Normative Authority and Eastern Orthodoxy: A Quandary

A while ago, I wrote a post containing (among other things) a reply to what might be called the "normative authority argument" commonly referenced by Eastern Orthodox apologists against Protestants. What is this argument? For example, from EO apologist Alex Sorin:

You are confusing (1) our critique of you lacking any binding, judicial authorities that have a final say in matters of scriptural interpretation, with (2) epistemic certainty.

In Orthodoxy, some things we are bound to believe, because the Church said so in ecumenical council—similar to the Supreme Court. These things are final. (link)

As I understand it, the EO argument basically runs as follows: on Protestantism, an individual is his own normative authority; but it is not true that an individual is his own normative authority; therefore, Protestantism is false. Said another way, the EO apologist alleges, "contrary to Protestantism, we don't bind our own consciences."

Steve Hays rebutted this a long time ago, and despite what EO apologists such as Perry Robinson would like one to believe (link), Hays' points have received no substantial response. I think I augmented Hays' response in the first link at the beginning of this post, and in what follows, I'll attempt to turn the tables on EO apologists.

A few years ago, I transcribed all of Roman Catholic scholar Richard Price's youtube lectures (link). That project provided an all-too-brief summary of some of content I am about to mention and inspired me to take the past few years to read (among other historical documents) the following translations of the acts or documents related to various councils:

Documents of the Early ‘Arian’ Controversy and the Council of Nicaea 

The Council of Ephesus 431 

The Acts of the Council of Chalcedon 

The Acts of the Council of Constantinople of 553 

The Acts of the Lateran Synod of 649 

The Canons of the Quinisext Council 691/692 

The Acts of the Second Council of Nicaea (787) 

The Acts of the Council of Constantinople 869-870 

The Acts of the Eight Œcumenical Council [The Council of Constantinople 879-880] 

The Synods of Constantinople 1166 and 1170 AD

Gregory Palamas - [The Council(s) of Constantinople 1341-1368] 

Not all of the councils I mention above are regarded by EOs as ecumenical, binding, and/or infallible. For example, some EOs regard Constantinople 879-880 as the eighth ecumenical council, as indicated by the title of one of the books above. The book was produced by an EO publishing press and includes contributions from EO apologist Craig Truglia (who himself argues that there are more than seven ecumenical councils here). 

[Side note: I quite enjoyed the following from Eastern Orthodox scholar Constantine Siamakis (pg. 39 of The Acts of the Eight Œcumenical Council): 

In the Church, only the books of the Canon of the Holy Scriptures are accepted as divinely inspired and above all criticism on the part of the Christians. Other writings were written as human books and are so considered. For this reason, they are subject to Christian judgment and evaluation. This distinction had not been clarified until the ninth century. Photius was the first to make this distinction insightfully but reverently, which he articulates primarily in his letter to John, the metropolitan of Aquileia.

What a sharp contrast to what all of the aforementioned EO apologists think, and written in an EO publication on what some of these very EO apologists consider to be an "ecumenical council," no less!]

On the other hand, at a recent EO conference, bishop Maksim Vasiljević mentioned "that the Palamite councils" (Constantinople 1341-1368) "don't mention the Photian council" (Constantinople 879-880) "as ecumenical, which now creates a sort of discrepancy or discontinuity." Why does a lack of mention matter? Because, as bishop Vasiljevic says, "It was only at ecumenical councils that previous [councils] would be affirmed or not as ecumenical" (link).

That is, if the Palamite councils are ecumenical, why didn't they list the Photian council as ecumenical (along with the seven they do mention) from the first millennium? Was it not "received"? The bishop makes an historical concession amidst an equally honest appraisal of the Council of Crete, about which I wrote in my last post.

My last post on this subject also stated that EO apologists like Robinson sometimes contradict themselves on whether a single council is binding or infallible (see my comments on the Council of Jerusalem 1672 and Confession of Dositheus, the latter of which was ratified at said council). I followed that up with an a few difficulties that EOs face no matter depending on answer they give, including a critique of EO reception theory. 

[Side note: a link that is now broken - which is a shame (and strange timing, as I recommended it on X just 2 weeks ago) - demonstrated that Dositheus' confession, ratified in the 1672 Council of Jerusalem, "without using the term, contains the doctrine of purgatory." Yet in 1690, Dositheus "recanted" his position on the intermediate state (link). Why is this significant? Because, as EO apologist Craig Truglia notes, the 1672 confession of Dositheus, not the 1690 revision, was received by all patriarchs in the 1723 council of Constantinople (link). Truglia writes:

While the 1690 version in fact received reception from the Moscow Patriarchate, it did not meet the criteria of Pan-Orthodox reception unlike the 1672 version–which was accepted by all jurisdictions in 1723...

In other words, according the EO reception theory, oughtn't the 1672 version of the Confession of Dositheus be binding... despite Dositheus himself retracting his own views? Very weird! Imagine if there were a second letter to Titus in which Paul stated that he made a doctrinal mistake in his first letter to Titus. Without massive cognitive dissonance, could anyone trust the first letter to Titus to have been without fault? I think some arguments against Islam are made along these lines.]

The arguments from my prior post stand, but I want to push further by discussing the ecumenical councils on which all EOs agree.

The EO apologist takes the acts of ecumenical councils to be infallible and binding. Robinson claims in a recent post, "the councils also use the term infallible relative to their judgments" (link). Okay - are these councils binding and infallible in everything they produce? That is, do EO apologists think people are obligated to accept these councils could not have erred in any of the acts they produced? 

If so, scholarship - including EO scholarship (see below) - has found that the acts of these councils contain errors such as false attributions, forgeries, and historical revisions. So what is an EO to do?

The EO could reject consensus scholarship. For example, in the tenth session at the Council of Chalcedon, a letter was produced by opponents of Ibas of Edessa. As EO scholar John Meyendoff writes, "Ibas had written a letter to Maris the Persian, accusing Cyril of Apollinarism" (Imperial Unity and Christian Divisions: the church, 450-680 AD, Meyendorff, pg. 178). 

The trouble is not so much that Ibas was rehabilitated during the tenth session of Chalcedon but that in the course of Ibas's rehabilitation, the acts record that bishop Maximus of Antioch said of Ibas that "from the reading of the transcript of the letter produced by his adversary his writing has been seen to be orthodox." Obviously, it's problematic that a letter accusing Cyril of Apollinarism would be said to be that by which the author, Ibas, "has been seen to be orthodox." This caused problems during 6th century discussions between Chalcedonians and non-Chalcedonians.

Thus, in contrast to current scholarship, the acts of the fifth ecumenical council (Constantinople 553, Session VI) deny that Ibas wrote the letter to Mari: 

The Letter to Mari the Persian was first read out (5), followed by a letter from Proclus of Constantinople to John of Antioch (7), which accused Ibas of so ‘loving the madness of Nestorius’ that he actually admired, translated into Syriac, and circulated certain heretical excerpts (from Theodore of Mopsuestia, though Proclus does not say so) which Proclus had appended to his Tome to the Armenians and circulated for execration (7.3). After this Theodore Ascidas took the floor. He first gave an account of Ibas’ chequered career as bishop of Edessa, omitting the fact that he was reinstated as bishop by the Council of Chalcedon (9.1—5). He then argued that the fathers of Chalcedon, so far from approving the Letter to Mari, only accepted Ibas because he anathematized the letter and denied that he had written it (9.7-15). (Price, The Acts of the Council of Constantinople 553)

If this were true, though, why wasn't such a defense mentioned during earlier dialogues with non-Chalcedonians? By all appearances, it is because this defense produced by the fifth ecumenical council was an historical innovation. Keep in mind that the central to the fifth ecumenical council was the "Three Chapters Controversy," and one of the "chapters" was specifically about the letter to Mari, which was anathematized during the proceedings of the council. 

Some EOs, then - feeling the sting of the suggestion that the fifth ecumenical council could get something so foundational to its purpose for meeting so wrong - deny the prevailing scholarship (e.g. Truglia). But frankly, these EOs have no good reply to the point that the only letter "produced by his [Ibas's] adversary" at Chalcedon was the letter to Mari. So what bullet does the EO apologist bite?

That is, the letter to Mari is worthy of condemnation, to be sure. There is no disagreement about that. Rather, the point is that the suggestion that Ibas didn't write this letter strains historical credulity - and this really is an understatement. Above, I haven't merely appealed to scholarship. But the consensus does exist for a reason. 

Yet to accept that Ibas actually wrote that letter comes at a double cost - it means that the acts of the fourth ecumenical council rehabilitated a man and pronounced his orthodoxy in virtue of an unorthodox letter he wrote, and it means the acts of the fifth ecumenical council would be, as Truglia concedes (ex hypothesi), historically revisionist.

