Both the Presbyterians and the Congregationalists were, of course, at fault for infusing heat into the debate and for overreaching at times. Richard Baxter did not help matters when he used the name Jezebel to refer to Tobias Crisp. Also, Daniel Williams didn’t bring calm to the brewing storm when he went overboard in his attack on Crisp, which was occasionally misguided.  Still further, the charge of antinomianism inflamed the debate. Nevertheless, the lion’s share of the blame belonged to the Congregationalists, a point observed by several historians, including Bogue and Bennett. The Congregationalists relentlessly went after Williams and accused him of not only contradicting the Thirty-nine Articles and the Westminster Standards on some doctrines but of heterodoxy and heresy: Arminianism, Semi-Socinianism/Socinianism, Pelagianism and legalism or justification by works. Williams was looked upon “as undermining the very foundation of the Gospel,”[4] and so was “run down, both from the pulpit and the press, as a notorious heretic.”[5]

            Isaac Chauncy was particularly nasty. After noting that he had been reading books all his life, Williams said that he had “never met with a Tract parallel to his [Chauncy], for abusive Language, violent Rage and uncharitable Censures.”[6] Although Williams was far from being an impartial observer, his comment should not be quickly brushed aside because even a cursory reading of Chauncy’s book will demonstrate that there is a large measure of truth to it. Bogue and Bennett pointed out that Chauncy’s “spirit was bad, and his accusations against Dr. Williams for heresy were numerous; but they were mostly as weak as they were bitter.”[7] Chauncy even coined a new term “Neonomianism” in order to “disgrace Dr. Williams’s sentiments, and his book.”[8]

            Of all the heated writing produced by this controversy, and there was a lot of it, J.I. Packer has observed that Robert Traill’s pamphlet was the best and the coolest.[9] The Presbyterians, however, did not share Packer’s assessment. In fact, Edmund Calamy described it as “angry letter,”[10] commenting that with its appearance “the hopes of a free brotherly Correspondence vanish’d away.”[11] The Presbyterians were furious with Traill in part because they understood him to be accusing them of rationalism, Arminianism, Pelagianism, Popery and of corrupting the gospel. At one point in his letter Traill presented himself and his cohorts as being the true proclaimers and defenders of the gospel and the Reformed faith; while the Presbyterians had imbibed Arminian schemes of the gospel, vilified and contemned their opponents, and were probably closet Pelagians and Arminians. Traill even suggested that their true colors would soon be exposed and that the people they had “seduced by their craft” would then turn on them.[12] Contrary to Packer, Traill’s letter was anything but cool. 

            The fact of the matter is that Williams and his fellow moderate Presbyterians such as John Howe and William Bates were not Pelagians or Arminians. David Field has recently shown that they were “committed to the fundamentals of a Calvinist theology.”[13] Though it may be true that they veered somewhat from some forms or formulas of Calvinism, the Congregationalists overreached with their accusations of heresy, which in turn made their heated rhetoric unnecessary, even ridiculous.

            Unfortunately, in-house theological debates do seem to bring out the worst in theologians. Robert Traill noted, somewhat ironically as we have seen, that “it is a sad but true observation, That no contentions are more easily kindled, more fiercely pursued, and more hardly composed, than those of divines; sometimes from their zeal for truth; and sometimes from worse principles, that may act in them, as well as in other men.”[14] In reflecting upon this statement Peter Toon quipped, “will theologians ever learn?”[15] 

            Another lesson then that should be gleaned from this controversy is that we need to be careful to avoid using over the top language. Overreaching is a sign of a lack of charity or incompetence or both. Consequently, it makes the accuser and his position look bad. And if he is on the side of truth, then he, instead of his message, will be the reason people stumble at the truth. Furthermore, if you come out with both guns blazing then you will squelch constructive dialogue and diminish the chances of an edifying resolution. This is not to say that you shouldn’t argue your case or even that you shouldn’t do so vigorously. Present your case well for what you believe and why you believe your opponent is in error. But do so without the inflammatory and excessive language. 

            Sadly, the use of exaggerated language in debate is something that we still witness today.  The internet surely has helped us in this regard. In the 1690’s one had to wait for the next pamphlet to come off the presses or for the next lecture to be given. But now the publication of outrageous theological discourse is one click away. Peter Toon was right to ask: will theologians ever learn?

