"One Holy Local Church"?

The Ghettoization of Protestantism

Bojidar Marinov

• Publisher: New Liberty Mission
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781635870329
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Systematic Theology & Ethics

The concept of “local church membership” hardly existed in the church before the 17th century Baptists, except for certain heretical sects and Anabaptists. Yes, the concept of “church membership” has existed from the very beginning. The concept of “local congregation” has existed from the very beginning. The theology of “there is no salvation outside the church” has existed from the very beginning; hence, the command for Christians to “join the church” in a covenant, which is the Covenant of Grace. That joining the Church, though, was done through the same means a man joined the Covenant of Grace: baptism. Through baptism, man joined the universal Church. The modern church, through a combination of political pressure and a move bychurch leaders to insulate themselves from accountability, has led to the widespread adoption of "local church membership" and related practices over the past century or so by non-Baptists as well. But this was not the way of the early church, Christendom, or the Reformation.

1. Introduction

I need to start with a disclaimer: while this article began a commentary on a quotation by Jeff Durbin, pastor of Apologia Church, Tempe, Arizona, it is not in any way an assessment of the person of Jeff Durbin, and it is not in any way an assessment of his ministry, nor is that the focus. I know very little about his person (having met him only once), and I know even less about his ministry. I don’t follow it, and what I know, I know from testimonies of other people. I get the general impression that it is a good and legitimate ministry, beneficial to a number of people.

I also should say about the specific quotation I will be discussing, I don’t know what its specific context is. It is a Facebook status, so one can only guess what the context is. My guess, given some developments of the last couple of years, is that the quotation was directed against Abolish Human Abortion (AHA), for some of the specific accusations closely match the accusations Jeff and his associates have been leveling against AHA. I am not trying to defend AHA here, although, I must mention, I have never been able to understand this bitter hostility against them; and neither do I understand the accusations against them. I know Jeff Durbin has his own pro-life organization which he is trying to get off the ground, and I heartily hope and pray he succeeds; but why it has to go with bashing AHA still evades me. It may become clear after reading this booklet.

As part of this disclaimer, I am indeed partial to AHA for many reasons. One is personal: all of my best friends are Abolitionists. Another is missional: They achieve results, and that at almost zero cost. Another one is ethical: These are courageous folks, and I value courage anywhere I see it. Another one I could call “psychological”: I prefer to work in a setting of equal-in-rank co-workers, each of whom knows what he is doing; I get tired in an environment of “leaders” and “followers.” I reject the “leader-follower” model even in my mission field in Bulgaria, where everyone believes I am a “leader” because I have founded the mission. AHA is exactly that kind of organization of co-workers, which exactly suits my preferences. So I admit, I am partial. But then again, I may be mistaken, and the quotation may not be even related to them. Either way, none of the following analysis is personal, and none is addressed at Jeff Durbin’s ministry. So, if any reader is quick to take offense, relax, sit down, and read what I really have to say.

What is more important is that the quotation has certain theological and ecclesiological content. And this content is based on certain presuppositions, as well as certain historical origins. It also leads to certain practical conclusions. What I argue in this article is that the quotation displays a particular theology, peculiar to Baptists, that many have adopted by inertia, and which has become the dominant paradigm in the modern Reformed churches, but also that few have stopped to consider either its presuppositions or the conclusions from enatiled by it. The London Confession (as we shall see) carries an ecclesiology that has been introduced only recently in the Reformed world, is based on a fallacious ideology, and has proven destructive to the Reformed churches. So, my purpose with this article is to invite Jeff Durbin to consider the origin and the destructive consequences of that ecclesiology and change his commitments and beliefs accordingly. I need to add, I would not have paid attention to what he said if it wasn’t brought to my desk by at least a dozen friends who asked me for my opinion. So I guess the quotation has gained some popularity—and therefore the dangers of its fallacious theology need to be addressed to prevent future destruction to the church.

Jeff’s direct words are as follows:

Facebook is filled with “Facebook Prophets”. These are people who aren’t a part of the local church but insist on giving biblical insight and wisdom to those who are actually a part of God’s design for believers: corporate worship, communion, under the care of pastors, etc. The Bible can be a dangerous thing in the hands of those who despise authority, aren’t involved in the life of the body, and act like renegades. We are wise to avoid the “insight” of people who refuse to participate in the most fundamental part of the life of a Christian: the local church. God gave us one another for a reason. If we don’t love the church, we don’t love Jesus.