So much for the letter of Ibas. Let's return to the question, "do EO apologists think people are obligated to accept these councils could not have erred in any of the acts they produce?" Here is a recent conversation I had on X with EO apologist Alex Sorin and a few of his followers (link). 

Sorin's original comment is a complaint regarding Protestants who fail to respond to the EO apologetic for "normative authority." His idea is that any time a Protestant responds to the EO by questioning the infallibility or fallibility of the authority in question, the Protestant has failed to discern that the real EO criticism is whether Protestants have an authority (outside oneself) which can bind one's conscience (on which, again refer to my links - towards the beginning of this post - by Steve Hays and myself). Thus, Sorin writes:

Sorin: You guys confuse personal epistemic certainty with judicial authority almost every single time without fail. I’m not talking about your personal confidence in the fallibility or infallibility of any dispute-resolution body. Now, totally independent from this issue of certainty is this idea that there is a class of judicial officers with authority from Christ to decide matters of interpretation and application of the scriptures. That is what I’m talking about. I’m not sure how else to get through to you guys that these are different categories. I’m starting to think it might just be a comprehension issue.

Sorin is responding to a Protestant interlocutor. Here is where I enter:

Me: If your conscience is bound with respect to conciliar statements that are false - and even EOs like Truglia agree not everything in the acts of ecumenical councils is true - you can keep your supreme court.

If not, it begs the question why the whole of the acts aren't binding.

Here, I am driving at whether Sorin is willing to defend that everything within the acts of ecumenical councils are binding. If he is willing to argue that everything within the acts of ecumenical councils are binding, then I will argue that Sorin's apologetic ought to be rejected on the grounds that ecumenical councils make false statements (cf. the letter of Ibas above; see below for further examples). Sorin, recognizing that the acts of the ecumenical councils contain falsities, tries a different defense:

Sorin: Just like a Supreme Court opinion, it’s the holding of the Council that’s binding—not dicta. 

Me: Who gets to decide what is dicta?

This is where Sorin tapped out of the conversation, rolling his eyes at my question - a sort of implicit argument from incredulity, I suppose. Being charitable, I guess Sorin (who is a lawyer) can't believe that anyone would have trouble discerning what are statements made by ecumenical councils "in passing." 

But is the orthodoxy of the letter of Ibas dicta? The fifth ecumenical council doesn't seem to have thought so, or it wouldn't have bothered addressing the matter. So does Sorin, like Truglia, reject scholarly consensus on who wrote the letter to Mari? At any rate, my response to Sorin highlights the hypocrisy of the EO argument from "normative authority." I continued:

Me: So, no response? If you're judging what is and isn't dicta - you're judging what statements made by a council you will accept or reject - you're in no obviously different position than a Protestant. 

Since, by this point, Sorin decided to discontinue the conversions, a few other EOs jumped in:  

Sorin follower #1: Which law school did you graduate from? Just curious.

Sorin follower #2: Well since he doesn't understand what dicta is probably no law school.

Me: Cute. Now, who decides which statements are dicta? The dissenters of Constantinople 1351 would have appreciated it if they didn't have to embrace all "the Acts of the ecumenical councils."

Here, I am alluding to the following statement from the EO pan-orthodox Council of Constantinople 1351, in which the opponents of Palamas did not want to hear the acts of the sixth ecumenical council. See here:

12. In what the dissenters said, they were not only continuing to fight against the saints individually, but already were attempting to overthrow and dissolve the holy sixth ecumenical council itself. That council had no other purpose; its whole subject concerned the two natural wills and the two natural energies in our Lord Jesus Christ. Because of this it was necessary to bring in the Acts of the council and to read them, and from these to proclaim the true faith; so they were set out in the midst. But as soon as they were brought forth the dissenters at once cried out, “Not the Acts of the council, but read the definition only.” But while the divine synod was uncertain what this outcry meant, and why they rejected and did not accept the Acts, those men still did not depart in any degree from the same futile evil opinion and their twisted attitude, not at all accepting the reading of the Acts.

At this, by the glorious command of our most clement emperor, a passage was read from the Synodikon which is customarily read on the ambo on the Sunday of Orthodoxy, which word for word is this: “On those who reject the words of the holy fathers, which were expressed at the confirmation of the correct doctrine of the Church of God, of Athanasius, Cyril, Ambrose, Amphilochius who spoke God’s words, Leo the most holy bishop of the elder Rome, and the rest, and in addition on those who did not embrace the Acts of the ecumenical councils, the fourth, that is, and the sixth, anathema.”

Notice, then, that Sorin's earlier attempt to establish non-binding "dicta" of ecumenical councils already is in tension with Constantinople 1341-1368. Are EOs prepared to admit these Palamite councils were neither binding nor infallible? Were they not received? How would such a view affect the dogmatic status of Palamas' essence-energies distinction? 

At any rate, the conversation with one of Sorin's followers continued and concluded:

Sorin follower #1: The consensus of US law decides.

Me: And the consensus of Constantinople 1351 was that the dissenters had to accept the acts of the ecumenical councils on pain of anathema. But the acts contain errors. So do you follow your authority here? Do you dismiss that anathema as dicta? Or what?

Sorin follower #1: Well dicta is a term in U.S. law. There is no 1 for 1 equivalent. Not every analogy is perfect. And what errors are you talking about? Can you steelman Orthodox ecclesiology?

Me: E.g. the 6th EC's judgment monothelites forged monoenergist statements in the acts of the 5th EC. The very integrity of acts are at stake.

Even this gets away from the apologetic reversal: does the individual EO decide which statements by his authorities (ECs) can be dismissed?

X has a limited number of characters, so to clarify the first half of my final comment, in the sixth ecumenical council, the following points by Richard Price in his book on The Acts of the Council of Constantinople of 553 explain the trouble:

In its Session III of 13 November 680 a copy of the acts of 553 was read out and found to contain three monenergist or monothelete documents: inserted at the very beginning of the acts was a document entitled ‘A discourse by the sainted Archbishop Menas of Constantinople addressed to the most blessed Pope Vigilius of Rome on Christ’s possession of a single will’, while the acts of Session VII of 553 were found to contain two declarations of faith by Vigilius, one addressed to Justinian and the other to his consort Theodora, which professed belief that 'Christ is one hypostasis and one person and one operation'. The manuscript was immediately examined by the emperor Constantine IV (chairing the council), his officials and the bishops, who found that the discourse of Menas came on pages that had simply been stuck into the manuscript; it was agreed that a fuller examination of the latter would be carried out at an appropriate time. This further examination did not take place till Session XIV of 6 April 681, when it was found that the two declarations by Vigilius were likewise crude insertions into the manuscript read out in Session III; it was also revealed that on a scroll containing the acts solely of Session VII of 553 the offending additions to the text had been ‘written crosswise’ — that is, they were an addition written at right angles to the original text, presumably in the margin. As additional evidence of the spuriousness of all three inserted documents, a number of additional manuscripts were now produced that contained none of them.

What are we to make of all this? The discourse by Menas, whether genuine or a forgery,’ had no proper place in the acts of 553. But the evidence that the two declarations by Vigilius had likewise been clumsily stuck into the manuscript is more suspect: if this were so, why was the examination of the manuscript delayed for five months? It looks as if the evidence needed time to be concocted — by the simple device, it appears, of replacing a copy of the first edition, where the two declarations were integral parts of the text, by a copy of the second edition in which the two letters were indeed late insertions. And in fact, course, the two declarations were not spurious: they come in the first edition of the acts of 553 as preserved in our best Latin manuscript. On the other hand, the additions ‘written crosswise’ on the scroll must have been brief ones, which suggests that in this manuscript the two declarations were part of the original text but with the offending words ‘and one operation’ not in the main body of the text but in marginal annotation. But even if in this manuscript the phrase was an addition, this does not prove that it was absent from Vigilius’ original text, since a merely incidental use of monenergist language is perfectly credible in the mid-sixth century. The manuscripts that did not contain any of the offensive documents prove nothing, of course: they were clearly copies of the expurgated second edition discussed above. Taken together, the evidence suggests that the text produced and read out in November 680 was an authentic copy of the now lost first Greek edition of the acts of 553, in which, however, a monenergist-monothelete profession attributed to Menas had been inserted. That there was delay before evidence could be produced to ‘prove’ the monenergist version of Vigilius’ declarations a forgery, plus the preservation of this version independently in the extant Latin manuscript of the first edition, and also the confusion over whether the evidence was supposed to prove total forgery or simply interpolation, all suggests that Vigilius’ assertion of ‘one operation’ was original and authentic.