 

The Personal Side of Polemics

            One of the striking yet sad features of this debate was the evident personal animosity towards Daniel Williams. Although John Flavel also wrote against Antinomianism, including some of the views of Tobias Crisp, he and his book did not become the center of a decade long controversy. That honor belonged to Williams. Ostensibly, the reason the Congregationalists lashed out at Williams was that he went beyond refuting antinomian doctrines and added his own unbiblical ones. To borrow the words of Robert Traill, they were motived by a “zeal for truth.” While there is no reason to doubt this, I do think it is fair to say that this debate was not just about the truth. It was personal. People didn’t merely dislike Williams’ views, they disliked him. The debate wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did; it wouldn’t have been focused on Williams; and it wouldn’t have been so acrimonious if it had been simply about defending the truth amid error. Personal animosity infected the controversy from the beginning. The details of this episode will bear this out.

            Daniel Williams’ views on the controverted subjects were well known before the Presbyterians and Congregationalists joyfully joined together and the publication of his book Gospel-Truth. Furthermore, Williams was for the most part successful in his stated purpose of avoiding contentious aspects of his teachings, or those of his fellow Presbyterians, in his book. Yet, it sparked a firestorm. If zeal for the truth were the whole matter, then Chauncy and company would not have joined the Union in the first place and Williams’ book wouldn’t have set them off. But it did and they continued to go after Williams in a vindictive manner. Chauncy published a caustic and protracted critique wherein he accused Williams of dishonesty among other things. New members were enrolled at Pinners-Hall for the sole purpose of ousting Williams from the lectureship. Two months after his dismissal, Williams had to endure a smear campaign as he was accused of sexual immorality by some of his most ardent detractors. After an eight-week inquiry he was fully vindicated.

            By no means was Williams alone in his views. Other moderate and leading Presbyterians such as John Howe and William Bates were basically on the same page theologically. Nonetheless, Williams took all the heat. An early attempt at reunion was very short-lived in part because the Congregationalists believed that the Presbyterians were determined to support Williams “in his Errors,” despite the fact that Williams had subscribed to a document that was a compilation of confessional passages addressing the controverted subjects.[16] In another attempt at reunion, the Presbyterians asked and received from the Congregationalists a list of errors that needed to be renounced. They then added to it a number of errors concerning Antinomianism. The combined list was unanimously accepted by the Presbyterians, including Williams, and sent to the Congregationalists. This effort to bring both parties back together was disregarded in part because it did not contain a renunciation of Williams. Affirming confessional orthodoxy and repudiating heterodoxy and heresy were insufficient. A person, not just error, had to be denounced.  This continued to be the case throughout the controversy. Williams was the sticking point at every turn and attempt at reunion. The debate was not just about defending the truth.  It was deeply personal.  

            Divisive personalities are not foreign to heated and protracted public disputes. But why Williams, and not Howe or Bates, generated so much animosity is hard to tell with any degree of certainty. Perhaps it was his ardent zeal to combat anything that smelled of antinomianism, a trait acknowledged by his friends; or his role as a leader among the Dissenters; or his Presbyterianism; or his personality; or a combination of these and other factors. Regardless, the hostility directed towards Williams was sinful and destructive in many ways. Besides the hurt it inflicted upon Williams personally, the hatred his opponents had for him was a major stumbling block to reconciliation. This was so because hatred produces an inability to see the truth clearly. Unsurprisingly, Williams’ opponents continued to misrepresent his beliefs even after his many clarifications and explanations. Commenting upon 1 John 2:11, John Stott wrote: “Hatred distorts our perspective. We do not first misjudge people and then hate them as a result; our view of them is already jaundiced by our hatred.”[17] This is the problem with the personal side of polemics. Disdain for a particular individual will make you see heresy where there is no heresy; and it will keep you from seeing your own erroneous judgments.

            Another lesson then that we need to learn from this controversy is to be on our guard for hatred in our hearts toward our brethren with whom we vigorously disagree. Traill was correct to note that theologians engage in debate out of zeal for truth but also “sometimes from worse principles.”[18] How can we know if we are acting out of “worse principles”? Well, wise friends should be able to give us an honest evaluation. Also, we could check for possible signs of hatred such as overreaching and a constant need to critique a particular person. Unfortunately, if hatred is our problem then we will probably be deaf to our friends and blind to any signs. So perhaps the best thing to do is to do what we are already commanded to do, namely, love. Focus on loving your opponent. Love will dissipate any hatred you might have in your heart. It will also enable you to see clearly and so become a good controversialist. As Stott has written, “It is love which sees straight, thinks clearly and makes us balanced in our outlook, judgments and conduct.”[19]