The sentiment is nothing new (although, it is relatively new in church history, as we will see), and it is accepted by inertia by almost every single person today who in one way or another attains to some position of authority in the church—or, rather, to be more precise, some position of legal power in the church.¹ This sentiment is based on several assumptions. First, it assumes that the local church is the same thing as the church—hence the keen emphasis the local church. Second, it assumes that the visible and the invisible church are identical. Third, it assumes that being under formally ordained church government is mandatory—and if one is not, therefore he “despises authority.” And fourth, it assumes that God will only correct His Church through formally instituted human bureaucracies within the church, and never through other means.

All these, in the final account, rest on one single concept: the doctrine of “local church membership.” Or, as it is known in some Reformed churches today, “local church covenant.” Remove that concept, and the above four assumptions disintegrate. So, I will focus my analysis on the concept of mandatory “local church membership”—its history, its theology, and its consequences—and will also cover the above assumptions.

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1. As I argue in my article, “Modern Presbyterianism and the Destruction of the Principle of Plurality of Elders,” there is a difference between authority and legal power, and modern churches have replaced authority with power. http://www.christendomrestored.com/blog/2016/02/modern-presbyterianism-and-the-destruction-of-the-principle-of-plurality-of-elders/

2. Baptist Half-Way Confessionalism

In the insistence on local church membership, or “being part of the local church,” it looks like Jeff Durbin is in accord with the Baptist tradition and Reformed Baptist confessionalism. Mandatory “local church membership” is indeed an integral part of the Baptist tradition. And it’s not just tradition. It is in fact specifically codified in what we can call The Last Great Reformed Baptist Confession, namely, the London Baptist Confession of Faith of 1689.

The 1689 Baptist Confession was based on the Westminster Confession of 1647, and follows it almost word for word, except in the chapter for baptism, and in a few other places, specifically the chapter, “Of the Church” (ch. 25 in the WCF; ch. 26 in the LBCF). The changes in that chapter are enormously significant. Where the WCF speaks in only six articles and sees nothing more than the universal church, leaving the issue of local congregations to non-confessional standards, the LBCF has 15 articles, of which 11 specifically outline the form, the membership, the government, and many other specific features of local churches. This is a very clear line of separation between Presbyterian/Congregationalist confessionalism on one hand and Baptist confessionalism on the other. Contrary to what many assume, Presbyterianism allows for much greater liberty when it comes to ecclesiastical forms—even though we will see later that modern Presbyterian denominations differ substantially in their view of church government and membership. As for Baptists, they are confessionally bound to a very specific view of church membership by their own Confession. The language is particularly strong in this regard:

In the execution of this power wherewith he is so intrusted, the Lord Jesus calleth out of the world unto himself, through the ministry of his word, by his Spirit, those that are given unto him by his Father, that they may walk before him in all the ways of obedience, which he prescribeth to them in his word. Those thus called, he commandeth to walk together in particular societies, or churches, for their mutual edification, and the due performance of that public worship, which he requireth of them in the world (LBCF 26:5; emphasis added).

The Confession does not offer a single Bible verse which plainly teaches such a “command.” Later Baptist theologians admit that there is no such Biblical verse. Even John Macarthur, for all his insistence on “church membership,” admits that the Bible never speaks of it.² Modern Presbyterian theologians who support the concept of mandatory “local church membership” also admit that there is no verse that explicitly teaches such “local church membership.” The strongest Biblical argument for such “membership” that was used at the time was Acts 2:41–42; but the text clearly does not speak of such local church covenant. (How exactly did they organize a “local church” of thousands of people, out of all those diverse nations, within the narrow constraints of Jerusalem?) Nowhere else in the Bible is there anything to suggest any form of special covenantal commitment to a local body that is different, separate from, or superadded to the Covenant of Grace made with the universal church in general in baptism.

Keep in mind, this was written by the same group which rejected infant baptism because they did not see any specific command for it in Scripture. It sounds schizophrenic that they would mandate local church membership without an explicit command in Scripture. We will see later why the English Baptists had to go down this road. For now, let’s remember that Confessions, while important, are not perfectly reliable. They are always a mixture of correct and incorrect interpretations, they often have current pragmatic considerations included in them, and they are often self-contradictory, especially in those parts where they deviate from the Word of God, or try to force an interpretation on it.

Even if we ignore for now this lack of Biblical proofs, another problem appears. While Baptist churches today may insist on the membership clause of the Confession, they avoid abiding by another clause: that of leadership. The question is: how does one define such a local congregation? One can become a member of any congregation, but more importantly, how does one know which congregation is a real congregation? How do we know that Apologia is a real congregation? Obviously, being a “member” of just anything that claims to be a “local congregation” will not do: can one be a member of a Mormon “congregation”? The LBCF has a definition, and it is a definition based specifically on distinction of classes within the local congregation:

A particular church, gathered and completely organized according to the mind of Christ, consists of officers and members; and the officers appointed by Christ to be chosen and set apart by the church (so called and gathered), for the peculiar administration of ordinances, and execution of power or duty, which he intrusts them with, or calls them to, to be continued to the end of the world, are bishops or elders, and deacons (LBCF 26:8).