The sixth ecumenical council, which affirmed dyoenergism, had to deal with the question of why monoenergist affirmations by pope Vigilius (a key figure in the fifth ecumenical council) were contained in the acts of the fifth ecumenical council. As the fifth ecumenical council revised history on what happened at the fourth ecumenical council regarding Ibas, so, too, the sixth ecumenical council, according to Price, appears to have revised history regarding what the acts of the fifth ecumenical council originally contained.

It won't do to suggest that ecumenical councils are only infallible with respect to doctrinal matters. Firstly, monoenergism/dyoenergism is a doctrinal matter. 

Secondly, the idea that the members of these councils believed one could dismiss their historical arguments as untruths is itself historical revisionism, and one who so subverts said councils cannot consistently consider them to be normatively authoritative. The integrity of the acts of the fifth ecumenical council obviously mattered a great deal to those at the sixth ecumenical council (whether or not one agrees with the conclusions of the latter regarding Vigilius's remarks). 

Finally, EO introduction of "dicta" into this conversation recalls to mind Gordon Clark's point about the importance of the scope of infallibility for that which one takes to be foundationally authoritative:

After a few more slightly irrelevant questions, Dr. Foreman asks, “Is it necessary for the Bible’s geography to be above reproach before I can put my trust in the God of the Bible?” The series of irrelevant questions with their plausible negative answers has supposedly conditioned the reader to continue with a negative here also. But if the question is examined a little, the negative is not so plausible. If the Bible is mistaken on geography, which ought to have been easy for the writers to put down correctly, it might very well be mistaken on theology, which is much more difficult than geography. To this question an affirmative answer is at least as plausible as the negative answer was to the first question...

Indeed, we wish to ask these men what authority the Bible can have, if it is not true. The Neo-orthodox, or whatever name best suits them, talk a good deal about the Bible and its authority. But they are not at all clear as to why we should believe, submit to, or honor a book that is marred with discrepancies and errors. Karl Barth, it will be remembered, attributes to the Bible not only geographical mistakes and number mysticism, but errors in theology. But if a doctrine is false, why should it be authoritatively preached? The logic of such a position is more than puzzling...

Everywhere the Bible speaks of itself, it teaches verbal inspiration. The words are the words of God. It is nowhere said that the words contain geographical discrepancies and theological errors. No examination of the text itself can produce evidence that the words are not inspired. If we take our belief about the Bible from what the Bible say s about itself, we must conclude that the words are the words of God who cannot lie. (Clark, Holy Scripture, 1963)

Now replace "Neo-Orthodox," "Bible," and "book" with "Eastern Orthodox," "ecumenical councils," and "acts" in the second paragraph. See the problem?

Sadly, some EOs who concede that ecumenical councils taught historical falsehoods seem open to rejecting the infallibility of Scripture with respect to historical matters (link):

[minute 56:12] I'm going to give my personal opinion about something, which is that councils can make historical mistakes. Because I don't think councils are given a guarantee from the Holy Spirit they'll be preserved from making historical and scientific errors. So let me unpack this opinion of mine - and again, it's just an opinion. I have no authority in the church to bind anyone to this opinion. 

But in John chapter 17, Christ guarantees the apostles that can be led into all truth. But we see in the epistle of Jude, saint Jude speaks of the faith delivered once for all to the saints. And so the whole truth that the Holy Spirit guides the apostles into is the deposit - the apostolic deposit - of faith, which is the the beliefs, the morals, the disciplines of the church, right? How the church operates, what we believe. That is what's preserved. 

The historical evaluation of Jude of Enoch as Scripture, for example - and not to get all cope, "Oh, he never says 'the Scripture sayith,'" he appears to treat the book Enoch as Scripture. We don't think that because the Scriptures might have made a historical error with the Book of Enoch that the Scriptures don't have some sort of authority. 

Now this doesn't open up, for example, the book of Genesis and to allow for evolution or something like that. But the point is, even saint Maximus says, the Scriptures sometimes have deliberate historical errors, and the point is for us to look further and to look for figurative meanings and things like this. So the point is, if we don't even believe the saints, don't believe the scriptures themselves are in all respects preserved some historical error, I don't see the basis to apply that to councils.

It makes no difference to me that Truglia qualifies the above as his personal opinion. I find it not at all surprising that Truglia's openness to a lower estimation of Scripture would correspond to his hedged view of ecumenical councils. It strikes me as a sort of pre-emptive, apologetic tu quoque: "Sure, Protestant, ecumenical councils contain historical errors; but Scripture contains these kinds of errors too!" 

Would Truglia think the way he does about Scripture had he not already been forced to concede the fallibility of ecumenical councils? On that note, his contention about Enoch is weak. A text can reliably speak to what a prophet prophesied without itself being God-breathed.

Finally, is Maximus infallible? More to the point, this reference was an odd one anyways, since surely Truglia wouldn't admit that the many historical errors of ecumenical councils were deliberate? For example, in the acts of Nicaea II (what EOs consider to be the seventh ecumenical council), Severian of Gabala is repeatedly miscited as John Chrysostom. What makes this historical error especially embarrassing is that Severian of Gabala persecuted John Chrysostom. Certainly, this wasn't deliberate! Because of this, even some EOs who agree with icon veneration admit:

The issue becomes more significant, however, for those who hold an extremely strong view of conciliar inspiration or infallibility. The bishops at Nicaea appear to have acted sincerely and in good faith. They were trusting the manuscript traditions available to them. But the fact remains: the quotations were misattributed. The bishops believed they were appealing to the authority of St. John Chrysostom when in reality they were citing the writings of Severian of Gabala. (link)

In short, here is the quandary: according to the very "normative authorities" (ecumenical councils) EO apologists cite as providing some sort of advantage against Protestants (i.e. Protestants, unlike EOs, are like "sovereign citizens" without a "Supreme Court"), these same EO apologists must accept the acts - not merely the definitions - of ecumenical councils. What are the main options? The acts of ecumenical councils are: 

1. All true and all binding. This cuts against scholarship and historical evidence. I don't want to hear any EOs who take this route talk about being "deep in history."

2. Sometimes true, but in every respect binding. Do any EO apologists really think that our conscience's are bound to accept falsehoods? If so, then as I said in my reply to Sorin, "you can keep your supreme court." It would be so much the worse for their apologetic, for as Steve Hays said, "It's enough to be right. You don't need a right to be right." 

3. Sometimes true, and sometimes binding. This begs the question: in what way does the EO avoid private judgment? Isn't it the individual EO who judges what to accept or reject in acts of ecumenical councils? But that is no different than the Protestant position, so the "sovereign citizen" pejorative ricochets against EOs.

WCF 31.3 All synods or councils, since the apostles’ times, whether general or particular, may err; and many have erred. Therefore they are not to be made the rule of faith, or practice; but to be used as a help in both.

Church History and Presuppositions: Dioscorus and Oriental Orthodoxy

In a post last year, I noted that works of history involve presuppositions (link). History is not methodologically neutral. So, too, it is with those who read church history. So, too, it is with this post. 

This does not lead to skepticism, however. Truth is objective. When two people agree about what is historically true, it becomes easier to compare and evaluate their presuppositions at points of disagreement.

When I read church history, I don't expect to see pristine models of perfection. Why? Because I accept the doctrines of total depravity and progressive sanctification. Professing Christians can be nominal Christians, and true Christians battle sin (Romans 7-8, Galatians 2, 1 John 2). While we can commend the faith of those who've gone before us (Hebrews 11), Christ is our model of perfection, and it is in His image Christians are conformed. This presupposition dovetails with sola scriptura, for it is what Scripture itself teaches.

Contrast this to the presuppositions of those whose traditions align with solo ecclesia (link). Because adherents of this sort of tradition - e.g. Oriental Orthodoxy, Eastern Orthodoxy, Roman Catholicism - tend to create lists of venerable "saints" from church history which are discordant with lists of other traditions, adherents are incentivized to be zealous for the sake of sinful men rather than God. Solo ecclesia entails a distorted anthropology.  

One example of this can be seen in a recent dialogue I had with an Oriental Orthodox believer (link) who attempted to defend the actions of Dioscorus at the council of Ephesus II (otherwise known as Ephesus 449). Dioscorus is regarded as a saint in Oriental Orthodoxy. 

I pointed out that on Oriental Orthodoxy's own presuppositions, Dioscorus seems to have acted wrongly at Ephesus II. In particular, Dioscorus did not follow Apostolic Canon 74 (link):

If any bishop has been accused of anything by men worthy of credit, he must be summoned by the bishops; and if he appears, and confesses, or is convicted, a suitable punishment must be inflicted upon him. But if when he is summoned he does not attend, let him be summoned a second time, two bishops being sent to him, for that purpose. [If even then he will not attend, let him be summoned a third time, two bishops being again sent to him. ] But if even then he shall disregard the summons and not come, let the synod pronounce such sentence against him as appears right, that he may not seem to profit by avoiding judgment.