            Thus, the way to combat the personal side of polemics is to get personal. Don’t merely spend time getting to know the views of your opponent, get to know your opponent. If possible, spend time with him. Pray for him and his family. Serve him. Love him. During the 1540’s John Calvin and Heinrich Bullinger exchanged some heated letters debating the meaning of the Lord’s Supper. However, they were able to unite together rather quickly around a joint statement (Consensus Tigurinus) in 1549. According to Diarmaid MacCulloch, what helped bring them together was Bullinger’s gentle and pastoral ministry to Calvin after his wife had died.[20] A concrete and meaningful act of love changed the dynamic in their relationship and enabled them to constructively work out their theological differences. More recently, I heard about two Reformed churches that were at odds with one another theologically, which in turn created tension in the Presbytery. One of the churches noticed that the other church had a need and decided to meet it with a generous gift of a beautiful piano. That act of kindness went a long way in reconciling the two parties. Love, indeed, is a powerful antidote to the acrimony generated from a theological controversy. 

            The danger of personal animosity tainting theological debate is ever present. The line between zeal for truth and hostility towards a brother or sister in Christ is not always easily detected. So, watch and pray, and put on love, being eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

 

Party Spirit

            If a theological debate has been infected with personal animosity and filled with over the top accusations and charges, then you will most likely find a party spirit, which will only further enflame the controversy. Like everyone else, theologians do not tend to denounce their friends in public even if they disagree with them, and they tend to support them publicly when they are charged with serious error or called heretics. This is true, not only for our personal friends, but also for our theological, institutional and ecclesiastical friends. We naturally circle the wagons when someone on our side of the aisle comes under heavy fire. By the same token, we do not hesitate to go after someone who is not a personal friend or part of our group. While we may like to think that we are solely motivated by a holy zeal for the truth, our actions often reveal otherwise. We are not so different from the saints in Corinth as we would like to believe (1 Cor. 1:10-17; 3:1-ff). The debate between the Dissenters in the 1690’s is a perfect example of a theological controversy mired down by a party spirit.

            Sixteen Presbyterians endorsed the first edition of Daniel Williams’ controversial book Gospel-Truth. Williams attempted to get some Congregationalists to endorse it but they all declined, including Matthew Mead who had originally expressed his agreement with it.  Incidentally, one of the reasons that Williams gave for seeking endorsements was that “People do oft value Names more than Arguments.”[21] Judging from the endless book endorsements that we find today on the cover and the inside pages, it doesn’t seem that much has changed. Nevertheless, that only the Presbyterians endorsed Williams’ book was a sign of things to come and evidence that people were already sticking together along party lines. 

            Once the controversy exploded with the publication of Gospel-Truth, the Presbyterians rallied around Williams. The second edition contained forty-nine signatures, an increase of thirty-three.  Encouraged by a number of ministers, William Lorimer wrote an entire book to vindicate Williams and the Presbyterians who had signed his book. Several other books and pamphlets were published in defense of Williams. After Williams was ousted from the lectureship at Pinners’ Hall, the remaining Presbyterian lecturers walked out with Williams and started a rival lectureship at Salters’ Hall even though the Congregationalists pleaded with them to stay. There they were joined by Samuel Annesley and Richard Mayo. It is noteworthy that Annesley joined Williams at Salters’ Hall because he had not endorsed Williams’ book and is considered to be a high Calvinist. Undoubtedly, Annesley differed with Williams on some things, yet he chose to side with his fellow Presbyterian over against the Congregationalists. Indeed, Annesley was not the only Presbyterian who would have differed from Williams on some matters. Yet, they all stood with him even when it meant they had to sacrifice reunion with the Congregationalists.

            The Congregationalists also supported one another. After Chauncy and some other Congregationalists expressed their displeasure with Williams to the United Ministers, an attempt at reconciliation was made. A doctrinal statement focusing on the controversial issues was put together and subscribed to by both Chauncy and Williams. Unity, however, was not forthcoming because a further statement was accepted, which indicated that the United Ministers had not endorsed everything in Williams’ book as well as Chauncy’s writings on this controversy. Some Congregationalists saw this as a rebuke to Chauncy, leading them to believe that it was the “firm purpose of the Governing Party of the United Ministers, to Uphold and Justifie Mr. Williams in his Errors.”[22] The Congregationalists thus rallied around Chauncy even as they believed the Presbyterians were rallying around Williams.

