Political Dissent Part Six: Conclusion

In the first article in this series, it was asserted that for the Reformed Presbyterians the primary significance of the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations was the support of political dissent. In subsequent articles, some of the historical and theological development of the mediatorial kingship doctrine in relation to the practice of political dissent was discussed. That the primary significance of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations was the support of political dissent is historically undeniable. While there are clearly other aspects to this doctrine, it is just as clearly its connection with the practice of dissent that made it of special significance for the Reformed Presbyterians.

As we have seen, the genesis of the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations as a distinctive of the Reformed Presbyterians seems to have come as a result of their debates with the Seceders. It appears to have had no particular significance to the Covenanters prior to that. And the rub between the Seceders and the Covenanters was not the Covenants per se, nor was it whether the Covenants were binding on future generations. It was not the Revolution Settlement, either: They had similar views on its shortcomings and the various troubles that resulted from them. So where did the problem lie? Writing in the late nineteenth century in his “The Reformed Presbyterian Church Of Scotland Its Origin And History,” Rev. Matthew Hutchison says this:

“The great difference between the parties concerned the doctrine of civil magistracy, and the attitude that should be maintained towards the existing civil authorities.” 

In a word, it was dissent.

The Seceders had maintained that a magistracy that existed by Divine Providence and which had the consent of the people was a lawful one, and that included the British Crown. This notion was completely unacceptable to the Covenanters, who, as we have observed, had viewed the government as illegitimate (because the Covenants had not been recognized) going back to 1690. The legitimacy question, and therefore the necessity of dissent, was vital to them, and it was where the debate began.

But the controversy between the Seceders and the Covenanters was apparently a protracted one, and “at a later date”, as Hutchison puts it, the “extent” of the mediatorial dominion of Christ became the focus of the debate. Whether that came as a result of the Covenanters making a defense against Gib’s forceful arguments, or if Gib pushed them into a place they might not have otherwise gone, is difficult to say. But whatever the case, within a few decades the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations was viewed as an “essential element” and a “distinguishing mark” of the Reformed Presbyterian Church both in Great Britain and America. And, going forward for some two centuries, this doctrine would be the theological foundation for dissent.

It’s true, of course, that the doctrine and practice of the RPCNA has changed. Synod’s Special Committee writes: 

“As a denomination, we do not believe that principled political dissent (as proposed by Wylie and practiced historically by the RPCNA) is a necessary implication or application of Christ’s universal dominion as Mediator. In other words, it is possible to agree with Wylie’s Christology (i.e. mediatorial dominion) and yet strongly disagree with his theology of the civil magistrate (i.e. principled political dissent from a non covenanted civil government). From a confessional standpoint, the case could be made that the Westminster Standards themselves support such a stance (i.e. mediatorial dominion minus political dissent) in today’s North American context. Historically, RP’s in Scotland have practiced political dissent due to their understanding of the perpetual obligation of the Scottish covenants, and not merely due to their affirmation of Christ’s mediatorial kingship.”

The difficulty here is that it is no longer clear what the special significance of the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ is to the RPCNA. What makes it a “doctrinal lynchpin” and denominational distinctive without its connection to dissent? This lack of clarity is exacerbated by the fact that there are still men in the RPCNA who practice and promote political dissent, and are, at some level, still connecting dissent with the mediatorial kingship of Christ.

The committee acknowledges the diversity of thought with regard to the mediatorial kingship of Christ:

“…there are a wide variety of opinions within the RPCNA regarding the nature and implications of Christ’s mediatorial kingship. At times, one gets the sense that for every ten presbyters, there are at least a dozen different ways of explaining it. Some tend to equate Christ’s mediatorial kingship with a whole host of Biblical duties or moral principles which we actually hold in common with Reformed churches which deny our understanding of Christ’s kingship. Others associate the phrase Christ’s mediatorial kingship with imbalanced forms of political activism which can only serve to dilute the society transforming effects of balanced, gospel centered ministry. Still others perhaps unintentionally, have tended to obscure this doctrine’s distinctive meaning and relevance to our society. It is all the more crucial, therefore, that we take the time to reassert a balanced, Biblical understanding of Jesus Christ as head over all things for the sake of His church.”

While the thoughts expressed by the committee here (and many other places in their 2020 report) are very much appreciated, one is still at a loss to know what makes the mediatorial kingship even in a “balanced, Biblical understanding” (thus, I take it, absent a necessary connection to dissent) a distinctive to the RPCNA? 

And, while we haven’t examined it in a detailed fashion, we have nonetheless seen in this series that political dissent has a checkered history. One can make the case that the practice of dissent can be traced back to the efforts of one man, Sir Robert Hamilton. Hamilton was a man that many consider to be a radical schismatic, causing trouble of one sort or another during the latter half of the seventeenth century nearly everywhere he went. For example, as Mark Jardine has observed, exiled covenanting minister Robert MacWard feared that Hamilton’s hardline views toward a number of covenanters (including MacWard) would have an effect that was worse than that of the indulged ministers: “The ‘cause of the whole frame of Presbyterianism may be more certainly destroyed, than by the other’ as the ‘poor remnant may run down one another with division’. ‘Whosoever adopts this principle’, he warned, ‘hath not the mind of Christ; for there are other patent and obvious ways to witness against all the evils of our way besides these’…”

We have also seen that the RPCNA has made great strides in ridding itself of hyper-emphasis on societal and political concerns. Yet the promotion of political dissent still remains among many.

Hutchison asks a series of important questions: “Was it not an overstraining of Church power to prescribe for the civil or political action of the members?” “… is it right to make every article in a testimony a condition of Church fellowship or to make a certain civil or political attitude towards Government, even though that be assumed on religious grounds, an essential pre-requisite to communion? If it is, where would it end?  Would it not degrade the Church into a political organization?”

It is true, of course, that the rigorous view of church membership Hutchison refers to is no longer required in the RPCNA, as we have already mentioned. But is there not still a danger in connection with Hutchison’s concern when political dissent is promoted so strongly as it is in certain quarters?

I am aware that there are a number of reasons that people give for dissenting nowadays. It’s not always about the U.S. Constitution, or implications of the mediatorial kingship question. Some have cited scriptures such as Deuteronomy 17:15 and II Samuel 23:3. But dissenting on grounds found in these verses presupposes that they apply to all peoples, to all nations, at all times, and in every circumstance. I believe the scriptural examples of Daniel and Joseph clearly demonstrate that presupposition to be false. 

With due respect to my dissenting brothers, I see no compelling reason for political dissent from either scripture or your arguments past or present. At the end of the day, it simply seems to me to be a practice that robs people of their civil rights on completely spurious grounds. It just seems to convey the bewildering message that, although Daniel and Joseph could run pagan countries on behalf of pagan kings, you, Mr. Reformed Presbyterian Church member, shouldn’t vote.

There are a lot of other questions that are raised by some of the matters discussed in this series: What is the nature of a vote? What is the definition of a Christian nation? What is required by the Establishment Principle? Were the Covenanters’ assumptions about a covenanted nation warranted? Some of these are rather difficult questions to wrestle with, particularly the last one. But these are questions for another day and another series of articles. In the meantime, I would encourage anyone reading this to feel completely free to exercise their civil franchise, head out to the polls, and vote.