Maria Constantinou's article, "The Threefold Summons at Late Antique Church Councils," details in what way Dioscorus, who presided over Ephesus II, subverted this canon (link):

It is fortunate that the details of the parallel ecclesiastical threefold summons procedure and the way it evolved can be deciphered from the copious pertinent evidence from conciliar acts of the fifth and sixth centuries. The fact that detailed accounts of threefold summonses are a substantial and extensive part of conciliar proceedings and the minutes thereof does not come as a surprise, since the validity of a trial in absence depended upon the attestation of the orderly conduct of the summons...

A trial in absentia without three summonses was considered illegal, since the accused had to be given the opportunity to defend himself. It is indicative that the condemnations at the Second Council at Ephesus 449, almost all of which were imposed on absentees and uninvited, were unanimously declared void at the first session of the Council of Chalcedon; see, for instance, the bishops’ request to annul the deposition of Ibas of Edessa at the tenth session of Chalcedon: κακῶς ἐποίησαν οἱ παρὰ τοὺς κανόνας κατακρίναντες αὐτόν. τὰ κατὰ ἀπόντος γενόμενα ἀργείτω. ταῦτα πάντες λέγομεν· οὐδεὶς ἀπόντα κατακρίνει: Those who condemned him contrary to the canons did so wrongly. The proceedings against an absentee should be annulled. We all say this: nobody condemns someone in his absence, ACO II.1.3 § 5 p. 17 lin. 16–18; cf. also the verdict regarding Ibas’ reinstatement pronounced by Francion of Philippopolis and Basil of Trajanopolis: τὸν ἐν τῆι κρίσει μὴ παρόντα, ἀλλὰ μήτε προσκληθέντα κατὰ μηδένα τρόπον βλάπτεσθαι ὑπὸ τῆς ἐξενεχθείσης κατ’ αὐτοῦ ψήφου δοκιμάζομεν: Since he was not present at the trial and was not even summoned, we decide that he should in no way be wronged by the sentence passed against him, ACO II.1.3 § 175 p. 41 lin. 31 to p. 42 lin. 2; cf. Steinwenter, Kirchlicher Rechtsgang (fn. 4) 66–67; Troianos (fn. 4) 78 with n. 49...

ACO II.1.2 § 5 p. 9 lin. 16–19. Eusebius emphasised that he and Flavian were deposed at Ephesus II without being summoned to defend themselves.

Likewise does Richard Price speak of Ephesus II and Dioscorus in his The Acts of the Council of Chalcedon, Vol. I (pg. 34):

None of those accused and condemned was present to defend himself – a breach of due process that was one of several reasons why this council ultimately acquired its distasteful reputation… 

Theodoret had been barred from the council by imperial decree (Chalcedon, I. 24) and Ibas was actually imprisoned (Chalcedon, X. 1). Although Domnus was in town, pleading absence due to illness, the synod made no attempt to give him any notification that he was to be put on trial – let alone the canonical three summonses – before proceeding with his case. None of the other bishops dealt with at the second session appears to have been present.

In short, Dioscorus acted uncanonically and against his own presuppositions. This is a problem for Oriental Orthodoxy. The problem is not merely that someone who is regarded as a saint did something bad - rather, it's that also Oriental Orthodoxy holds Ephesus II rather than Chalcedon (the latter of which condemned Dioscorus and revoked decisions made at Ephesus II) to be "ecumenical." If decisions made at Ephesus II were uncanonical (which, the Oriental Orthodox must admit, entails immorality), that must in turn affect Oriental Orthodoxy's theology of "ecumenical" councils and jeopardize its underlying presupposition of solo ecclesia. 

The Oriental Orthodox believer with whom I spoke attempted to undercut my argument in four different ways:

1) He argued that Chalcedon also acted uncanonically.

2) He argued that Ephesus II was accepted by the emperor at the time.

3) The Apostolic Canons only apply to Christians.

4) Ephesus II had good reasons for their charges against those they accused.

The first counter is a tu quoque fallacy. He appears to have assumed that I was an Eastern Orthodox believer. His reasoning was that if I take it that Oriental Orthodoxy has a problem in dealing with Ephesus II, I would similarly have a problem in dealing with Chalcedon. Firstly, that wouldn't discharge the burden he bears regarding Ephesus II; secondly, because I am not Eastern Orthodox, even if I did admit that Chalcedon acted uncanonically, there is no issue. On the contrary, errors and immorality in church history are to be expected (WCF 31.4). As an aside, though, Chalcedon did follow Apostolic Canon 74 before ratifying the deposition of Dioscorus (Price, The Acts of the Council of Chalcedon, Vol. II, pgs. 69ff.).

The second response is irrelevant. If churchmen can make mistakes, so can an emperor. Even Dioscorus tries to blame the emperor instead of owning his own mistakes (see below). It might also be pointed out that when the emperor who accepted Ephesus II (Theodosius II) died and the new emperor called and then accepted Chalcedon, does that therefore obligate Oriental Orthodoxy to accept Chalcedon? Obviously, Oriental Orthodox believers say no. Further, how does Oriental Orthodoxy view the decision of Theodosius II to depose Cyril of Alexandria for a time at Ephesus I (i.e. Ephesus 431)? Did that deposition put in question the ecumenicity of Ephesus I? From conversations I've had, this is not the perspective of the Oriental Orthodox. In fact, I've been told by notable Oriental Orthodox apologist Daniel Kakish that 1) Ephesus I "could have been been considered ecumenical" even during the time Theodosius II deposed Cyril and, therefore, 2) imperial policy is "irrelevant as a criterion for ecumenicity. Eventual imperial backing of the determinations of the Cyrillian council is a bonus rather than a necessary condition" (link). 

The third assertion is absurd. Nowhere do the Apostolic Canons say that they only apply to those one regards as Christians. On the contrary: "If any bishop has been accused of anything by men worthy of credit, he must be summoned by the bishops..." The idea that the Apostolic Canons only apply to those whom one regards as a Christian would undermine the very purpose of canon 74. Even Nestorius was summoned three times at Ephesus I. He ignored the summons and was deposed.

Like the second response, the last one is irrelevant. The question is whether Dioscorus and Ephesus II acted canonically, not whether they had good reasons for charging those they accused. Did not those accused have canonical rights which, in the case of Ephesus II, were prevented them? Why were the accused 1) barred from being able to defend themselves or 2) uninformed they were even on trial? When Eusebius confronted Dioscorus about this at Chalcedon, Dioscorus' response to to try to pass the blame:

187. During the reading Eusebius the most devout bishop of Dorylaeum said: ‘When Eutyches, whom I had accused, presented his plaint to the holy council, he mentioned that I was his accuser. I demand an inquiry of how, when the judge Flavian of sacred memory demanded that I as the accuser should appear, as proper procedure and the canons required, I was prevented from doing so.’ 

188. The most glorious officials and the exalted senate said: ‘When Flavian of sacred memory requested the appearance of Eusebius as Eutyches’ accuser, why did you, to whom authority to act as judge had been committed, not give orders for this in accordance with the canons?’ 

189. Dioscorus the most devout bishop of Alexandria said: ‘I ask that the testimony of Helpidius be read. I would not have had the power to prevent it, had not Helpidius brought an instruction in which he certified that the emperor had ordered him [Eusebius] not to appear.’ 

190. Juvenal the most devout bishop of Jerusalem said: ‘It was the admirable count Helpidius who didn’t allow him to appear.’ 

191. Thalassius the most devout bishop of Cappadocian Caesarea said: ‘I was not responsible.’ 

192. The most glorious officials and the exalted senate said: ‘When the faith is being decided, this is no excuse.’

Dioscorus tried to excuse his uncanonical action by blaming emperor Theodosius II for barring Eusebius from appearing at Ephesus II - yes, the same emperor that the Oriental Orthodox believer above appealed to regarding the ecumenicity of Ephesus II is the same emperor to whom Dioscorus attempts to shift blame. Dioscorus is justly reprimanded.

When his responses failed, the Oriental Orthodox believer turned to obscenities (link), at which point I ended the conversation. 

There is an irony in having zeal for sinful men rather than God: a distorted elevation of sinful men will always lead to a distorted degradation of others. A distorted anthropology leads to a distorted understanding of history. Both of these follow from a distorted theology, such as when one fails to uphold solus Christus, sola scriptura, soli Deo gloria, sola fide, and sola gratia. Presuppositions matter, and history confirms the principle that we become like that which we worship (Psalm 115:8, Romans 8:29). Let us take care to avoid idolatry.