            The party spirit may also be seen in the way they treated one another. Like Thomas Manton, and many others, Daniel Williams knew and consequently greatly appreciated Richard Baxter. Thus, when Chauncy cited a passage from Baxter’s writings in order to question Williams’ own orthodoxy, Williams unsurprisingly read Baxter in a positive light, even though he admitted that Baxter didn’t always express his views well and that he didn’t always agree with Baxter. Williams, however, did not treat Crisp in the same way. He wrote an entire book on Crisp’s errors and tore to shreds every infelicitous phrase. What Williams gave, he received in abundance from Chauncy and Traill. They defended Crisp and recommended his writings without embracing all of his expressions, and they (mostly Chauncy) wrote voluminous material against Williams, wherein they interpreted his statements in the worst possible light. 

            The party spirit that reared its ugly head in the 1690’s is sometimes seen today and one problem with it is that it clouds our judgment. Our admiration for our friends and mentors keeps us from seeing or at least being willing to properly address and if necessary, publicly reject their errors. We can go to great and complex lengths in order to keep our mentor and friends within the bounds of confessional orthodoxy; and we can become eerily silent when they make outlandish statements that ought to be unequivocally rejected. 

            Another closely related problem is partiality. We go soft on those in our group and harsh with those who are not. We overlook a multitude of sins for our friends and shine the light on the tiniest of infractions of our opponents. We don’t utter a word about the tone and temper of those on our side, even though everyone else notices how bad it is, but then we are quick to rebuke our opponents for their sinful tone and temper. We trust and think the best of those who are in our camp, even when they make questionable theological moves; but we are suspicious and think the worst of those who are not, especially when they refuse to throw their controversial friends and mentors under the bus.

            How then are we to deal with a party spirit in theological controversy? Well, it is probably worth pointing out the obvious that it is not wrong to have friends and to treat them in a friendly manner. Fellowship with people of like mind and heart is indeed sweet. Nor is it wrong for people to align with one side or another of a controversy because of shared beliefs. The problem is not parties per se, but a party spirit. And the way to deal with that is the same way we need to deal with personal animosity. We need to love our theological opponents. 

            As I have reflected upon this old controversy and as I observe current ones, I have often wondered what would happen if people treated their theological opponents in the same way they treated their theological friends. I dare say that most theological debates would disappear, at least from the public sphere. Certainly, the rush to publish a biting critique on Facebook, Twitter or a blog would slow down since we don’t normally do that sort of thing to our friends. But even if we did continue to debate publicly, our conversations would be more edifying because we would go out of our way to understand one another, and we would be careful not to go overboard. Perhaps we need to treat our friends more like our opponents and our opponents more like our friends. Regardless, we need to truly love friend and foe alike.

            Love speaks the truth in love. It does not flatter or tear down. Love is also universal and impartial. It isn’t kind to one group of people and ruthless to another. Love loves all. It, therefore, is not only a powerful antidote to personal animosity, it is also strong enough to wipe out the nefarious effects of a party spirit.

 

Broaden Your Horizons

            The Presbyterians and the Congregationalists had an extremely difficult time working through their theological differences. There are a number of reasons for this, some of which we have already considered, but one was that they approached the issues from opposite perspectives. Our theological views, or at least our theological emphases and expressions, are in part shaped and informed by our understanding of the times in which we live. What we see as threatening problems in the church will influence, not only what we believe, but how and how often we articulate our beliefs. The reverse is true as well. Our theological opinions and proclivities will affect our vision of the major problems plaguing the church. The opposing perspectives of the two parties of this old controversy impaired their view of each other, making it nearly impossible to work out their differences.

            The chief problem that Daniel Williams saw in his own circles was that of Antinomianism. He believed that this was a serious theological error and that it was making inroads among the Dissenters including several ministers. As a pastor, he was more concerned for the laypeople than the ministers who advocated this error because the latter “have Grace to preserve their Minds and Practices,” but the former had “no such Antidote.”[23] As a churchman, Williams was grieved by the schism created by Antinomianism. He reported that “faithful Ministers [like William Bates and even the Congregationalist Matthew Mead] were deserted as Legalists, Churches divided, and Town and Country filled with Debates and Noise.”[24] Furthermore, he was anxious to protect the reputation of the Dissenters. Antinomianism in those days was tied, rightly or wrongly, to moral and social chaos. In order to protect their present liberty and to maintain the slight hope of rejoining the Church of England, Williams wanted to make it crystal clear that he and his colleagues had nothing to do with Antinomianism. For a host of reasons, then, Williams strongly believed that it was necessary to go after Antinomianism and go after it with vigor. Consequently, his formulations of various doctrines were designed to counter this error.

