Jesus said the poor will always be with us. Conflicts will always be with us, too. But like the persistence of poverty, we should never be okay with it. Departing for another communion may be necessary on very few occasions. But it is never best, and the place folks land is only a different kind of same. It is also true that the Church can be well served by an adroit parliamentary maneuver. But Robert’s Rules of Order is like antibiotics. Overuse makes the bug it was supposed to kill more deadly.

One naturopathic remedy is to be okay with losing votes. We can passionately make our case for votes, cast our votes, and hopefully win some votes. But we need to ask what we meant when we vowed subjection to our brothers, if we’re not ready to lose votes, even significant votes, without leaving or bullying with procedural blows.

There are equally stark implications when we win votes. When the room goes our way will we step on the necks of our opponents to vanquish some terrible idea? That urge is in the fallen heart of every presbyter. By God’s grace, there is a better impulse in our hearts too. The Spirit calls us to find as much room for one another as the Trinity made for us. If the Father, Son, and Spirit’s example is not enough, consider this; next time the losers might be the winners, and they too will wonder what to do with their feet.

the churches of the PCA will never be safe until we, their shepherds, are thankful we cannot do whatever we want.

It would be unnatural to attend Presbytery or General Assembly hoping to lose a vote. It would be unfaithful, too. At the bare minimum God wants us to vote our convictions. He expects nothing less, but he expects a lot more. The foundational ministry virtue, it seems clear from Scripture, is humility. At times I wish it were otherwise, frankly, but it is not. In fact, the more important the contended issue, the more essential the humility of its champions. 

If we want to serve the Church, however, we need to be more than good losers.  We need to be godly losers by losing our pride(s): the pride of intellect, the pride of effectiveness, the pride of faithfulness, the pride of influence, the pride of relevance, the pride of tradition, and every other vanity that feeds our ecclesiastical hubris. No matter how precise our doctrine or earnest our mission, the churches of the PCA will never be safe until we, their shepherds, are thankful we cannot do whatever we want.

As I said, I wish there were another way. If there were, I could make us perfect in two General Assemblies assuming my powers include ruling all interim Presbytery meetings. The problem is, of course, that we could all do that, but the only one who could do it rightly, chose not to. So if we are left wondering exactly what we’re supposed to do, we need not look far. Fixing the denomination is above our paygrade, but we have a straightforward and brutally practical prescription to fix its Elders.

Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. (Philippians 2:5-8)

Lord, have mercy on us all, presbyterian and pagan alike.

In Christ,

Mike Kelly

p.s. I look forward to seeing you all again at General Assembly if the governors, and our King of course, think it’s safe to have us all in one room.

To borrow from the KJV, perfecting the saints is important (Ephesians 4:12).  So get busy. Just don’t confuse that with fixing the denomination. When we talk about fixing the PCA, we usually have in mind making it like us. That vision looks more like a forest Weyerhaeuser replanted after a clear cut, than anything you’d hike through in a national park. 

If, however, we want an organic communion; congratulations, we have one. It’s full of old growth Presbyterians making it hard for younger trees. Those younger trees respond by reaching for the canopy and deepening their roots. Some teetering giants feel unstable. Some young trees feel crowded out. They all push and strive for rain and sun because that’s what they were made to do. It seems relentlessly chaotic, but underneath and in between life flourishes despite it all, more accurately because of it. A fair reading of the New Testament, it seems to me, makes it clear God knew this would happen and did it anyway. The Church has been a tangled mess of a rainforest in every age. It’s an ecosystem, not a potted plant.

This is not a call to stop cultivating a healthier Church. The Church has a mission to its place and culture that begins with its people but cannot end there: lives are ripped from wombs, racial injustice is embedded in our history, hearts, and social structures. Debasing sexual perversion is celebrated, and the poor are indeed still with us even though most of our people are satiated by affluence. Only historic Biblical orthodoxy and street-level agape can meet those challenges. 

So, if fixing the Church is a mistaken category, how can a denomination with such contrasting prescriptions for the world and Church’s ailments fulfill its mission? Sunday School answer to the rescue: by following the path Jesus gave us, of course. The Bible doesn’t mention slippery slopes and doesn’t use terms like missional or confessional in the way we do. Those are easy things to say and do, frankly. Jesus had a harder plan that neither Blue nor Red can use to excuse themselves. He told all sides to follow a trail that is straight and narrow.

That path somehow transverses Hemlocks, Douglas firs, blackberry brambles, and boulders without turning to the left or the right, without compromising.  Since you know Jesus, you must know that this is no call to tepid moderation. It’s a call to fiercely follow the Shepherd whether he sounds like a Republican, a Democrat, or a Libertarian. We have no choice. He’s not elected. He’s the King. 