The existence of elders in the church, therefore, makes it legitimate. But how are they chosen? How do we know that certain particular elders are legitimate and therefore their particular church is legitimate? How do we know that Jeff Durbin is a legitimate elder whose ministry makes his local church legitimate? The very next article gives the Baptist answer:

The way appointed by Christ for the calling of any person, fitted and gifted by the Holy Spirit, unto the office of bishop or elder in a church, is, that he be chosen thereunto by the common suffrage of the church itself; and solemnly set apart by fasting and prayer, with imposition of hands of the eldership of the church, if there be any before constituted therein. . . . [emphasis added.]

So, here is the argument: You must join a local church. You will know it is a local church if it has elders. If it doesn’t have elders, it can appoint itself elders, and thus will be a local church.

Problem: before it has elders, is it a church? If it is, why does the Confession say otherwise? If it is not—because it doesn’t have elders—what are you joining, and why? The authors of the LCBF, obviously, deviated from the Bible by placing on their flocks and members a burden that the Bible does not. But any such deviation from the Bible inevitably creates logical contradictions in thought and practice. Thus, they created a conundrum for future generations of Baptists. The result is that no one really knows whether a group that calls itself a “Baptist church” is really a Baptist church. Is Apologia a real church? If yes, by what standard? Because it has elders? Are these elders legitimate? How do we know? How does Jeff know that the people he criticizes are “not part of a local church”? By the standard of the LBCF, in any group of at least two, if one of them is “chosen thereunto by the common suffrage of the church itself,” such a person is just as much a legitimate elder as Jeff Durbin. Or, otherwise, just as much an illegitimate elder as Jeff Durbin, depending on which direction we be consistent.

This conundrum is well-known to all Baptist ministers who claim to be confessional. No one can know if any of them are really legitimate church ministers. Is John McArthur legitimate? Who knows? Is Franklin Graham legitimate? Was he “chosen thereunto” by his father . . . but is his father legitimate? That is why, when it comes to chapter 26, all “confessional” Baptist ministers are actually half-confessional: confessional when they impose the burden of “membership” on their members, but silent when they must prove their own authority is legitimate in any consistent way. In the final account, it is often one’s media presence and influence that “legitimizes” a minister. This conundrum, therefore, is also where the origin of the modern celebrity worship is.

The early Baptists understood this conundrum and sought a solution. Originally, the solution was to return to the Roman and Eastern Orthodox argument of “apostolic succession.” Believe it or not, for two and half centuries, Baptists held to the same view of legitimacy of authority as the Papists: a succession of laying on of hands in Baptist churches from the time of Christ to our own day. (In fact, I remember a Baptist missionary in Bulgaria in the early 1990s, arguing with an Eastern Orthodox priest as to who had a greater claim to apostolic succession.) The theory was called “Baptist perpetuity” and was extremely popular among the rank-and-file Baptists in the United States. In the second half of the 19^th century, a number of Baptist scholars started refuting this as a myth. The change was not always peaceful. William Whitsitt, professor at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, was forced to resign in 1899, after he proved from historical sources that English Baptists did not practice immersion before 1641. Even after the theory of Baptist perpetuity was thoroughly refuted by scholars, the myth continued to live on at the popular level. In 1931, James Milton Carroll, a Baptist pastor from Texas, published a small book which remains popular among many Baptists to this day: The Trail of Blood. In it, he made the case for an unbroken succession of Baptist churches and ministers from the Apostles. His list of Baptists in history, however, included even openly heretical groups like the Cathari, the Albigenses, the Paulicians, etc. As strange as it sounds that a Baptist minister might countenance such groups, in our day, John MacArthur has recognized such connections with heretical groups in the past.³ There is a good reason for it: apostolic succession seems to solve the conundrum planted in the Confession. At the cost of consistency, however.

Historical evidence against this myth of Baptist perpetuity was too st...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• 1. Introduction
• 2. Baptist Half-Way Confessionalism
• 3. The Anabaptism of Modern Presbyterians
• 4. Prebysterian Theology Rejects Mandatory Membership
• 5. State-Imposed Ghettoization
• 6. The Eschatology of Self-Encapsulation
• 7. God of Lone Rangers, Destroyer of Systems
• 8. The Modern Mythologies of “Submission,” “Accountability,” and “Church Discipline”
• 9. Submission to Church Bureaucrats is not in the Bible
• 10. The Priesthood of all Believers, and the Right and Duty of Private Judgment
• 11. The Nature and Structure of the New Testament Church
• 12. The Biblical Way of Church Discipline
• 13. Conclusion