            Robert Traill, on the other hand, saw things quite differently. He didn’t think Antinomianism was on the rise at all. After scouring the scene, he confidently declared that he didn’t know “any one Antinomian minister or Christian in London.”[25] In fact, he believed that the far more common danger is and always will be Arminianism because it is “far more natural to all men.” He acknowledged that some people in the past had been seduced by Antinomianism and maybe some in his own day, but he believed that this error “is but a meteor or comet, that will soon blaze out, and its folly will be quickly hissed off the stage.”[26] The real danger that the church always needs to be on the lookout for is Arminianism, and Traill saw the Presbyterians as one of the purveyors of it in his own day. As a pastor, he was deeply concerned to defend the gospel and to protect laypeople from a corrupt gospel. In addition, he believed that the Presbyterians were creating trouble with their treatment of the Congregationalists. For similar reasons as Williams, then, Traill believed it was necessary to go on the offensive against the Arminian doctrine of the Presbyterians. Also, as was the case with Williams and Antinomianism, Traill’s formulations of various doctrines reflected his singular focus against Arminianism.

            Opposites, in this case, didn’t attract. Anti-Arminian doctrine looked suspiciously like Antinomian doctrine to an Anti-Antinomian such as Williams; while Anti-Antinomian doctrine looked like Arminian/Neonomian doctrine to an Anti-Arminian such as Traill. Thus, when they looked at each other they didn’t see a mistaken view that should co-exist within a broad Reformed family; they saw a dangerous error afflicting a vulnerable church that needed to be eradicated at all costs. What do we do in such a volatile situation? We need to broaden our horizons in at least three areas. 

            First, we need to force ourselves to look at the issues from our opponents’ perspective and carefully consider and address their concerns. If we are not in tune with what is driving our opponents and vice versa then discord, rather than harmony, will be the order of the day. This is what happened to the Presbyterians and Congregationalists at the end of the seventeenth century in London.

            After a failed attempt at reunion, the Presbyterians, tried again by asking the Congregationalists the reasons for their departure. The Congregationalists responded with a list of errors related to Arminianism that they believed needed to be rejected. The Presbyterians received them but also wanted their own concerns addressed and so added to the list a number of errors pertaining to Antinomianism. They then sent the full list of errors to the Congregationalists. The Congregationalists, however, ignored this communication because they firmly believed that Arminianism was the only problem. They were convinced that the Presbyterians needed to reject Arminianism, but that they were under no obligation to repudiate Antinomianism. Their utter disregard for the theological concerns of the Presbyterians was unloving as it was unwise. It displayed contempt for the Presbyterians and cast a shadow upon their own orthodoxy. Consequently, it further damaged their relationship and the likelihood of reunion. Eventually, the Congregationalists did address the issue of Antinomianism with a tract in 1699 but only after it was far too late.   

            The second way we need to broaden our horizons is in regard to our own outlook and ministry.  Our theology will be skewed or unbalanced if we are focused on one particular error (or truth). For example, in the arena of soteriology, if our chief (or only) concern is Arminianism, as it was for the Congregationalists, then we will tend to stress the sovereignty of God to the detriment of human responsibility. By the same token, if we primarily worry about Antinomianism, as it was for the Presbyterians, then we will tend to stress human responsibility to the detriment to the sovereignty of God. The truth of the matter is that we need to be equally concerned about both errors. Anthony Burgess once insightfully said that every person has a Pope and an Antinomian “in his belly.”[27] If the Congregationalists had been as concerned about Antinomianism as they were about Arminianism, and the Presbyterians as concerned about Arminianism as they were about Antinomianism then the two sides might well have been able to reconcile their differences. 

            A third and final way we need to broaden our horizons is to recognize and tolerate different formulations of Christian doctrine. In his final book on this controversy, Williams noted that the Congregationalists and Presbyterians formulated the doctrine of justification differently.  But he also recognized, particularly in light of the Congregationalists’ tract repudiating Antinomian errors, that they did not differ from each other as much as some “weak persons” suggested.[28] However, for the two parties to come together, especially on the matter of justification, they both had to be willing to recognize their differences as minor and be willing to tolerate them. Unfortunately, there were many in this debate that were reluctant or unable to do that.