Political Dissent Part Five: The U.S. Constitution

In the early part of the twentieth century nothing had really changed in the RPCNA with respect to the emphasis it had on societal and political concerns. So much so that the 2020 Synod’s Special Committee on Christ’s Mediatorial Kingship lamented the “implicit moralism” of the 1912 RP Catechism:

“The 1912 RP Catechism essentially strips away the gracious, redemptive overtones of the term mediatorial (as understood historically and confessionally within the RP tradition) and redefines it primarily in terms of authority, law, morality, and social influence. As a result, it spends most of its energies seeking to establish the supreme moral authority of Christ and the Scriptures. Once this is accomplished, it outlines a long list of highly detailed commands, duties, and principles, each of which must be obeyed within the family, the church, the state, voluntary societies, the workplace, and personal recreation. It seeks to regulate virtually every aspect of life with precise Biblical standards of conduct, including total abstention from alcohol and tobacco, the avoidance of ungodly amusements, principled dissent from the US Constitution, cheerful giving to the church, and, of course, strict and unwavering adherence to the Scriptural posture for the worshipper in public prayer (i.e. “either kneeling or standing”).”

The committee further lamented the language used in the 1945 revision of Chapter 30 (“Of the Right of Dissent from a Constitution of Civil Government”) from the Reformed Presbyterian Testimony: 

“…its emphasis and vocabulary are notably different. Rather than viewing Christ’s kingdom primarily in terms of soteriology (e.g. John 3:3; WSC 102) and ecclesiology (e.g. Matt. 16:19; WCF 25.2), it defines the kingdom along broader cultural, ethical, and ideological lines. The danger here, of course, is that Christianity will eventually be reduced to an abstract, intellectual worldview, and that salvation will come to be identified primarily with the outward acceptance of certain moral and political principles. This, in turn, would threaten to undermine the Scriptural emphasis upon the sinner’s need for a personal acceptance of Jesus Christ according to the gospel, leading to a new grace filled life in spiritual fellowship with other believers in the body of Christ.”

By the 1960s, however, political principles were being looked at differently, and in 1962 a revision of Chapter 29 of the Testimony did away with the notion that ungodly governments were illegitimate. By 1967, dissent was largely jettisoned, and the 1970 Testimony rejected the earlier political emphasis of Samuel Wylie and Alexander McLeod concerning the mediatorial dominion of Christ.

But political dissent is still promoted nowadays, and when it is, there is frequently a ferocious attack made on the U.S. Constitution as an inherently wicked document. In that regard, there is precious little difference in present day arguments from those found in Samuel Wylie’s “Two Sons of Oil.” So, we will look briefly at the U.S. Constitution in light of some of Wylie’s arguments (as well as some others that have been made), and, as promised in Part Three of this series, we will also take a look at a couple of Wylie’s anticipated objections to his arguments. 

Wylie had argued that the magistrate was subject to Christ as mediator, and from there argued that the magistrate must be a professing Christian and that the American government itself was immoral and its authority illegitimate. Therefore, no church member should be involved in any activity that would affirm the government’s authority. Oaths of allegiance, participation in civil elections, office holding to which an oath was attached, and so on are prohibited.

Wylie makes the point that the individual state constitutions were positively immoral, but that it didn’t really matter anyway, because, after all, “the state constitutions necessarily bind to the support of the federal, as the bond of national existence; and hence the immorality contained in that instrument becomes common to them all.” But this ignores the federal nature of the republic at that time, where it was well understood that the individual states possessed most of the power, and had a certain level of autonomy.

It also conveniently ignores the reality that at the time of the ratification of the U.S. Constitution in 1788, all thirteen states had some sort of state support of religion. Nine of them had, or previously had, established denominations. A number of them had religious tests for civil office. Even some of those states that didn’t have established denominations still had religious tests. None of this was changed by the ratification of the Bill of Rights in 1791. Changes in that regard did come later, but it was the individual states that made those changes on their own. 

Wylie mentions nothing about the text of the First Amendment, in which it is explicitly stated that “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion…” In 1833, Justice Joseph Story’s “Commentaries on the Constitution of the United States” were published. In this work, Story wrote this:

“Probably at the time of the adoption of the Constitution, and of the amendment to it now under consideration [First Amendment], the general if not the universal sentiment in America was, that Christianity ought to receive encouragement from the State so far as was not incompatible with the private rights of conscience and the freedom of religious worship. An attempt to level all religions, and to make it a matter of state policy to hold all in utter indifference, would have created universal disapprobation, if not universal indignation…

The real object of the First Amendment was, not to countenance, much less to advance Mahometanism, or Judaism, or infidelity, by prostrating Christianity; but to exclude all rivalry among Christian sects, and to prevent any national ecclesiastical establishment, which should give to an hierarchy the exclusive patronage of the national government.” 

The same year that Story’s commentaries were published, the Supreme Court decided the “Barron v. Baltimore” case. It was a case that dealt with the scope of the Bill of Rights in relation to the states. Chief Justice John Marshall, writing for a unanimous court, opined that the first ten “amendments contain no expression indicating an intention to apply them to the State governments. This court cannot so apply them.” 

So while the federal government could not make law with respect to establishments, the states were certainly free to, and, indeed, already had. 

This situation, as a legal matter, remained the same until 1947, when the Supreme Court made its ruling in “Everson v. Board of Education.” This was the first Supreme Court case incorporating the Establishment Clause of the First Amendment through the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, making it apply to the states for the first time. It was in this ruling that the court adopted a new and broad interpretation of the Establishment Clause, with Justice Hugo Black using language taken from a long forgotten letter Thomas Jefferson had written in 1802 referring to a “wall of separation between church and state.”

Wylie anticipates that some would cite the Old Testament examples of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel in objection to his position (curiously, he doesn’t mention Joseph in this connection):

Obj. 4. “But the saints accepted offices, and held places of trust, under heathen princes. See the cases of Ezra, Nehemiah, and Daniel, in the books called by their names. If the saints thus accepted offices, &c., we may conclude, either first, that the power was legitimate–or second, that offices may be held under illegitimate governments, or third, that the saints sinned in accepting them. Ans. The second proposition we grant. The first and third we deny.”

You may ask why this is being mentioned given that the RPCNA dropped the illegitimacy question a long time ago. Wylie’s discussion here deals with such things as office holding and oaths of office. For that reason, it is still very relevant in today’s situation.

Wylie makes a distinction between holding an office under governors and governments (even “absolute” ones), and holding an office under a fixed constitution. The former he submits is lawful, while the latter he says is not, if it is an “immoral” constitution. Even serving an absolute tyrant is acceptable so long as there is no constitution to specify the immorality of the tyrant’s government. Wylie more or less takes it for granted that any government with a constitution would require an office holder to swear allegiance to it, thus a Christian could not hold office in such a situation.

He sees no similarity between Babylon and the United States, because Babylon had “no fixed constitution.” The king’s will was the law, whereas in “the American constitutions almost every thing is specific, and essential to the social compact.” Daniel, according to Wylie, didn’t have to concern himself with swearing allegiance to a constitution in Babylon or Persia, because there wasn’t one. But there clearly was a body of laws that existed in Daniel’s day, the Law of the Medes and the Persians (Daniel 6:12), and to the extent that they were a rule for the state, they functioned as a constitution. And Daniel would have been expected to both obey them and rule by them.

He (Wylie) also goes on to dismiss the objection that the king’s will was indeed the constitution:

“…this, even if admitted, makes no difference.The office was either such as required allegiance to this constitution, or it did not. If the latter, it is the thing contended for, viz., that there was no immoral obligation connected with his office. If the former, he was perjured, not only by breaking it in several instances, but in taking it also, for he swore to a blank, i.e., to perform he knew not what. But there is no account of Daniel’s coming under any such obligation.”

Where Wylie ends up, then, is that one can serve a horrible despot or, as he put it, a “government never so wicked.” That is not a problem, he says. The problem is the constitution, not the despot or the wicked government. More to the point, it’s the oath of allegiance to that constitution.

This whole business seems to be little more than a convenient device: It was Wylie’s attempt to explain away Daniel’s service in Babylon while at the same time obligating Reformed Presbyterians to dissent because of the “immoral” U.S. Constitution.