So, make your motions, argue your point, build your ministries, but don’t clear the way by cutting down brothers whose practices or attitudes make you uncomfortable. Neither can you simply take a trail that your people and their neighbors find more relevant, or Reformed, or woke, or pure, or historic, or fill-in-the-blank. The path Christ charted runs straight and narrow through a land full of obstacles. Some of those are from the world and must be cut down. But some of the trail’s nuisances are brothers and sisters God put there to shape us and be shaped by us. After all, the straight and narrow is not only about the destination. It’s also about the love its pilgrims have for one another. 

A realistic look at the New Testament leaves us with this encouraging discouragement— we still live in the 1^st Century Church. Lord have mercy. It has always been like this. Like our Fathers and Mothers in the faith, let’s labor to make her more like she will be one day. By God’s grace we can beautify the Church by perfecting the saints. But, please let’s stop trying to fix her.  That work is too great for us.

Next: Thoughts on Losing Votes (and something even harder)

If 25-11 is no-fault divorce, the rest of the BCO is a pre-nuptial written by attorneys who figured the couple would split up one day. If they were right, part of the reason will be that self-assured men know how to get what they want even if 49% of the room is shut down and sent home. That might be an acceptable option when 70 Commissioners are at the mics and 1,200 voting clickers are locked and loaded, but let’s not pretend it’s ideal. And let’s remember that like constitutional cover, parliamentary compliance does not confer moral authority. A well-timed motion or artful procedure can be quite elegant and occasionally save the Church from even more stupid stuff. However, motions and substitutes, committee reports, and floor examinations too often serve as placebos for working things out with one another. 

Sadly, rules meant for decency and good order are often used to manage family members; whether the cranky uncle or the cynical nephew. A motion to dismiss, for example, might be effective, but it is never relationally free. Regardless of whether the maneuver is constitutional, or its cause is righteous, once the parliamentary knives are out, there will be much phileo to repair afterwards. There’s no Robert’s Rules exemption for the Fruit of the Spirit. Kindness matters in Church courts because it matters to the King. It is very unlikely that he doesn’t care how we treat or feel about one another provided we follow Rules for Assembly Operation. 

They can’t seem to realize the tragic irony that they achieve pitch-perfect harmony while they complain about each other. The PCA is that couple. 

We would do well to apply the principle of proximity. Ask yourself, “Would I manage a brother on my Session in the way my motion or speech is about to manage a brother at Presbytery? Once again, what is accepted practice among Presbyters is lamented in our congregations. We don’t see any irony when a member disrupts a congregational meeting with a complaint, she had only mentioned in passing. “They didn’t even send us an email,” we say in somber shepherd tones.

Many of us have pastored couples who become so frustrated that they adopt each other’s dysfunctions in a vortex of relational pathology. They can’t seem to realize the tragic irony that they achieve pitch-perfect harmony while they complain about each other. The PCA is that couple.  

Previous: Thoughts on the 25-11 Ejection Button

Next: Thoughts on Losing Votes (and something even harder) scheduled for 2/1

Is it lawful to leave the denomination for any reason? The Book of Church Order says so, but it was for hardness of heart that our shadow-Pentateuch gave us 25-11. Remember, some ancients thought that Deuteronomy 24:1 meant a husband could send his wife packing for a bad casserole. The infamous BCO ejection button may grant constitutional cover, but it cannot confer moral authority. The moral authority of leading a church out of the denomination of our vows will only come (or not) from the reasons we invoke and the process we engage to do it. 

None of us would thoughtlessly cast our denominational bride away, but self-assured men know how to make almost anything into a Gospel issue. Some dream of a communion free of the ecclesiastical version of embarrassing uncles ranting about America’s Christian heritage. Others are bothered by the liberal nephew who talks like the Church has been a net-loss to the common good. But both know that 25-11 needs a bigger driver, so they stick around until the annoying family members win too many votes and another bad idea is passed or good one rejected.  

Young people are leaving the Church because of our legalistic hypocrisy and selective moralism. But, the other way works, too. The mainliners killed the Gospel by trying to make it relevant.

They roll their eyes and tell themselves those folks just don’t get what’s happening in the culture. By itself that may not compel clicking on 25-11, but what if the real issue is that the other side is full of legalists, or if you like (well, don’t like), closet liberals? Young people are leaving the Church because of our legalistic hypocrisy and selective moralism. But, the other way works, too. The mainliners killed the Gospel by trying to make it relevant. Either way, it turns out this is a Gospel issue after all. The only responsible thing to do now is to tell the congregation it’s time to leave. 