Veneration, Prayer, and the Possibility of Apostasy: A Dilemma

Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Oriental Orthodox are known to venerate and pray to those whom they consider to be saints who have died: Cyril of Alexandria, Basil of Caesarea, etc. These traditions also are known to reject the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints: those who come to be saints at one point in life are thereafter capable of apostatizing, losing the salvation which they once possessed.

This leads to a question: do these traditions have grounds for believing that it is impossible that those whom they regard as saints apostatized on their deathbeds? Raising this hypothetical may be thought of as offensive, but if it is possible or may even have happened, the real offense would be against Christ.

Supposing it is possible that some of those whom these traditions regard as saints apostatized, is it not also possible that members of these traditions are venerating and praying to someone who is actually in hell? Orthopraxy depends on orthodoxy. If we cannot be sure someone is orthodox, should that not have implications for one's praxis involving them? Surely, veneration of and prayer to one who may be in hell cannot be obligated. I expect most of the aforementioned traditions would reject this supposition.

What is the alternative? Infallible assurance of another's faith (let alone perseverance) is ordinarily impossible. If these traditions argue that it is not possible that those whom they regard as saints apostatized - if one can have infallible assurance that those who are venerated and prayed to remained saints unto death - such can only be the case if they accept an extraordinary source of and means for such knowledge. I can think of no other possibility than that it somehow has been divine revealed which saints persevered.

The mechanism by which these traditions believe God has revealed those who persevered currently differs among these traditions. For example, papal approval obviously will not be viewed as necessary in Eastern Orthodoxy and Oriental Orthodoxy. Actually, though, while Roman Catholics would argue that papal approval is now required by canon law, the process of canonizing saints is apparently revisable. In fact, it seems that even Roman Catholics admit that papal involvement was not only unnecessary but also entirely absent in the first nine centuries (link). A Roman Catholic, then, would have to be open to defending different mechanisms.

Another consideration is that Eastern Orthodoxy and Oriental Orthodoxy consist of autocephalous or self-governing churches. This may lead some churches within these broader traditions to venerate as saints those who are not venerated by another church within the same, broader tradition. For example, within the broader tradition of Oriental Orthodoxy, the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo church venerates John of Damascus (link), whereas the Coptic Orthodox church does not. 

This is interesting in that John of Damascus opposed miaphysitism, a Christology typically characterized as distinctive to the tradition of Oriental Orthodoxy. In fact, as a Chalcedonian, John of Damascus is ironically anathematized by the Ethiopian Orthodox. Here, the problem is even more obvious than the hypothetical I posed above: how can one coherently venerate or pray to a theologian whom he regards as having been anathematized?

One possibility is that anathematizations can be lifted. One case of this happening occurred when the Roman pope and Eastern Orthodox patriarch of Constantinople mutually agreed to nullify the anathemas of 1054 (link). This appears to be mental gymnastics, however, and I know of some within the Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo church who would sooner admit John of Damascus should be removed from their synaxarium than defend the possibility that John of Damascus is venerable or worthy of hearing one's prayers. 

Another possibility is to suggest that a synaxarium (or parish, priest, bishop, or any other vehicle of communicating a list of saints) is only infallible indirectly, i.e. insofar as those who are listed as saints have been declared so by that which is the direct mechanism of divine revelation - say, a synod.

Regardless, the logical end of each of the aforementioned traditions is a hyper-realization of solo ecclesia. These traditions might speak of "historical investigation" that goes into their decision-making. These traditions might speak of only "recognizing" who already is or is not a saint. But this cannot be. 

Given their rejection of the doctrine of the perseverance of the saints, to rule out deathbed apostasies as a live possibility presupposes that these traditions not only have the prerogative of interpreting divine revelation but also have the prerogative of actively creating such ex nihilo, upon which they further obligate the consciences and practices of their members. 

For these traditions, new and public divine revelation is ongoing. They are not merely drawing out inferences from the God-breathed Scriptures but are claiming themselves to be able to draw out the breath of God - through their papal, synodal, or popular voice - at will. Protestations to the contrary will logically entail, as has been pointed out, that members of these traditions could be venerating and praying to someone who is actually in hell.

Infants and Sacraments

My recent post on the role of the church in Christian education (link) brought to mind a post from several years ago in which I argued that only baptized persons can be "participants" in corporate worship:

...elders administer discipline to their sons, the visible flock over which they shepherd. If infants are never members of the visible church, then they are never disciplined by elders. You might discipline your son, but just because his friend is around when you do doesn't mean his friend is a "participant" in that discipline. To the extent one wants to speak of someone as a participant in worship and yet without discipline, I think such a person would be an illegitimate child rather than a son (Hebrews 12:7-8). (link)

To develop this further, unbaptized persons are onlookers. They are spectators rather than participants in liturgy. They are not, during corporate worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders. Just as elders guard the Lord's Supper, so too does baptism fence off participation in worship. Just as the Lord's Supper communicates covenant blessing or judgment, baptism analogously initiates one into either covenant blessing or curse. Sacraments are neither ex opere operato nor ex opere operantis. 

In this way do we see how sacramentology is tied to ecclesiology. Liturgical participants draw near to God. Those who do so in an unworthy manner will be judged more severely than those who do not draw near at all. Judgment begins at the house of God, after all. In a sense, it is for their own protection that unbaptized persons are not counted as participants, although it is obviously not good that they should remain as they are. Insofar as the Lord's Supper is proleptic of the marriage supper of the Lamb, everyone will have to reckon with the [Sabbath] day of the Lord sooner or later.

If Baptists agree - as they should - that unbaptized persons are not, in public worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by elders, that has significant implications. If one denies this by affirming that an elder, in his authoritative capacity as an elder, ought, in public worship, to instruct and discipline the unbaptized, I will only say that such a denial appears either 1) misconstrues liturgical duties of an elder or 2) trades on semantic ambiguity: some teaching, admonishment, etc. is proper or particular to an elder, whereas some teaching or admonishment is informal and not exclusive to that which only an elder can offer. 

Considering the second point first, we can say that in one sense, a Baptist elder can "teach" or "admonish" persons who are not members of the visible church (or even the invisible church). But to the extent that all men are needful of spiritual and physical nourishment, all Christians are capable of "teaching" or "admonishing" others by being living testimonies of the light of the gospel. In living such lives, through the work of the Spirit, some needs of all men may be met. Of course, that one has these needs met does not suggest that all his needs are met.

Case in point, what is being spoken of here is not proper or particular to an elder. I would argue that some of man’s spiritual needs can only be met by being members in the visible church. That is, I am not questioning whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting some needs of persons who are not in the visible church, needs that can also be met by laity in non-liturgical settings. Rather, I question whether Baptist elders are capable of meeting specific needs of unbaptized persons, particularly in the context of worship. 

I think a consistent Baptist would agree that Baptist elders can no more meet certain needs of unbaptized persons than a Presbyterian elder could - until the persons in question are baptized. Recognizing this would avoid the semantic ambiguity alluded to above and confirm a distinction in belief regarding ecclesial scope of authority, as Presbyterians baptize infants whom Baptists would not.

Now, given Baptistic thought that believing parents of infants have no obligation to incorporate said infants into the visible church (quite the contrary, in fact), it looks to be a straightforward inference that these infants are not, during worship, authoritatively led, represented, instructed, or disciplined by Baptist elders. And if a Baptist elder would say that he does not authoritatively lead, represent, instruct, or discipline unbaptized persons – if he attempts to be, as I see it, relatively consistent with Baptistic thought – then while one can certainly tell infants (or, for that matter, any unbaptized persons) that they need full, spiritual nourishment, while they remain unbaptized, a Baptist elder cannot be said authority or responsible for their spiritual nourishment.

This leads to another consideration: it seems Baptist elders should leave the extent to which unbaptized, infants are exposed to "teaching," "admonition," "discipline," etc. that is proper and particular to elders to parental discretion. In other words, if parents decided not to bring their infants to public worship until or unless they have made a credible profession, on what grounds could a Baptist elder voice a legitimate problem with that?

I find that most Christian parents want their infants (or unbaptized) children to be present for worship of God. However, the question is whether this intuition can be backed such that a Baptist elder could, consistent with Baptistic principles, morally obligate parents to bring their infants to worship by and in the midst of a visible, covenant community to which the infants do not, on Baptist grounds, "belong." Worship is a time particularly intended for the visible church to draw near to God, whereas the infant is implicitly told by Baptists that he does not belong as a worshipping member to the visible church. 

That I've met with resistance from Baptists on this question indicates to me some tension between Baptistic principles and Baptistic practice. Indeed, one wonders about the implications of the London Baptist Confession XXII.6 when it states, "God is to be worshipped everywhere in spirit and in truth; as in private families daily..." If infants can be counted as worshippers in private families, why not in the visible church? Or if they cannot be so counted as worshippers in private families, are they then not members of the private family worshipping? The tensions compound.

Turning to another argument for infant baptism, on Baptistic thought, ecclesiology and sacramentology don't mirror soteriology. Soteriologically, Reformed Baptists and Presbyterians agree that the Father monergistically elected and regenerates men, both of which [logically] precede the faith of these men - even dispositional faith (on how this importantly relates to infants, see here). Yet ecclesiologically and sacramentally, Baptists invert the order such that mature articulation of faith ought to precede [a holy parent or parents choosing the] baptism of [their] infants. This is odd, as baptism signifies regeneration.

I find Baptistic ecclesiology, sacramentology, and argumentation to be more unfortunately tied to pragmatism. Interestingly, some Baptistic arguments against infant baptism intentionally highlight this inverted order of events as experienced by members of the invisible church compared to those experienced by members in the visible church, arguing on pragmatic grounds that since infants can't remember their baptisms, the baptisms are of no use. Perhaps this is why some Baptists have historically gone further in expecting an articulation of a memorable conversion experience before admittance into the visible church.

In any case, this is like arguing that because one doesn't remember being named at the time of his naming, there is no use in the naming. On the contrary, those who belong in the midst of the visible covenant community just are those who have been named in baptism (Matthew 28:19). Both in the case of my personal naming and in my baptismal naming, testimonial evidence is sufficient for my "knowing" my own name (at least in an externalist sense); I don't need video evidence or to have been conscious during the namings for the namings to have had and continue to have significance. Not only are such pragmatic objections weak, they function to show how Presbyterian ecclesiology and sacramentology align with Presbyterian soteriology and anthropology. On further ways in which "-ologies of places and people at least tend to mirror one another," see here, here, here, and here. 

Finally, there is the objection that anyone who is baptized also should be allowed to partake of the Lord's Supper. In this way, Baptists actually agree with those of the Federal Vision movement like James B. Jordan, the latter of whose arguments for paedocommunion I find more challenging than pragmatic, Baptistic arguments against infant baptism. Jordan's ecclesiology and sacramentology are connected to his understanding of biblical theology. Take the following, which I cannot recall if I found through Jordan himself:

It is well known that the words of the nineteenth Psalm (1-4), mainly on the strength of St. Paul's adaptation of them (Rom. x. 18), have constantly received a spiritual application. The Church is the firmament which shews the handywork of God; in which day transmits to day and night to night in unbroken succession to the end of time, and to all the world, the wondrous story of the glory and grace of God. (Richard Chenevix Trench, Sacred Latin Poetry, pg. 206, link)

Jordan also argues that this symbolism is biblical (link). One enters the firmament-church through baptism just as entrance into the holy place of the tabernacle required passing by the bronze sea and through the veil. Once in the holy place or firmament, there is, before the priest, bread and wine. Bread is food that enables work, whereas wine signifies rest. Bread is protological and wine is eschatological. Thus, an OT tabernacle priest could eat bread but could not drink wine or sit down, for his work was never finished. 

Jordan further argues that bread and wine throughout the Old Testament tends to stand for a contrast between priestly infancy and kingly maturity. The OT was a time during which the people of God could participate in priestly rites but not kingly rest in the throne room; hence, only the high priest entered the holy of holies, he did so only entered once per year, and even then, his work was never finished such that he could enjoy rest. 

For priests to have drank wine at this point in redemptive history would have implied an over-realized eschatology. An over-realized eschatology is an eschatology which counts as having already happened cosmological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as the return of Christ (thus, Jordan argues against hyper-preterism). 

Before Christ, we were collectively as children and required guardians and tutors (Galatians 3-4). Christ, having completed the groundwork for our salvation and eschatological telos, has enabled His priestly people to move forward in redemptive history as we follow the directive of our enthroned King and drink the wine (signifying His blood) that the priests of the OT could not. Each Lord's day, we can enjoy anticipation of consummated, kingly rest in Him, our perfect sacrifice and High Priest. 

Even if we do not agree with Jordan in all the particulars, there does seem to be something to all this. There is a sort of macroecclesiastic, corporate, redemptive-historical progression the church had to experience before members of the church could drink wine. The whole of that which is invisible to us - the elect, the invisible church - are progressively being individually and visibly gathered into one (WCF XXV.I). As this has been and still is being realized in history, there has also been covenantal progression which, in turn, mirrors the sorts of progressions seen, for instance, on the anthropological, physical, or biological level - i.e. children eat bread long before they drink wine. 

In this way, Presbyterians avoid an over-realized ecclesiology, an ecclesiology which counts as having already happened ecclesiological events which we ought to still anticipate. Whereas now, the visible church has been given new privileges in administering sacraments which were not able to be administered under the older administrations of the covenant of grace, there is still more ingathering, maturing, and progressing to do before the members of the visible church are co-extensive with the invisible church, at which point we will enjoy the privilege of feasting with Christ face to face (Matthew 26:29).

Allowing all this, however, I suggest Jordan misses mirrors at the microecclesiastic, individual, soteriological level. We've just spoken of how the visible body collectively progresses and some analogues to it. At the same time, the whole grows only as the individual members who comprise the whole themselves grow. There must be recognized an individual progression in sanctification toward glorification as individuals put to death the deeds of their bodies (Romans 8:13). 

Just as we want to avoid an over-realized eschatology and over-realized ecclesiology, so too we want to avoid an over-realized soteriology, a soteriology which counts as having already happened soteriological events which we ought to still anticipate - such as the complete eradication of the subjective presence of sin. Jordan recognizes this much and argues against perfectionism (link).

...we must hold that indwelling sin remains and cannot be eradicated until the resurrection. Only the penalty of sin has been removed, and no matter what one does, he cannot reach a sinless state of pure fellowship. Whether he perceives it or not, sin is always present. Confession is important, but it is not magical. Certainly God wants man to confess his sin, but not to manipulate or penetrate the secret will of God. To think that confession can accomplish such things implies perfectionism. 

Rather than take this observation and consider analogues which might be found on this level, however, he follows: 

Today, Chafer’s book has tremendous influence in evangelicalism. Campus Crusade for Christ has popularized what Chafer taught in its Holy Spirit booklet, calling it “spiritual breathing.” Many other groups show the effect of this book in their emphasis on introspection. If confession of sin is emphasized apart from the objective worship of the people of God, it is individualized and internalized. Historically, the Christian Church has practiced objective and corporate confession of sin. It helps to prevent that kind of subjective introspection. It should not be overlooked, however, that Chafer’s theology is essentially Anabaptistic and has extended Anabaptist thought. It separates the objective from the subject in the same way Platonic thought did, and is in the final analysis an internalized subjective theology. 

Any retreat into the inner, personal, and subjective world of man takes him away from God’s righteous objective law. Even the scripture memory of the Pharisees and the Antonians obscured the Scripture itself because it was performed in the context of bad theology and practice. A subjective emphasis carries one away from objectivity. Once this happens, man begins to see his sin in terms of himself. As a result his sin disappears because of his own self deception. In other words, he thinks he is perfect, when he may in fact be in deep sin. Putting it another way, break the mirror and the shame disappears. The knowledge of sin comes via the law. All of the perfectionistic movements of history have rejected both a knowledge of the law and the knowledge of sin.

This is strange. Jordan seems to understand that progression is not merely a corporate phenomenon but a subjective, individual one as well, yet he seems to refuse to admit that dimension has a place in one's doctrine of worship. 

For example, Jordan understands that an over-realized physiology is a physiology which counts as having already happened physiological events which we ought to still anticipate, such as unrealistic physical expectations of those whose bodies have not yet sufficiently developed. As such, Jordan argues that youths should not play football:

...we have to agree with the opinion of physicians that football is unhealthy for young men. The Bible tells us, as does medical science, that our physical frames are not fully set and mature until we are around thirty years old. Up until that time, severe physical stress can do considerable damage to our young, developing bones and cartilege. Thus, God said that the Levites had to be between thirty and fifty years old in order to carry the heavy golden furniture of the Tabernacle (Numbers 4; this is also symbolic, since a man should be at least thirty years old before taking church office upon his shoulders.) Physicians complain that football is too risky for high school and college age youth. Many Christian schools have taken this advice seriously, and have turned to other, less dangerous sports. (link).