            One of the key lessons that I have learned from my historical studies is that the Reformed tradition is much broader than I had once thought. The Reformed didn’t always agree with one another and not just on secondary matters but also on important and fundamental doctrines like justification, atonement and Theology Proper. Unity, in the presence of disagreement, will thus require a certain amount of breadth and toleration. This is as true in the seventeenth century as it is today.

            When the going gets tough in theological controversy, the tough get some perspective.  They look at the issues from their opponents’ point of view and consider their concerns. They are careful to avoid being one sided in their theological views and pastoral ministry. And they are willing to tolerate differences within acceptable limits. In short, good controversialists, broaden their horizons.

 

Conclusion

            The controversy that tore apart the union between the Presbyterians and Congregationalists in London was a low point in the history of English Dissenters. This is true, not so much for the matter of the debate as for the manner of it. People on both sides did not conduct themselves well, to say the least. It is a sad but true fact that Christians do at times treat each other in the most despicable way and the damage done to the name of Christ, to the truth and to one another is real and long-lasting. 

            This sad episode from the 1690’s, however, is not irredeemable. Since we are sinners who continue to debate the same important biblical truths, we are able to learn from their example and so, by the grace of God, learn not to repeat their mistakes. In this essay, we have gleaned a number lessons, which if taken to heart, will hopefully be of some use in our current debates and controversies.



[1] Peter Toon, Puritans and Calvinism (Seoul: Westminster Publishing House, n.d.), 85-101; D. Patrick Ramsey, “Meet Me in the Middle: Herman Witsius and the English Dissenters,” Mid-America Journal of Theology 19 (2008): 143-164; Anti-Antinomianism: The Polemical Theology of Daniel Williams, Westminster Theological Seminary, unpublished M.Th. Thesis, 2011.

[2] The bulk of this material originated as a series of articles posted at www.meetthepuritans.com. 

[3] David Bogue and James Bennett, History of Dissenters (London: 1808), 1:405.

[5] Walter Wilson, The History and Antiquities of Dissenting Churches (London: Walter Wilson, 1808), 2:202.

[6] Daniel Williams, “To the Reader,” in A Defense of Gospel-Truth (London: John Dunton, 1693).

[7] Bogue and Bennent, History, 1:404.

[8] Idem.

[9] J.I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness: The Puritan Vision of the Christian Life (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1990), 158.

[10] Edmund Calamy, An Historical Account of My Own Life (London: Henry Colburn and Richard Bentley, 1830), 1:324.

[11] Edmund Calamy, An Abridgment of Mr. Baxter’s History of his Life and Times, 2nd ed. (London: John Lawrence, 1713), 516.

[12] Robert Traill, The Works of Robert Traill (1810; reprint Choteau, MT: Old Paths-Gospel Press, n.d.), 1:265.

[13] David P. Field, Rigide Calvinisme in a Softer Dresse (Edinburgh: Rutherford House, 2004), 161.

[14] Traill, Works, 1:253.

[15] Peter Toon, Puritans and Calvinism, 100.

[16] [Richard Taylor], A History of the Union Between the Presbyterian and Congregational Ministers in and about London; and the Causes of the Breach of it (London: 1698), 22.

[17] John Stott, The Letters of John, Rev. Ed.  (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1988), 100.

[18] Traill, Works, 1:253.

[19] Stott, The Letters of John, 100.

[20] Diarmaid MacCulloch, The Reformation: A History (New York, Penguin Books, 2003), 251.

[21] Williams, “To the Reader,” in Defense.

[22] [Taylor], A History of the Union, 22.

[23] Daniel Williams, “To the Reader,” in Gospel-Truth Stated and Vindicated: Wherein some of Dr. Crisp’s Opinions Are Considered; And The Opposite Truths Are Plainly Stated and Confirmed (London: John Dunton, 1692).

[24] Daniel Williams, “To the Reader,” in A Defense of Gospel-Truth (London: John Dunton, 1693).

[25] Traill, Works, 1:281.

[26] Ibid, 1:279.

[27] Anthony Burgess, A Vindication of the Morall Law and the Covenants (London: James Young for Thomas Underhill, 1646), 47.

[28] Daniel Williams, An End to Discord (London: John Lawrence, 1699), 98.

On Singing Hymns

NOTE: The following is part of a pastoral letter/paper that was written to address a lengthy letter that was sent out to members of my cong...