In recent months, schism has become a matter of public debate. It was once an inchoate concern, as evidenced by the first recommendation of the Task Force on Peace, Unity, and Purity that called us to avoid division into separate denominations; it is now the topic of competing published articles.
It is not surprising that there is no resolution to the current debate, for the church was born and nurtured by schism. The early church believed itself a part of Judaism, divorcing itself from Judaism only in the face of persistent rejection by the Jewish community. Western Christianity, already divided from the Orthodox 500 years earlier, was riven by schism from attempts to reform the Roman Church. Though we cherish it, what we Protestants call the Reformation is more accurately described as a protestant schism. And no Protestant tradition has escaped schism, most particularly the Reformed Tradition, probably the most schismatic of them all. We Presbyterians have our own special history of division.
The sheer number of different Presbyterian churches makes it hard to make a case against schism. But I believe persuasive arguments can be made against schism based on our dedication to continuing reform, what history says about schism in the past, and the early church’s realization that citation to Scripture alone is insufficient to justify schism.
Semper Reformanda
Schism is an abandonment of one of our dearest Reformed principles, for its effect is to inhibit reform.
From the beginning, the Reformed Tradition has understood that reform is not an event, but a process. Since all synods and councils may err, we are always faced with the errors we have made, and should never be persuaded that we are free from them. This creates a permanent tension. The intensity of the stress varies from issue to issue and period to period, but it is always present. The various tensions are important, because they are the source of change. In the struggles to address and adjust to the different issues that we face, we move off center, we amend ourselves, we change.
There is a temptation in times of disagreement to declare that there can be no compromise. After all, if God has declared something, who is authorized to accept anything else? Such is the rationale behind schism: The only way we can believe and practice what God wants is to separate ourselves into a group dedicated to that principle. The effect of schism, however, is not reformation, but a preservation of the status quo by both parties. And the result of schism is two different churches that have denied change.
The very adoption of the motto ecclesia reformata, semper reformanda testifies to the hope of our tradition that we will not split up, but will remain together and work it out.
The historical record of schism
Schism does not work to fulfill the hopes of either reformers or those opposing reform.
Frequently, the immediate cause of schism is the institutional response to attempts to reform. Scripture shows us the sometimes-violent response of the Jewish authorities to the claims of early Christians that Jesus was the Messiah. When Martin Luther nailed his theses to the church door, it was not a declaration of schism but an invitation to debate. It became schism when the Church responded to silence him, excommunicating him four years later.
When schism occurs, one of two things results: either a permanent division between the parties, or some kind of later reconciliation. Both demonstrate the failure of schism. If schismatic parties find that they should reunite, it proves that the original issues were not important enough to cause the rift. Where the parties remain separated, time inevitably proves that the result is not better churches, but only churches dedicated to certain distinct principles.
Scripture alone does not justify schism
The arguments for schism today draw heavily from Scripture, but I believe the Bible itself demonstrates that the appeal to Scripture alone is insufficient to justify schism.
The authority of Scripture is something we accept, but we reach different conclusions because of different methods of interpretation, different premises, and different histories. According to Luke in the last chapter of Acts, when Paul met with the Jews in Rome, he was continuing his pattern of first approaching the Jews. He still considered himself within the Jewish tradition and structure. Luke portrays the church as a Jewish sect until that final citation of Isaiah at the end of Acts, when Paul decrees the divorce final, once and for all. I believe this is the intended message of Luke-Acts. Luke was telling Theophilus how the church went its separate way, and what justified that divorce.
What, then, authorized the church to interpret Scriptures in a way not accepted by the very community that created them? The ratification of this interpretive rubric required something palpable, something demonstrable, something observable by all, something to which the church could point as God’s authorization. Luke in Acts believes the Holy Spirit does that, most particularly in the Pentecost manifestation. Here was a public display so unusual and obvious that it demanded explanation. Peter did it on the spot, claiming it was the fulfillment of a prophecy of Joel, and that this manifest display of God’s presence and power proved the interpretation of various passages in Psalms that Jesus, who was crucified and was resurrected, was the expected Messiah. Without this manifestation of power, persuasion was insufficient.
So we see the dominant role the Holy Spirit plays in Acts. One of the functions is to direct and authorize adoption of practices that violated the accepted interpretation of Scripture.
Most important for us today is what happened at the Jerusalem Council in Acts 15. Paul went there to persuade them that it is not necessary that a person be circumcised to be a Christian. The Council listened and debated the matter. Peter cited the manifestation of the Spirit in his visit to Cornelius, and eventually the Council was persuaded. The need for the Holy Spirit to authorize an interpretation of Scripture that varied from the standard is shown in the odd phrasing of the letter sent to the churches permitting practices not allowed by Scripture: For it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to impose on you no further burden than these essentials. … Acts 15:28.
We Presbyterians operate in the model of the Jerusalem Council: We come together to listen to the issues, and discern what the Holy Spirit directs. For those who argue in favor of schism from Scripture, they must bring their interpretation and arguments to a presbytery, so that the Holy Spirit can do its work. Otherwise, their discernment is without substance.
The current debate
John calls us to love one another, and Paul in 1 Corinthians tells us that even the most profound manifestations of the presence of the Spirit do not override that simple call. Some of what I have witnessed or read violate this call with tones of bitterness, accusation, anger, and self-righteousness. We are called to exhibit the Kingdom of Heaven to the world, but when love wanes as it is doing now, our debates and discussions and schisms are only a reflection of the world.
Given the nature of Christianity, where proper faith and practice are so important, it is not surprising that there will be calls for reform. We in the Reformed Tradition expect it. But what is happening in our church today, where some are arguing for schism, violates our core principles, abandons the hope for reform, will fail to bring about true reform if accomplished, and is insufficiently justified according to the earliest experience of the Church.
The effect of schism is stasis, not reform. And in an age where the pace of change is simply stunning, where there is such pain and disorder, we must turn from our fighting to embrace the world. Schism will simply inhibit the effectiveness of our witness to Jesus Christ.
Edward Koster is the stated clerk of the Presbytery of Detroit