Likewise, can we not acknowledge subjective, relevant distinctions in worshippers? In fact, mustn't we acknowledge such distinctions in, say, considering who is qualified to function as an elder? I think Jordan conflates macroecclesial and microecclesial levels, leading him to an over-realized sacramentology, a sacramentology which counts as having already happened sacramental events which some ought to still anticipate - such as setting unrealistic spiritual expectations on ones who have not yet sufficiently developed to examine himself and discern the body (1 Corinthians 11:28-29). Jordan's understanding of this passage flattens it to such an extent that the subjectively diverse experiences mentioned in verse 30 become unintelligible.

When Jordan argues for paedocommunion, I think he misses that a progressive dimension exists in sacramentology just as in most other -ologies. He treats as what is now available to the visible covenant community - due to redemptive-historical progression - as being available to each member of the said community. In short, a fallacy of division.

Much more could be said regarding arguments against paedocommunion (or, for that matter, arguments for infant baptism). Here, I've only tried to organize some thoughts I haven't seen discussed much elsewhere. For those interested, I recommend this book and this series, the first video of which provides further biblical-theological reasons against paedocommunion.

The Role of the Church in Christian Education

I've been thinking about how American education improvement is possible. As I've been reading more about my denomination's history (OPC), I keep coming back to the same issue: what is the role of the church in Christian education?

This is a difficult question. Different stations in life require different standards of education. Of course, to grow in grace and knowledge, all people need some education. The layman will need education sufficient to understand the word of God when it is preached to him or her. A pastor will need much more education than this: he needs to know the needs of his flock to pray for them, he needs to know how to meet certain of those needs, he needs to know how to administer the sacraments, he needs to know what to preach and how preach it, he needs to know how to discipline his flock, and so on. 

Let's take a specific case: a young man who wants to become a pastor. From whom should he receive the sort of education mentioned above? Typically, he goes to seminary. Now, in Doug Douma's The Presbyterian Philosopher, a footnote to chapter 6 reads as follows:

That it was Clark’s opinion that a seminary should be under the authority of a church, not an independent institution, is confirmed by a recollection of Genevieve Long, widow of Clark’s friend Howard Long.—Email to the author from Ellen Schulze, daughter of Genevieve Long

Why does it matter whether seminaries can be legitimately independent institutions? Consider the history of American Presbyterianism. In Gary North's Crossed Fingers, he notes:

The ideology of academic freedom rests on a lie: the idea that the professor's pursuit of truth is sovereign, irrespective of the intent of those who finance this pursuit. This lie is undergirded by another lie: that truth exists independently of the hierarchical authority associated with biblical covenantalism. That is to say, there is supposedly some self-existing, religiously neutral, universal system or methodology of truth that exists apart from the self-revelation of God in the Bible. Academic freedom rests, in short, on the myth of religious neutrality... 

The problem with a seminary is that it trains candidates for the preaching ministry. A seminary screens access to ordination. It can be outside the ecclesiastical chain of command, yet its authority to accept men as students and to graduate only some of them makes it functionally part of the system. In Presbyterianism, the seminary becomes the most important part, for its professors possess great though informal authority, and its graduates inherit denominational authority over time. 

No Presbyterian seminary was ever under extensive ecclesiastical authority, not even Princeton, which was the most subordinate of all the seminaries. The reunion of 1869 did lead to the establishment of veto power over new faculty appointments by the General Assembly. The denomination had only until the next General Assembly meeting to veto any professorial appointment. After that meeting ended, the professor was safe for the remainder of his academic career, even if subsequently de-frocked. By continuing to extend the positive sanction of institutional acceptability to Union Seminary after its secession in 1892, the denomination transferred its inheritance to the mortal enemies of both Calvinism and the Westminster Confession. This transfer was completed in 1936.

North writes more about this topic than I intend to reproduce here. For that reason, his book is much more thoughtful and engaging than, say, Fighting the Good Fight, by OPC historians John Muether and Darryl Hart. This is not to say the latter book is without value.

To observant readers, Muether and Hart beg the same questions as North raises without explicitly asking (let alone answering) them. In describing how Machen's formation of an Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions - pushback against the increasingly liberal PCUSA Board of Foreign Missions in the 1930s - was not unanimously approved amongst conservatives, Muether and Hart insightfully analogize the situation to Machen's formation of Westminster Theological Seminary:

A more troubling concern for Machen and the supporters of the board was the division the board provoked within the conservative cause. Many conservatives within the church, especially some members of Westminster Seminary’s faculty and administration, equally opposed to modernism, argued that the Independent Board was too antagonistic and that it did not serve the best interests of the cause of orthodoxy. Sadly, some of these allies deserted the cause over disagreement on strategy. The irony was that these supporters had gone along with the founding of Westminster, an independent Presbyterian institution. From Machen’s perspective, organizing the Independent Board was no different from establishing Westminster Seminary. Emergency situations required unusual tactics.

...while uncomfortable with the board’s independence, Machen believed the dire situation in the church required an emergency measure. According to Robert Churchill, the Independent Board was never intended to be permanent. It would be dissolved if and when the official board reformed. The Independent Board was a temporary effort to address the desperate state of missions in the church. Moreover, the centralization and bureaucratization of many of the Presbyterian Church’s ministries, missions being only one example, severely restricted efforts to reform denominational agencies by removing them from the more immediate supervision of church courts. (link)

Muether and Hart later discuss how the question of the Independent Board of Foreign Missions was resolved:

Even though the independence of the board from ecclesiastical oversight suggested that the conservative missions agency condoned non-Presbyterian forms of church government, the board’s constitution stated that it would support only those missionaries who vowed to conduct and establish missions based on the Westminster Confession and “the fundamental principles of Presbyterian Church government.” The board’s independence at its founding in 1933, then, was merely a temporary measure to protest the desperate state of the mainline denomination’s missions enterprise. In other words, despite its independence, the board was committed to establishing and conducting Presbyterian, not independent, missions.

Conspicuous in its absence, however, Muether and Hart never return to discuss the permanence of the independency of seminaries... although this too is a question that has been discussed in OPC history. The OPC's Committee on Theological Education - elected by the 11th general assembly - wrote:

The commission given by God to His church requires the conduct on the part of the church of certain forms of theological education. There are, however, strict limits to the scope of the theological education that may properly be undertaken by the church. These limits do not allow for the inclusion in the programme of theological education undertaken by the church of such a curriculum of theological studies as is necessary to equip men for a competent discharge of the Gospel ministry. Since the church must not exceed the terms of its commission and must limit itself to those activities which Holy Scripture establishes as the proper function of the church, it is the judgment of the Committee that it would be a usurpation of authority and a violation of the order which Christ has instituted in His church for the church to undertake the conduct of the comprehensive theological education which is ordinarily and properly undertaken by theological seminaries or by theological faculties in universities...

A church thus certainly may conduct theological education for the training of its ministry. The question now arises whether, in the present historical situation of The Orthodox Presbyterian Church, the church must conduct theological education. Successive general assemblies have judged that Westminster Theological Seminary is providing adequate theological education in accordance with the standards of The Orthodox Presbyterian Church. This committee believes that the judgment of the successive assemblies in this matter is sound, and that Westminster is providing the necessary theological education for prospective ministers of our church. The committee believes that it is thus not necessary for The Orthodox Presbyterian Church to establish a seminary of its own. 

As a layman in the OPC - a denomination I love - this utterly baffles me! I am open to persuasion on this subject, but seminaries and universities didn't even exist for the first millennium following Christ's ascension (see below). Who trained prospective ministers during that time? Do the "terms" of the commission of the church not include discipleship, or would the above committee have argued that one who suggests discipleship ought to include educating prospective ministers would be somehow suggesting a "usurpation of authority," "a violation of the order which Christ has instituted in His church"? 

As an aside, the committee who wrote this (and the below conclusion) was comprised of five men, all of whom were either founding faculty members of WTS or former WTS students (one of whom further went on to become the executive secretary for WTS). Is it not a conflict of interest for people so invested in WTS to be asked to investigate whether WTS is providing "the necessary theological education for prospective ministers of our church," let alone whether the OPC ought to "establish a seminary of its own"? 

In a ReformedForum podcast on The Role of the Seminary in Today's World, Al Mohler, President of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Kentucky, said the following:

A theological seminary bears a stewardship that is absolutely unprecedented. There’s no New Testament seminary. There’s not a seminary found in the New Testament. What you do have is someone - in particular, the example of the apostle Paul - who is teaching Timothy, helping to correct Apollos, being a part of working out the theological formation of those churches and of its teaching office. And the seminary better be that writ large.

Peter Lillback, President of Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, observed:

As goes the pulpit, so goes the church. As goes the church, so goes the pulpit. As goes the seminary, so goes the pulpit. What's whispered in the seminary will be preached in the pulpit.

Strong language. Mohler follows:

I look at the wall of every doctor I go to visit. I want lots of good framed certificates from places I recognize. If I’m going to place my life in your hand, I want medical schools that sound legit: Harvard, Yale, Johns Hopkins, they sound great. But why is it when people think about what’s even more important – which is the care of souls – all of a sudden they think someone can do with something less than the best? I want students who know they’re going to be holding the care of souls in their hands, and thus they need the highest standard of education. I don’t want anyone who’s looking for less than that.

How about students who are looking for more than that? How about students who are looking for schools which want to be held accountable before God’s people for the education they provide precisely because that education is supposed to be designed to be the best means by which students learn to care for souls?

To be clear, I have considered going to seminary, and in the right season of life, I might. I'm all for the idea that Christians take the riches of the world and reappropriate them for Christ. It is often the case that secularists make advancements before God's people do, only for God's people to plunder them. That secular universities preceded seminaries does not mean we should commit a genetic fallacy about the potential good of a seminary. At the same time, reappropriation entails reconsideration of the ways in which the goods can and should be put to use. That includes to whom a seminary and faculty is accountable.

I do not pretend to have answers to every question which could be raised on this point. However, I would not think that the education of prospective fathers within a denomination should be outsourced to those who are not accountable to the hierarchical structure of the denomination. Fathers are responsible for the instruction of their children (Ephesians 6), children who may grow up to themselves be fathers. As in earthly matters, so too, one would think, in heavenly matters. After all, God taught Adam so that Adam could teach his family.

In drawing that analogy, I'm not suggesting that all education must be performed by direct instruction from a father (see below). One might take that as reason to suppose that an independent seminary can perform the work of educating prospective ministers just as a teacher can perform the work of educating one's child. 

However, if I'm not personally teaching my son something, I am nevertheless responsible for who teaches him, how they teach him, and what they teach to him. If I learned nothing else from North's book, I learned the importance of negative sanctions. If someone is teaching my son badly or wrongly, it is my responsibility to rectify the problem, and I have legitimate authority to do so. That might involve correcting the teacher directly, bypassing the teacher's authority (assuming there is someone over him), or removing my son from the charge of the teacher. If I do nothing, I will have failed my son and myself. North describes the consequence of [a failure to impose] sanctions in terms of inheritance. If one is not careful, plunder can work the other way around: Satan looks to plunder our Christian progeny, after all.

Now, what negative sanctions can a denomination currently impose on an independent seminary? A denomination could, through a committee (say), follow the father-son-teacher illustration in the preceding paragraph to a certain extent. In a case that a seminarian exposes a teacher teaching badly or wrongly, a committee could confront a teacher directly. They could also bypass the teacher by speaking to his authorities, i.e. the administration of the seminary. 

But in case neither of those options cause change, what negative sanctions can a denomination really impose? If the seminary is independent, the denomination cannot remove the teacher. Economic sanctions seem to be the one and only remaining option: a denomination might rule out or minimize ordaining those from a seminary whose teachers and teaching don't align with the standards of the denomination.

In one sense, this sanction threatens prospective candidates. That threat might deter prospective candidates from attending said independent seminary... conversely, it might drive prospective candidates into ministering for other denominations. Separately, the sanction also threatens the seminary. But in the case of a relatively smaller denomination such as the OPC, economic sanctions are less likely to make an impact on the policies of an independent seminary.

For economic sanctions to become an effective threat against an independent seminary, a smaller denomination would have to first expand. This leads to an irony: a smaller denomination which prioritizes power through economic sanctions is driven to grow its church to an extent its voice can only be ignored with difficulty. In turn, this renders the denomination more susceptible to the temptation of artificial growth through confessional drift or compromise, the very thing to be avoided. 

In fact, there is already an inherent tension for a denomination to even believe that an independent seminary upon which it relies for pulpit supply is primarily driven by economics. There is less reason to suppose that such a seminary would in the first place remain motivated to confessional stability (as opposed to lucre) while the denomination attempts to grow its own economic leverage.

Under this scenario, then, should the idea of economic sanctions be abandoned? Perhaps the needle can be threaded, but predicating the success of relations between church and seminaries on economics appears challenging. If a denomination or an independent seminary upon which a denomination relies buy that "money talks," prospective ministers are somewhere being taught a bad object lesson. 

Granted, economic considerations cannot be entirely avoided. If an overemphasis on economic considerations might make difficult the relationship between smaller denominations and independent seminaries, one should not underemphasize economic considerations for smaller denominations who might desire the responsibility of overseeing an ecclesiastically accountable seminary but would have difficulty funding one. There are obvious complexities, especially in initial coordination. 

Short of the formation of a denominational seminary - which, by the way, needn't imply that a denomination should always rule out consideration of candidates from independent seminaries - I think the OPC has been wise to invest in MTIOPC (link). I pray MTIOPC continues to bear fruit and might even be a stepping stone.

For those interested in more context to and qualifications of the foregoing thoughts, I recommend James S. Gidley's essay "Faith and Learning in the Presbyterian Ministry" in Confident of Better Things for an even-handed treatment of "whether it is time to develop a new system of ministerial education, and if so, what form it should take" (pg. 265). Gidley is also right to conclude that 1) "neither the educational process nor the educational institution produces ministers" as well as that 2) "institutional arrangements for attaining the end of sound preparation for the gospel ministry are secondary to the preparation itself." While the focus of this post thus far has been on "institutional arrangements," I do agree with Gidley.

Broadening now the scope of the topic, is the education of members and, particularly, covenant children any business of the church? Unlike the prospective ministers, this initial question is less about whether the church is (or is not) responsible for providing the education itself. That becomes relevant only if this initial question should be answered affirmatively. 

If it were to be answered affirmatively, we would have to push the following logic: if the education of covenant children is some business of the church, suppose parents or guardians were negligent in the education of their children. Would it be an overstep for a session to address that? If the negligence persists, would it be an overstep for a session to view it as a disciplinary issue?

While uncomfortable, these are questions that require careful consideration. It might be easier to set them aside altogether. However, a shepherd is responsible for the well-being of his sheep. Can one's education be divorced from one's well-being? 

Allowing this, there is certainly room for freedom when discussing the concrete form in which one's education takes shape. What constitutes "negligence" could be a slippery slope, and I would not argue that the general assembly, presbyteries, or location congregations must be the educators of covenant children for all subject matters. 

Even so, are there lessons to be learned from controversies involving parachurch organizations (e.g. Peniel conferences)? Should the Committee for Christian Education restrict itself to "Sunday school" matters? Does not the OPC have a history of understanding that Christian education requires Christian educators who consciously work from and within a confessional, Christian worldview? 

While the who and how of Christian education should be a matter of liberty, then, it is prudent to consider means by which such education might be made more accessible. How to fund specific types of Christian education is a separate (albeit important) question. Enrolling one's child in a Christian school is a good option - as I was blessed to have attended a Christian school from elementary through high school, I can attest to its benefits - but infeasible for many (cost, scarcity, etc.). 

Homeschooling is another option. Even this, though, isn't workable for all families. As a public school teacher at a Title I school, I'm all too aware of difficulties in terms of childcare. Further, I specialize in teaching just one area of math. I can recall being a new teacher struggling to keep my head above water: I've had to learn how to manage behavior and time, master content, effectively communicate that content, check for understanding, etc. It's one thing for me to do that given my background and that it's for a specific math course (and with peer assistance). I can easily understand how home-schooling can be overwhelming for parents when kids, ages, and subjects are multiplied - not to mention the parental priority of providing basic means of living. That is, for some, public schooling is unavoidable.

The question, then, turns to whether and how a church can help. Analogous to the function of MTIOPC, I know of some local churches who offer supplemental, cohort education. For congregations that can realistically do it, this is a valuable, small scale possibility.

On a larger scale, the OPC has thousands of members. NAPARC has hundreds of thousands. Might it not be possible to form an online network that offers educational options suited to various needs, are freely accessible to all members, and has oversight? Under this scenario, members would actually be modeling what I argue seminaries should be doing. Options could range from weekly tutoring hours to asynchronous lesson videos, each contextualized within a Christian framework.

Is this hopelessly ideal? Undeniably, we live in an individualistic culture, one which approves of the path of least responsibility. But I think there is a place for an online platform with a specific vision to prospective members who are already linked in a concrete way, even if the members don't know each other personally (e.g. if they are members of the same denomination, NAPARC, etc.). 

Even if a petition for oversight was rejected, the idea itself could be implemented. In that case, though, it might require word of mouth to gain traction. I find it theoretically attractive, if practically knotty.