He does this in the most extreme of terms, as well, suggesting that a Christian may hold office in the most wicked of governments on the one hand, but condemning the U.S. Constitution as completely unsupportable on the other. So, apparently, it would be entirely appropriate to work in a government in the service of a monster, as long as there was no constitution that one had to swear allegiance to. Yet taking an oath to support and defend the U.S. Constitution is unacceptable! This is simply preposterous.

Wylie also anticipates that it would be asked why, since the Constitution is an amendable document, he didn’t advocate electing good men who could address the Constitution’s problems:

Obj. 14. “But the constitution makes provision for its own amendment; if, therefore, you think it wrong, why don’t you join and elect good representatives, who may be instrumental in rectifying it?” Ans. A representative must swear to support the constitution before he can take a seat in the legislative assembly. This oath we have already shown to be immoral, and such as we cannot, in good conscience, swear ourselves; what, therefore, we cannot do ourselves, on account of its immorality, we ought not to employ others to do for us.”

So here, Wylie, having made his case for why the oath is unlawful, now, because of the oath, maintains the vote is unlawful as well. It’s the last loop in the knot with which he attempts to bind the consciences of Reformed Presbyterians. 

It seems apparent that Wylie’s view of the U.S. Constitution was skewed by his failure to understand the nature of the government it defined. Others have made similar errors. Here, we’ll only mention three:

First, the preamble to the Constitution:

“We the People of the United States, in Order to form a more perfect Union, establish Justice, insure domestic Tranquility, provide for the common defence, promote the general Welfare, and secure the Blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.”

It is frequently pointed out that there is no mention of God here, and, certainly it would have been well had the Triune God been invoked. But the objection is over the phrase “We the People,” as if this is a usurpation of God’s prerogatives. The reality is that there is absolutely nothing wrong with the phrase “We the People” or the rest of the preamble, so far as it goes.

As Dr. John Coffey has observed, Samuel Rutherford made it clear that “…the God-given power of government resided…in the community.” In Question IV of “Lex Rex,” Rutherford wrote:

“Conclus. The power of creating a man a king is from the people. 1. Because those who may create this man a king over that man have power to appoint a king; for a comparative action doth positively infer an action.”

In Question XIX, Rutherford adds this:

“Arg. 10. The people in power are superior to the king, because every efficient and constituent cause is more excellent than the effect…

…If the people by other governors, as by heads of families and other choice men, govern themselves and produce these same formal effects of peace, justice, religion, on themselves, which the king doth produce, then is there a power of the same kind, and as excellent as the royal power, in the people; and there is no reason but this power should be held to come immediately from God, as the royal power; for it is every way of the same nature and kind, as I shall prove.” 

Also in Question XIX, he states this: 

the king is inferior to the people; or though he command the people, and so have an executive power of law above them, yet have they a fountain-power above him, because they made him king, and in God’s intention he is given as king for their good, according to this, “Thou shalt feed my people Israel,” and that, “I gave him for a leader of my people.”

Althusius had made the same argument prior to Rutherford. It is indeed “We the People” that established the nation and its constitution. God does not immediately make kings and constitutions. That power is delegated to the people. Thus while the text of the preamble to the U.S. Constitution is missing something to be sure, it nonetheless does not say something that is not true.

Second, Article VI of the Constitution:

“All Debts contracted and Engagements entered into, before the Adoption of this Constitution, shall be as valid against the United States under this Constitution, as under the Confederation.

This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof; and all Treaties made, or which shall be made, under the Authority of the United States, shall be the supreme Law of the Land; and the Judges in every State shall be bound thereby, any Thing in the Constitution or Laws of any State to the Contrary notwithstanding.

The Senators and Representatives before mentioned, and the Members of the several State Legislatures, and all executive and judicial Officers, both of the United States and of the several States, shall be bound by Oath or Affirmation, to support this Constitution; but no religious Test shall ever be required as a Qualification to any Office or public Trust under the United States.”

There are two allegations made with regard to this article. The first is that it states that the Constitution, laws, and treaties under U.S. authority are the supreme law of the land, but nowhere mentions the law of God. The second is that no religious test will be allowed as a qualification for a federal office, and that essentially means anyone of any religious stripe can hold office.

The first allegation, once again, simply misses what the text in question is for. What is contemplated in the second paragraph is civil authority and jurisdiction. The “Supremacy Clause,” as it is known as, is the way the Framers dealt with conflicts of law that would inevitably come between the states and the federal government. In such a conflict, the federal government’s acts would take priority over the acts of the states. This hardly was intended to suggest that the Constitution was a higher law than the law of God.

The second allegation has been already dealt with in the earlier discussion of the First Amendment. The Framers, for better or worse, sought to keep matters of religion confined to the states, and the notion that a follower of Islam, for example, could hold federal office was likely unthinkable to them.

Last, the “3/5ths Clause” of the Constitution:

In Article I, Section 2, the third clause says this:

“Representatives and direct Taxes shall be apportioned among the several States which may be included within this Union, according to their respective Numbers, which shall be determined by adding to the whole Number of free Persons, including those bound to Service for a Term of Years, and excluding Indians not taxed, three fifths of all other Persons.”

The wording in this clause apparently horrifies some people because the assumption is made that what is meant is that some people (namely, black slaves) don’t possess personhood. This is not what the language means at all. This clause deals with the representation and taxation of the states, setting forth the way both would be calculated and apportioned by population. Professor Erik M. Jensen of the Case Western Reserve University Law School writes this:

“The three-fifths rule for counting slaves is often misunderstood. When the Constitutional Convention debated the issue of how to count population for the purposes of representation, the Southern delegates to the Convention would have been pleased if nonvoting slaves had been counted as full persons. That way, the Southern states would have had a greater representation in the House of Representatives. In contrast, some Northern delegates resisted counting slaves at all.

…understood in context, the three-fifths apportionment rule was not necessarily proslavery in principle, for even though slaves were property under the laws of the Southern states, the Constitution itself acknowledged that they were persons. In addition, by tying both representation and direct taxation to apportionment, the Framers hoped to remove any sectional benefit, and thus any proslavery taint, from the special counting rule. In fact, the slave states despised having to give in and accept the Direct Taxes Clause as part of the price of obtaining the three-fifths counting rule.”

In summary, while there can be no doubt that the U.S. Constitution is not without its flaws where the Christian is concerned, it simply is a calumny to say it is inherently wicked or evil. It is certainly true we have much evil in our country that is codified in our laws and maintained to be “constitutional.” But it is also true that the problem lies not with the Constitution but with the courts (primarily the Supreme Court), which with great frequency have twisted the Constitution far from anything resembling the intent of its framers. One could argue that much of our current government is godless and corrupt, and that would certainly be true. But that isn’t what Reformed Presbyterians, past or present, have focused on. Instead they have consistently attacked the Constitution as being wicked from its origin.

There is a great distinction between the omission of mentioning the Triune God in a number of places in the Constitution, and actual hostility to or renunciation of the Triune God. This is a distinction that has been lost on many a Reformed Presbyterian.

It is worthwhile to note, again (see Part Four of this series), that Wylie and McLeod themselves eventually came to the conclusion that the U.S. Constitution’s flaws didn’t prohibit either citizenship or suffrage for the Christian.

Political Dissent Part Four: Change And Division

Through the nineteenth century the Reformed Presbyterians in America saw further development of the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations, and also saw continued ecclesiastical division over the question of political dissent. We’ll briefly examine portions of two important works approved by the Covenanter church during that century: The “Reformation Principles Exhibited” and “The Pittsburgh Covenant of 1871.” We will then briefly look at three schisms that took place in the church during that same time period. Although much could be said about it, we will not take up issues and events in connection with slavery and the American Civil War.

The “Reformation Principles Exhibited,” a mammoth confessional and constitutional work, was approved by the Reformed Presbyterian Church of the United States of North America in 1806. It included the Westminster Standards and a doctrinal testimony on the church’s positions as well as condemnations of what were seen as errors by the church. Perhaps no new ground was broken here, but there is a clear commitment to the universal mediatorial authority of Christ. In Chapter 20, “Of Christ’s Headship,” it says the following:

“3. Submission is due to the mediatory authority, from all the intelligent creatures of God; men, not only as saints and church-members, but also in every possible relation and condition, are under obligation to subserve his gracious purposes according to his law. The holy angels minister under his directions to the heirs of salvation.

4. The administration of the kingdom of Providence is subordinate to the dispensation of grace; Christ Jesus, as the head of the Church, rules by his infinite power, and in perfect wisdom and justice, over all parts of the inanimate and irrational creation, and over all wicked men and devils; making them, and all their changes, counsels, and efforts subservient to the manifestation of God’s glory, in the system of redemption.”

In Chapter 29, “Of Civil Government,” the question of governmental authority is dealt with:

3. God, the supreme governor, is the fountain of all power and authority, and civil magistrates are his deputies: In the administration of government, obedience is due to their lawful commands for conscience sake; but no power, which deprives the subject of civil liberty—which wantonly squanders his property, and sports with his life—or which authorizes false religion, (however it may exist, according to divine Providence,) is approved of, or sanctioned by God, or ought to be esteemed or supported by man as a moral institution.

In the same chapter, there is an exception given to the previous statement on authority:

5. It is lawful for Christians residing in nations in which the light of the gospel has not been generally diffused, to continue in submission to such authority as may exist over them, agreeably to the law of nature, which, where revelation does not exist, is the only standard of civil duty. In such cases the infidelity of the ruler cannot make void the just authority conferred upon him by the constitution.

In Chapter 30, “Of the Right of Dissent from a Constitution of Civil Government,” the cause for dissent is set forth, but also the appropriateness of paying taxes is affirmed– even to a government that is immoral and lacks legitimate authority:

“2. It is the duty of Christians, for the sake of peace and order, and in humble resignation to God’s good providence, to conform to the common regulations of society in things lawful; but to profess allegiance to no constitution of government which is in hostility to the kingdom of Christ, the Head of the Church, and the Prince of the kings of the earth.

3. Virtuous persons, who, in their private capacity, are endeavoring to further the true end of civil government, the maintenance of peace and quietness in all godliness and honesty, although they dissent from the constitution of civil government of the nation in which they reside, have a right to protection in their lives, liberties, and property, they contributing their proportion of the common taxation; but they are not to act inconsistently with their declared dissent, and it would be tyranny to constrain them to such measures.”

As early as 1802, the Presbytery had directed that a Form of Covenant be prepared that would be similar in “spirit” to the National and Solemn League. It took decades for one to be adopted and subscribed to, but Synod and the “several congregations” finally did that in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania in May of 1871.

This “Covenant of 1871” returns to M’Leod’s use of the word “King” in relation to Christ’s mediatorial authority.

“3. Persuaded that God is the source of all legitimate power; that He has instituted civil government for His own glory and the good of man; that He has appointed His Son, the Mediator, to headship over the nations; and that the Bible is the supreme law and rule in national as in all other things, we will maintain the responsibility of nations to God, the rightful dominion of Jesus Christ over the commonwealth, and the obligation of nations to legislate in conformity with the written Word. We take ourselves sacredly bound to regulate all our civil relations, attachments, professions and deportment, by our allegiance and loyalty to the Lord, our King, Lawgiver and Judge; and by this, our oath, we are pledged to promote the interests of public order and justice, to support cheerfully whatever is for the good of the commonwealth in which we dwell, and to pursue this object in all things not forbidden by the law of God, or inconsistent with public dissent from an unscriptural and immoral civil power.

We will pray and labor for the peace and welfare of our country, and for its reformation by a constitutional recognition of God as the source of all power, of Jesus Christ as the Ruler of Nations, of the Holy Scriptures as the supreme rule, and of the true Christian religion; and we will continue to refuse to incorporate by any act, with the political body, until this blessed reformation has been secured.

5. Rejoicing that the enthroned Mediator is not only King in Zion, but King over all the earth, and recognizing the obligation of His command to go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature, and to teach all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, and resting with faith in the promise of His perpetual presence as the pledge of success, we hereby dedicate ourselves to the great work of making known God’s light and salvation among the nations, and to this end will labor that the Church may be provided with an earnest, self-denying and able ministry. Profoundly conscious of past remissness and neglect, we will henceforth, by our prayers, pecuniary contributions and personal exertions, seek the revival of pure and undefiled religion, the conversion of Jews and Gentiles to Christ, that all men may be blessed in Him, and that all nations may call Him blessed.”

The RPCNA Synod’s Special Committee on Christ’s Mediatorial Kingship made some further observations regarding the Covenant of 1871 in its 2020 Report. For the committee, there was a new emphasis and a “repackaging of the doctrine of Christ’s kingship” found in the Covenant: 

“It should also be noted that the Covenant of 1871 being Sworn and Subscribed by the Synod of the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America… and by the several congregations was essentially an ecclesiastical covenant rather than a national covenant. Nevertheless, it is striking that so much of its contents should be devoted to matters of social, political, cultural, and ideological import. 

When compared with the content and emphasis of the AD&T or RPE, one can clearly discern a growing fascination with cultural warfare and political involvement, particularly in connection with Christ’s universal dominion. This is not to say that the older documents are devoid of political content; they are most certainly not. However, the nineteenth century brought an increased emphasis upon the church’s role as an agent for cultural change, and with this change in emphasis came a repackaging of the doctrine of Christ’s kingship. Rather than associating this doctrine primarily with the saving power of the gospel and the missionary expansion of the church the nineteenth century RPCNA came to link it more closely with the political implications of the gospel and the cultural influence of the church. Both the older view and the newer view entertained robust notions of Christian political theory. However, the newer view tended to place a far greater proportion of its emphasis upon such matters, especially in connection with Christ’s universal dominion.”

Three schisms took place during the 19th century: One in 1833 between the “New Lights” and the “Old Lights,” another in 1840 in which the so-called “Steelites” (a reference to their most prominent leader, David Steele) left to establish the Reformed Presbytery, and finally one in 1891 referred to as the “East End Split.” Two of these three divisions were largely over the matter of political dissent.

Writing about the 1833 schism, Noah Bailey says this:

“Just two years after the RP Synod met for the first time, the first uniquely American challenge arose. Since John Adam’s presidency, pro-British sentiment was considered seditious. When war with Britain resumed in 1812, the line was drawn. Failure to support the war effort was tantamount to treason. Consequently, the Covenanters approved a modified oath allegiance to allow service in the American army. Moreover, Alexander McLeod (M’Leod) launched from his pulpit a rousing approbation of the anti-British cause; after all, the U.S Constitution was less evil than Britain’s. This moderate concession slowly expanded. In 1821, the Synod modified its ruling on serving on juries. While they upheld their prohibition, they also shifted the burden of proof from those who wanted to serve (i.e. prove such service is legitimate) to those who wished to dissent (prove that it is forbidden). Through the decade, the Covenanters felt a growing discontent with their isolation and position on dissent.

Fearing growing discontent, James R. Willson, pastor at the Coldenham congregation, presented a conservative paper reiterating the obligation of political dissent in 1830. Synod’s committee to respond to the paper was chaired by Alexander McLeod and when the committee submitted an opposing paper, Synod was split. Open dialogue in the church paper began and two years of debate ensued. In April 1832, Samuel B. Wylie proposed a solution (to) the Eastern Sub-Synod: the principle of Christ’s kingship could be considered essential doctrine while the practice of dissent could be considered a Christian liberty. He was ordered by the Sub-Synod to publish his paper on their behalf, omitting the section on dissent and Christian liberty; he published it all. He and the members of his committee were censured for their disobedience. When a censured minister rose to give the retiring moderator’s address at the 1833 meeting of Synod, the court divided. Half the church, the “New Lights”, followed McLeod and Wylie; the other half, the “Old Lights”, followed Willson. The Old Light Covenanters then made political dissent a condition for membership, which stood until 1967. Adamant opposition to participating in the political system which refused to acknowledge Jesus became a hallmark of the American Covenanters.”

So here is a surprising development indeed! The “New Lights,” with their moderating views on dissent, were being led away from the “Old Light” positions by McLeod and Wylie, the two men whose work had done so much to establish those very positions in America. There is a fascinating passage in Wylie’s “Memoir of Alexander McLeod”  in which he speaks a bit as to the evident changes in thought and practice that both men had come to embrace:

“He (McLeod) exhorted to hold fast by the principles of the Testimony; and with regard to our civil relations, to attend to the maxim which the plainest and most unlettered Christian could easily understand and apply, “Hold no communion in immorality, with nations, with churches, or with individuals.” And he further observed, with regard to “what may be immorality in the application of the laws, institutions, and enactments of government, in most cases, should be left to the decision of the ecclesiastical judicatories of the particular district.” He was not opposed to naturalization. He was, himself, long before his death, a citizen of the United States; and, on his visit to his native land, he had the protection which the American government affords and extends to its citizens. He had just shown that he made this matter no term of communion, by sitting down at the Lord’s table with his Philadelphia brother, who had recently exercised the right of suffrage as a citizen of the United States.”

“Here it may be proper to remark, that although Dr. Wylie’s practice in voting was a novel thing, with him, in his opinion, it involved no change of principle. He had changed his view of the American government and Federal Constitution; but his principles on civil government, the headship of the Mediator, and the subjection of all power and dominion to his rightful control, remained unaltered. He firmly believes that the principles of the American Synod, of which he has the honor to be a member, are on these points the same as those of Knox , Rutherford, and Renwick, and that if there may appear, on superficial observation, to be any difference, it is not in themselves that difference exists, but in their greater brightness, being still further purified from the stains of the dark ages ; but the principle is no more changed, than an individual is changed by putting on a different and more suitable costume.”

In 1840, another division occurred (within the “Old Lights” church) when ministers David Steele and Robert Lusk, along with three elders, left the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America over the Synod’s failure to take up a petition Steele had submitted to the Synod concerning the denomination’s laxness toward “voluntary associations.” Steele had other concerns as well, including political activity by church members, but it appears that the flash point for him, Lusk, and the others was more ecclesiastical than anything else. 

In 1891, the so-called “East End Split” took place. Once again, the schism was about the issue of political activity. Writing in 1893, Matthew Hutchison described it this way:

“For a considerable time, some efforts had been made to obtain such amendments in the Constitution of the States, as would make it possible for them to swear allegiance—such as, the recognition of God and of the Royal Supremacy of Christ as Mediator. In 1889, the Synod, by a majority, declared, that voting for amendments to the State Constitutions, was not inconsistent with the position of political dissent maintained by the Church. A minority strongly held that to vote on amendments as truly incorporates the voter with the political body as does voting for officers of Government, and this position seems reasonable and consistent. The controversy on this subject is not yet ended. In 1891, five ministers were expelled from the Pittsburgh Presbytery, for maintaining that the exercise of the franchise should be left to the conscience and judgment of individuals; and since that time a still larger number have left the Synod on the same ground.”

Writing on the same subject, D.M. Carson observed: “The negative position of dissent was sharply challenged by a group of young ministers in the 1880’s, who were suspended for their beliefs in 1891, and took some members of the church with them into other denominations. Despite this raising of the issue, remaining church members continued to refuse to vote or hold office.”

In summary, the two documents approved by the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America in the nineteenth century which we have surveyed in this perfunctory way (“The Reformation Principles Exhibited” and the “Covenant of 1871”), perhaps demonstrate a change not so much in substance of the mediatorial kingship doctrine but rather in terminology and emphasis from the early part of the century to the latter. In the “Reformation Principles Exhibited”, as was mentioned earlier, mediatorial “authority” is used in connection with Christ’s relation to the civil, whereas “king” is reserved for use in relation to the church. In the “Covenant of 1871” the terminology changes, and in point five explicitly states that the “Mediator is not only King in Zion, but King over all the earth.” 

Its emphasis has changed from the earlier work as well, as a greater focus is on the “political and cultural.” But the heavy emphasis on those things had, of course, been present in the Reformed Presbyterian Church at the beginning of the century as well as the end. In the portion of the report that discusses Alexander McLeod, the Synod’s Special Committee on Christ’s Mediatorial Kingship writes this, quoting from McLeod’s “Messiah, Governor of the Nations of the Earth” (1803):

“In describing the work of the gospel ministry, McLeod exhorts ministers to preach more frequently about Biblical principles of civil government and to promote the subjection of the state to Christ. “While you profess to love the dear Redeemer, and lead sinners to his cross for pardon and peace, will you not exalt him, and demand obedience to him from the kings of the earth.” Moreover, since the Bible speaks of “remarkable periods of history” and “the influence of political movements upon the church” so these themes are to be “held up for imitation” by preachers of the gospel in every age.”

As to the divisions within the church, the matter of political dissent continued to be a problem. As time passed, more members of the church began to question the necessity of dissent in the American situation. And, it should be remembered, dissent came at a cost to those who practiced it. Reformed Presbyterian immigrants could not become citizens, thus they were not eligible for the benefits granted in the Homestead Act. They could not vote, hold civil office, or serve on juries. They also could not serve in the military (with some notable exceptions in which Synod approved alternative loyalty oaths).

Wylie’s proposal in 1832 to make the medatorial kingship of Christ over the nations to be an essential doctrine of the church and the practice of dissent to be a matter of Christian liberty represented a monumental change in position. His insistence that his principles had not changed, but his views on the “American government and the Federal Constitution” had changed, seems rather bewildering. His attempt to make political dissent optional given his principles as they were set forth in “The Two Sons of Oil” showed an inconsistency of the first order. This inconsistency was a price that he may have been willing to pay in order to dispense with the problem of dissent.

But for those who remained in the “Old Light” church after the schism in 1833, the practice of dissent remained of the utmost importance. The same can be said with respect to those who remained in the church after the “East End Split” of 1891. The emphasis on the “political and cultural” would be strong through the end of the nineteenth century. It would continue well into the twentieth.

Political Dissent Part Three: A Shift To A New Cause

The Reformed Presbyterian dissenters in Colonial America initially held on to their view that the colonies under the control of the British Crown were obliged to uphold the Solemn League and Covenant. Ulsterman Alexander Craighead provided leadership to the colonial Societies in the 1740s, and promoted the idea of continuing obligation to the covenants sworn to in Scotland a century earlier.

By the end of the eighteenth century, however, this commitment was being called into question by colonial Society members and new Covenanter immigrants alike. Was there still an obligation to the covenants now that a new American nation had been formed? This question played an important role in bringing the Reformed Presbyterian Church ministers and most of its members into the formation of a new church, the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church, in 1782.

Another Ulsterman, James McKinney, arrived in America in 1793 and thus found a remnant Society with no church. He lamented the situation, suggesting that those who had left had “wearied of the cross.” The American Revolution had “afforded a pretext for casting it away.” It was under McKinney’s leadership that the Reformed Presbyterian Church was re-established in America. It was also under his leadership that the basis of dissent was “shifted,” as D.M. Carson put it, from the covenants to the “secular nature of the new American constitution.” Put another way, as did Noah Bailey, “The Covenanters had a new cause.”

It was for this “new cause” that Samuel Wylie developed his argument in “Two Sons of Oil.” It was the first comprehensive work on dissent from an American perspective. As we have already noted in Part One of this series, Wylie argued that the American government was both immoral and illegitimate, asserting early in his presentation that the magistrate is subject to Christ as Mediator. On the latter point, he wrote this:

“Though both these branches (Magistracy and Ministry) are put under the Mediator’s control, yet they are so, under different regulations. Ecclesiastical power is delegated to him in such a manner, that all ordinances and institutions, necessary to the formal organization of a visible church, flow immediately from him as Mediator. Matt. xvi. 18. He is the builder of the church, the author of all her sacred institutions. All ecclesiastical functionaries, likewise, receive their authority from him, in the same character, for every part of their administration. Hence, Matt. xvi. 19, he commits unto them the keys of the kingdom, and the exclusive power of binding and loosing. But civil power is under a different regulation. It flows immediately from God Creator, as the Governor of the universe. Jer. x. 7: “Who would not fear thee, O King of nations?” It existed previously to the fall, and would necessarily have existed, even had we never revolted against God; though no doubt, in that case, it would not have been clothed in some of its present modifications. Man’s subjection to the moral government of his Maker would have then been similar to that of beings of a more dignified order.”

Later on he asserts the necessity of a professing magistrate:

“Another part of their character, is, a profession of Christianity. For a Christian people to appoint a Deist to govern them, to say nothing of its repugnancy to the divine law, is even shameful. It is just like the trees in Jotham’s parable, Judges, ix. 14. “Then said all the trees unto the bramble, Come thou, and reign over us.” Because they could not find a tree of more generous growth, to govern them. But this is contrary to the express command of God. Deut. xvii 15. “Thou shalt in any wise set him king over thee, whom the Lord thy God shall choose: one from among thy brethren shalt thou set king over thee; ;thou mayest not set a stranger over thee, which is not thy brother.” Is it to be expected that the man, who is not a brother in the profession of the religion of Jesus, but an obstinate Infidel, will make his administration bend to the interests of Immanuel, whose existence he denies, whose religion he mocks, and whose kingdom he believes to be fictitious?”

Wylie eventually acknowledges that the American government was the best in existence, yet it was still immoral and he was compelled to say so:

“…we consider the American government, with all its evils, the best now existing in the Christian world; and, if we know the sentiments of our own souls upon this subject, desire nothing more than its reformation, happiness and prosperity; though we feel bound by our duty to God, to testify against all its immoralities.”

Lest there was any question about where he stood on the legitimacy of the government, he was explicit:

“We ought to do no act which may justly be considered an homologation of their illegitimate authority.”

He then relates “…the reasons why we cannot yield obedience, for conscience sake, to the present civil authority in North America.” They are laid out in a series of arguments that Carson summarizes as follows:

“…the federal constitution does not recognize the existence of God; the constitutions, both state and federal, establish a toleration of religion which recognizes heresy on an equal footing with truth; there is no provision for the interest of true religion; there is no religious test for office-holders; and finally the recognition of the principle of slavery.”

Wylie then poses a number of anticipated objections and attempts to answer them. We will come back to a couple of those later.

Wylie’s work was exclusively in relation to the new American situation and the “new cause.” He said precious little about the Covenants, and the focus of his attack was the U.S. Constitution. He had taken McKinney’s principles and developed them and fleshed out their application. But, once again, foundational to his position was the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations.

Political Dissent Part Two: The Doctrine Articulated

While the Covenanters and the Seceders in the 18th century were in agreement on the desirability of a Christian magistrate and a Christian civil government, the Covenanters viewed these things as absolutely essential in order for a government to legitimately exist. The Seceders, for their part, maintained that it was one thing to say that these things should be, but that it was quite another to suggest that they must be or else a government is to be viewed as illegitimate.

Speaking of the magistrate in this context, Adam Gib writes this in his “Display of Secession-Testimony”: “It is manifest, therefore, that the due measure and performance of scriptural qualifications and duties, -belongs not to the being and validity of the Magistrate’s office; but to the WELL-BEING and Usefulness thereof.”

The Covenanters repudiated this distinction in no uncertain terms. In the “Ploughlandhead Testimony,” they had this (among many other things) to say in reply: “Seceders maintain, that the people, without regard to scriptural qualifications, have an essential right to choose whom they please to the exercise of civil government, and that whomsoever they choose are lawful magistrates; and thus make the great ordinance of magistracy dependent on the uncertain and corrupt will of man. But that this anarchical system is not of divine authority, but owes its origin to their own invention.”

In the course of this debate with the Seceders the subject of the mediatorial kingship of Christ perhaps first came into focus. Matthew Hutchison, writing in his work “The Reformed Presbyterian Church in Scotland: Its Origin and History, 1680-1876” speaks to this: 

“The controversy continued for a long time, and at a later date it became in large measure a discussion as to the extent of the Mediatorial Dominion of Christ; and especially as to whether civil government was among the “all things” put under Christ, whether as Mediator He is King of nations, or only of the Church, which is His proper kingdom, while as God He rules the nations in subservience to the interests of the Church.”

William Symington’s great work on the mediatorial kingship (or, as he preferred, mediatorial dominion) “Messiah the Prince” appeared in 1839. It is a comprehensive work dealing with the issue in every aspect from the perspective that Christ rules the nations as mediator. By the time Symington’s work was published, the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations was well established among Reformed Presbyterians, and was included in the Scottish Reformed Presbyterian Testimony of 1842. 

Symington argues that civil society is “founded in nature, and not in grace” but “originates with God as the God of nature.” He goes on to say that nations “in a certain sense…derive even their existence from Christ.” Civil government is an ordinance of God and an ordinance of man. It is an ordinance of man only insofar as the people may fix constitutions, elect rulers, and so on. He warns that it is “not to be inferred from this, that it depends solely on the will of man whether civil institution should be set up in a country at all, that civil society originates wholly in voluntary compact, or that whatever is sanctioned by the public will is necessarily right, and consequently obligatory.”

Further, says Symington, “It is admitted that God has invested the people with power in political matters, and that the people of course have a right to the exercise of this power; but it is at the same time to be attentively observed that he has given them a law by which they are to be regulated in the use of this power, and it is only when they act according to the law given them that their determinations and institutions possess the sanction and obligation of righteousness.”

He makes the point that the “electors” are also under the obligation to Christ’s mediatorial dominion: “Nor is it only to the qualifications of the rulers whom they choose, that, out of respect to the will and glory of Christ, men are bound to attend, but also to their own qualifications as electors. This point is too apt to be forgotten. It is, however, one of great importance. Where the elective franchise is liberally enjoyed, everything may be said to depend upon the manner in which it is exercised. Electors, who are themselves irreligious and immoral, are not likely to set a high value on the existence of proper qualifications in those whom they choose to represent them. To such, the absence of these qualities is apt rather to prove a recommendation. But the choice of a representative, it should be borne in mind, is a civil right, the exercise of which involves, to a great extent, the welfare of the nation. It is not the individual himself alone that suffers from an improper use of this privilege, but the community at large. It is, consequently, of immense moment, that he exercise it, not from passion, fancy, or prejudice, but under the guidance of sound Christian principle. He is bound to subject his judgment and inclinations in this matter to the control of God’s Word.”

Symington makes it clear that he believes “immoral systems of government” aren’t merely failing to meet the standards of scripture with respect to Christ’s mediatorial kingship over them, but that these systems of government are indeed unlawful authorities. He does state that Christians should nonetheless submit to them, but not because they possess lawful authority: “Lawful authority is for the most part, though not always, to be obeyed; unlawful authority, never. Lawful authority may be employed to enjoin what is not lawful; and in this case it is not to be obeyed. Unlawful authority may be employed to enjoin what is lawful; and, in this case also, it is not to be obeyed. What, it may be said, not to be obeyed even when requiring what is right! Certainly not. The thing enjoined is to be done; not, however, because enjoined, but from respect to its own intrinsic obligation springing from the law and will of God.”

He illustrates this idea as follows:

“A wicked neighbour, usurping an authority which does not belong to him, intrudes into my dwelling and commands me to worship God, to love my wife, and to bring up my children in the fear of the Lord. These are lawful commands; and it is at my peril that I neglect them; but in doing them I am not, surely, obeying the intruder. This distinction, betwixt obedience to lawful commands out of respect to the authority enjoining them, and obedience to them out of respect to their own intrinsic obligation, is a most important one, in a practical point of view. It enables Christians, living under iniquitous and anti-christian powers, to do much that is calculated to promote the good of the community, and their own civil interests, without giving the sanction of their approbation to those who renounce the authority and disregard the law of Christ, and thus violating their oath of allegiance to the Prince of the kings of the earth.”

So, for Symington, the failure of a government to recognize Christ’s rightful authority doesn’t make it simply immoral. Rather, the failure of a government to recognize Christ’s rightful authority over it makes its authority unlawful. It is rendered illegitimate. The people living in such a nation may indeed submit to such a government, but only insofar as whatever that submission may require is intrinsically lawful, and that submission does not give approbation to the illegitimate government. They must “avoid whatever is calculated to involve them in a participation of its guilt.”

Thus, he makes the connection between the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations and political dissent certain: The civil government, the rulers within it, and the people that may elect them are all bound to various duties under Christ as mediator. Failure in those duties by a government renders it illegitimate, and it becomes the duty of Christians living under such a government to practice political dissent.

Alexander M’Leod had taken a similar position in his 1803 work “Messiah, Governor of the Nations of the Earth.” After arguing that Christ, as mediator, rules the nations, he raises a possible objection:

“OBJECTION VI. The admission of Christ’s headship over the nations would involve us in a dilemma from which we could not be extricated. If Messiah be King of nations, and christians have sworn allegiance to him, they cannot consistently be in allegiance to any civil government which is opposed to the kingdom of Christ. No man can serve two masters. And yet the scriptures command every soul to be subject to the higher powers, and teach that the powers that be are ordained of God. Rom. 13:1. This is an objection with which I have often met. It appears to be a formidable one; and it has assuredly influenced many serious minds to call in question the duty of contending for the doctrine of Christ’s headship over the nations, as a part of that faith which was once delivered to the saints.”

In answering this objection, among other things, he says this:

“It is impossible such a dilemma could exist, as that you must necessarily renounce obedience to the Prince of the kings of the earth, or transgress the commands of his Heavenly Father. God’s precepts are not contradictory. Whatever he has appointed is in subserviency to the Mediator. He does not approve, he cannot sanction with his authority, that government which is constituted upon immoral principles. To an immoral constitution he never shall require the obedience, the allegiance, the subscription, or the support of his subjects.

Such powers as oppose God or Christ, are not ordained of God, in any other sense, than the prince of the power of the air, whom they serve, is; nor does God require that every soul should obey them. The authority which he sanctions, and to which he demands conscientious allegiance, is one which is a terror to them who do evil, and a praise to them who do well. [Rom. 13:3.] Submission to such is submission to God; allegiance to governments of a contrary character is rebellion against Heaven. God is, however, a God of order, and your weapons, Christians, are not carnal. Conformity to the general order of society is a duty, provided this can be done without violating the divine law. If this be all that is meant by submission to government, there is no inconsistency in it, with allegiance to the King of nations.”

Both Symington and M’Leod, then, as had Samuel Wylie, saw the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations as demanding a distinctively Christian civil government not only for the benefit of that government, but for that government’s very existential claim. It is on this notion that the practice of political dissent now rested.

Political Dissent Part One: A Practice Searches For A Doctrine

Here in the U.S. another national election is just a few weeks away now, and in some reformed and presbyterian circles the discussion of “political dissent” is already well underway.

I had hoped to write a series of articles on the subject of presbyterian political theory, focusing primarily on Scottish church history in two time periods: The first from 1638 to the Revolution Settlement, and then from the Revolution Settlement  to 1743 when the first Reformed Presbytery was constituted. I also had hoped to discuss the Reformed Presbyterians that emigrated to North America. I may eventually complete such a series, but with the election fast approaching I see the need to express some thoughts much more briefly. For that reason there will be a lot of material relative to this subject that simply won’t be covered.

It’s important for me to communicate, first of all, that I mean no offense to anyone who I may manage to annoy with what I write. I know a number of good men who will disagree with me in no small way. They are my brothers in Christ. We will remain brethren even if we disagree. What I write, I write with love for my brethren and would only ask that they read what I write keeping that in mind.

So, in these reformed and presbyterian circles I mentioned earlier, what is “political dissent?” In short, one may define it as a refusal to engage in such things as a vote, the taking of certain civil oaths, or holding public office. Historically speaking, both in Scotland and in the United States, certain presbyterian churches demanded this from their members as a term of communion.

The reason for the practice of political dissent in Scotland centuries ago was chiefly over the government’s failure to recognize the National Covenant and the Solemn League and Covenant at the time of the Revolution Settlement. Those who dissented (variously known as the “Society Folk,” “Cameronians,” “Covenanters,” and, eventually, “Reformed Presbyterians”) took the position that neither the government of King William or the Church of Scotland were legitimate as a result. While Covenanter and field preacher Alexander Shields had returned to the Church of Scotland at the Revolution Settlement and had labored to bring the societies back in with him, Sir Robert Hamilton persuaded a minority of the United Societies to remain outside the Church of Scotland, and, to not acknowledge the “uncovenanted sovereign of these covenanted nations.”

The Reformed Presbyterian dissenters in Colonial America held on to these views initially, believing that the colonies under the control of the British Crown were obliged to uphold the Solemn League and Covenant. Once a new nation was founded and subsequently the Constitution was ratified, however, they took a different approach that still allowed them to continue their tradition of political dissent:  They viewed the government of the United States as illegitimate upon the grounds that it did not recognize the crown rights of Jesus Christ, and that it did give legal recognition of slavery.

In Scotland and the United States, then, both governments being illegitimate in their eyes, these dissenters could not engage in any activity that would affirm the “illegitimate authority” of these governments. This caused the Society Folk in Scotland in particular all sorts of difficulties after the Revolution Settlement: Society members weren’t allowed to have any interaction with state or church, therefore they had no access to marriage, baptism, civil licenses and the like, and were debarred from society membership if any such interaction took place.

Perhaps since the time of their controversy with the Seceders in the eighteenth century, Reformed Presbyterians have upheld the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations. Some would contend that the Covenanters upheld the doctrine in the seventeenth century as well. In any case, by the nineteenth century the doctrine was apparently viewed as a distinctive of the Reformed Presbyterian Church, with writers in both America and Britain dealing with the subject.

It’s not the purpose of this piece to examine the history and theology of this doctrine in any detail. Suffice it to say, for the purposes of this writing, that in my opinion the mediatorial kingship of Christ is significant for the Reformed Presbyterians primarily for two reasons: One, to support the establishment principle and, two, to support the notion of political dissent. Historically, a number of other presbyterian denominations with no relation to the Reformed Presbyterians have also upheld the establishment principle, but with no particular emphasis on the mediatorial kingship of Christ. It seems to be clear, then, for the Reformed Presbyterians, the more significant matter to be set forth in connection with this doctrine is indeed political dissent.

Samuel Wylie in his sermon “Two Sons of Oil” (circa 1802), for example, argued that the magistrate was subject to Christ as mediator, and from there argued that the magistrate must be a professing Christian and that the American government itself was immoral and its authority illegitimate. Therefore, no church member should be involved in any activity that would affirm the government’s authority. Oaths of allegiance, participation in civil elections, office holding to which an oath was attached, and so on are prohibited.

There was nothing new in the prohibition of political activity based on the idea that the government was illegitimate. As we have noted, that concept was around from the very beginning of what was to become the Reformed Presbyterian Church.

What was new in what Wylie had said (or at least new relative to the beginning of political dissent in the Societies a century earlier) was that the ground for dissent was now being firmly connected to the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations.

In his paper “From Popery to Principle: Covenanters and the Kingship of Christ,” David McKay suggests that there was a change in Covenanter thought with respect to the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ. He maintains that both Gillespie and Rutherford did not view Christ as mediatorial king over the nations. He makes the same contention about Alexander Shields. Thus, McKay says, the seventeenth century Covenanters had an entirely different view of the doctrine than Reformed Presbyterians held a century or two later. He also notes that the doctrine of the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations eventually became “an established and undisputed principle in the testimony of the various branches of the Reformed Presbyterian Church that regarded themselves as heirs of the Second Reformation in Scotland.”

I am not prepared to say if McKay is right or wrong about whether or not the seventeenth century Covenanters were committed to the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations. That is a rather contentious subject, and one that, frankly, I have concluded is actually irrelevant to the subject at hand. What is important about McKay’s paper is not that it necessarily shows that modern Reformed Presbyterians are at odds with the Covenanters on whether the mediatorial kingship of Christ is over the nations. Rather, it is that it reveals a significant change in the grounds for political dissent. Whereas the ground was adherence to the Covenants in the beginning, the ground for it later was found in the mediatorial kingship of Christ.

Whatever the case may be with regard to the mediatorial kingship doctrine among seventeenth century Covenanters, Shields and Hamilton weren’t arguing about that. The central issue between them was the relevance of the Covenants after the revolution. In fact, it doesn’t appear that there was much discussion about the mediatorial kingship of Christ among Covenanters at all until the debate between the “Cameronians” and the “Seceders” in the 1730s and 1740s. McKay observes this:

“Out of the debate between Covenanters (Cameronians) and Seceders, in ways that are not entirely clear from this distance, comes a more definite commitment on the part of Covenanters to the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nation.” He adds later, “Nevertheless, it does not appear that the doctrine of the kingship of Christ over the nations was thought out with any great theological or exegetical precision in this period- perhaps ironically, in view of the Covenanter’s thoroughness on so many other issues.”

The practice of ecclesiastical separatism and political dissent had been well established going back to 1690. It seems that with the passage of time, it became more difficult for the Societies and subsequently the Reformed Presbyterian Church to justify their separate existence and peculiar ethos. Their practice originally underpinned by the Covenants needed a new foundation, and the mediatorial kingship of Christ over the nations was eventually claimed to be precisely that.

Yes, I am a Calvinist

The following piece was written by Rev. D.Douglas Gebbie

Hi.  My name is Douglas; and I’m a Calvinist.

This is no small admission.  I may just have been stuffed into a pigeon hole from which I might never be exhumed.  I am enthralled by the Psalms of David, yet anyone with the slightest literary pretension thinks me a Philistine.  I don’t believe in human evolution, but to the enlightened I am a theological Neanderthal.  I hold to a religion of grace, still I am condemned as a legalist.

The first two assumptions don’t bother me.  We all know that the writers who have most eloquently put the boot in ‘dour’ and ‘repressive’ Calvinistic Presbyterianism have been able to do so only because of John Knox’s manifesto for mass literacy.  And I am quite happy dragging my knuckles down the ‘Old Paths’.

Now, the third does bother me.  That one hits a nerve like tinfoil on a filling.  How can a Calvinist be a legalist?  Don’t the very things about Calvinism which provoke ridicule, if not revulsion, disprove such an idea?

The Calvinist holds to the doctrine of total depravity.  This means that every aspect of every person’s being has been affected by sin.  Now, the knowledge that everything one does is tainted or flawed cannot be of much encouragement to an aspiring legalist as he works to establish his own perfect righteousness.

The Calvinist holds to the doctrine of unconditional election.  God has chosen the people whom He intends to save; and He has chosen them without regard to their good works.  Whether the legalist is boastful or sycophantic, this must be ultimately devastating.

The Calvinist holds to the doctrine of limited atonement: Christ died for the elect.  This means that Jesus saves specific people by dying in their place, suffering the penalty for their sins.  Why should God send His Son to die the death of the cross if one could out do one’s misdeeds by one’s good deeds?

The Calvinist holds to the doctrines of irresistible grace and the perseverance of the saints.  Because they are powerless to do it for themselves, God sends the Holy Spirit to work within His elect to enable them to believe in Christ; and those who believe will have eternal life because they are being kept by the power of God.  This utter dependency leaves little room for legalistic pride.

Yet, the raw nerve isn’t hit merely by misunderstanding or misrepresentation.  There is a truncated Calvinism which gives credibility to the charge: a Calvinism in which election is too mysterious, effectual calling too subjective, and the Cross too presupposed.  In short, a Calvinism in which grace is taken for granted.

When that happens, only law is left.  But, it is law without its context.  The preamble is dropped from the Decalogue.  Rather than love, duty, or even social conformity, becomes the motivation for keeping Christ’s commandments; and the One who first loved us is given something less in return.

Making Good Use of the Means of Grace

Some time ago I watched a sales instruction video in which the instructor said something that was incredibly simple and yet had profound implications. He said we already know what to do. The problem was that we’re just not doing it.

I have been involved in sales for most of my adult life, and I knew precisely what he was talking about. He was talking about all the things that a good sales representative has to do in order to be successful, and he was right: Most people in sales knew what those things were, but many of them weren’t successful because they just didn’t do them.

I couldn’t help thinking that there was a spiritual application to what he said.

How many times have you been listening to a sermon, or reading a theological book or article, or maybe been in a Sunday School class and the urgency of making good use of the means of grace was communicated to you? If you are like me, you’ve experienced that many, many times. And you’ve also been convicted about how relatively little time you’ve spent in the Word or in prayer.

We knew. We knew the benefits of using the means of grace and we knew the risks of failing to use them. We already knew what we needed to do. We just weren’t doing it.

the-pastor-at-prayerAre we spending time in prayer?

I remember reading about some Puritan of old that said he if he didn’t spend at least three hours in prayer, the day was lost. I’m not suggesting that has to be our practice. I do think, however, that it does illustrate how vital prayer was seen by great men of God in times past. We have ample reasons for why we should pray, and we certainly have plenty of things to pray about. (Phil 4:6, Mark 11:24, 1Thess 5:17, Matt 6:6, 1Tim 2:1-4)

Are we spending time reading the Word of God?

The Scripture informs us of a lot of things, but the Word of God is more than mere information. It also has the power to sustain us in our walk with God. Even when the passage is familiar to us, we will be reminded of the great truth written there and the Spirit will use it to our benefit. (Psalm 119:105, Psalm 119:169, 1Peter 2:2, Eph 6:17, John 17:17)dusty-bible

Are you going through a spiritually dry time? If you answered “no” to the earlier questions, should you really be surprised that your spiritual life is dry? The old Puritan that I spoke of earlier understood both the nature of the world and the nature of the human heart. He understood from experience and observation the impossibility of sustaining spiritual vitality without the diligent use of the means of grace.

We know what we need to do, by the grace of God. It’s time to start doing it. (Luke 11:28)