Of course, we joined a denomination that started by leaving a denomination. Leaving is not wrong in every case. However, after more than 30 years in the PCA I’m still waiting for the 25-11 that makes the claim, “We cannot preach the Gospel here.” We might imagine lesser although still legitimate reasons to leave, but the unfettered language of 25-11, is not a license to indulge exit-fantasies on the way home from a frustrating General Assembly. 

Tellingly, it’s often suggested that a congregation’s departure is less troubling because it joined another more confessionally or missionally comfortable Reformed Communion. That’s a strange argument. It claims the change was not that drastic because it wasn’t driven by concerns for historic orthodoxy, or even Reformed distinctives. If those aren’t in play, the list of motives very likely has more to do with difficult presbyters, lost votes, and enneagrams than we’re ready to admit. If we could, we might also admit that we’re exasperated when someone in our congregation does the member-version of 25-11. We don’t see any irony when a congregant unilaterally bolts for another church because of things the Session decided. “He wouldn’t even answer our emails,” we say in somber shepherd tones.

Next: Thoughts on the Parliamentary Arts

Two competing visions of the Church vie for influence in the PCA. Sometimes they spark, sometimes they simmer, but they are always in the room. One vision earnestly calls for a more “emotionally healthy community” where the main thing is the main thing, procedure doesn’t trump relationship, and mission isn’t lost in tradition. With the same genuine conviction, the other vision demands “confessional integrity” where historic Christianity is championed, Reformed distinctives valued, and mission isn’t an excuse for accommodation. 

Both visions come from people with good hearts who want the Church to thrive. However, they also come from fallen hearts, and in their baser expressions they share a common pathology: some of their advocates behave as if the other side is a nuisance that they’d be happy to be done with. 

One vision insists that relationships and mission are essential, but some of its advocates are ready to dislocate from a body of brothers that, however awkward and imperfect, is a sacred community of relationships itself and part of God’s mission. The other insists we guard the Creed, but the Confession itself makes much of our eternal union with Christ and one another. Yet as we also see, some of its advocates act like creeds and committees are the sum-total of those relationships and the mission is to assure theology and praxis alignment at a cellular level.

A little reflection, however, exposes a theological and relational problem with all this.  If avoiding nuisance was a Trinitarian value, the Godhead would do Church alone, and we wouldn’t have any of the Epistles, which are, among other things, inspired catalogues of ecclesiastical annoyances.  Remember too, that no one has ever been more embarrassed, obstructed, or hurt by fellow church leaders than our King. Do we think he’s so impressed by our context-savvy mission or laser-precision creed that he doesn’t care how we treat one another?

that seems hard to deny unless the plurality of elders was established so Presbyters could confirm one another’s genius

It is axiomatic that we’re called to promote causes that guard the Faith and build the Kingdom.  Still, since the Book of Acts, decent men have carelessly wounded one another and the Church in that effort. For almost 50 years God has seen fit to endure our bickering with patience and continues to use our conflicts for his purposes. Leadership consultants might think God skipped the Good to Great chapter about getting the right people on the bus, but we know better. He does things with purpose, including putting elders with clashing ministry values on the same committee.

The thesis of this open letter is that chief among those purposes is to keep us safe from ourselves. God uses the other side of the ecclesiastical aisle to guard the Church from the weaknesses, biases, blind spots, unimagined outcomes, and just plain foolishness of her shepherds’ strongly held views. That seems hard to deny unless the plurality of elders was established so Presbyters could confirm one another’s genius. If, however, we’re all a little short on genius and believe iron sharpens iron, then we need to learn to clash with one another in ways that make us men who love the Savior and his Bride enough to love each other.

That’s our best hope for a second fifty years of mostly faithful, often fruitful, occasionally floundering, sometimes flourishing ministry together. This article and the posts that follow are my effort to help us understand what being fellow elders means. 

I admit that the following posts are probably born of the presumption older men have who feel wiser than they once were but are not as wise as they think they are now. Please forgive me for that and trust that wherever these many words come from, they also come from love for our common home. 

Here’s a look at what’s coming in this series:

Thoughts on the 25-11 Ejection Button

Thoughts on the Parliamentary Arts

Thoughts on (not)Fixing the Denomination

Thoughts on Losing Votes (and something even harder)

Finally, since Reformed epistemology makes much of presuppositions, let’s begin with this starting point from Moby Dick, which is a more apt metaphor for church leaders than we might admit. 

… Heaven have mercy on us all – Presbyterians and Pagans alike – for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending.