These comments greatly resonate with me, and by that I mean that I observe what you are describing in my very own self. And it’s something I think I can say with integrity that I’ve been earnestly trying to repent of for the last few years. Still, I find myself endlessly vexed on the topic of authority.
Most sin in my life as it relates to submission to authority, I think, is plain to see. It was certainly plain when I was a boy in the home of my parents. It was plain when I defied my school teachers. These are some of the first authorities that a child really encounters in their life, and I was clearly guilty of rebelling against them.
As a young man entering the work force, I certainly learned and modeled what it was to rebel against my employer. Though I was outwardly a fairly good and reliable employee, I hated and resented it when I was given tasks or orders to follow that I thought were stupid. While I’ve never done anything that the world would regard as grossly unethical, I’ve certainly cut corners against my boss’ instructions. I’ve spoken rebelliously both to and about a boss before – perhaps not in the kind of egregious, bitingly disrespectful way that gets a man fired, but certainly with the "rebel’s conviction that he knows better than the man in authority over him," as Tim put it.
My failure to submit to authority in these spheres of life – father, mother, teachers, employers – are plain to me, in all of their aspects. I can own them as my own, free and clear, with no excuse. I understood the sinfulness of them then, and I understand the sinfulness of them now.
But when it comes to the authority of the church and her officers, things don’t seem that clean cut to me.
Growing up, I never had any concept of the authority of the church or its officers. I was not taught this by my parents, nor by my pastors, nor by my private Christian school teachers. I understood that God was the final and supreme authority, but the church itself was never put forward as anything authoritative. If the concept of church discipline – at any level – was ever taught in any of the churches I attended as a boy, I don’t remember it. My parents didn’t model anything in their lifestyle that would signal that the church was regarded as authoritative in their lives. We made it to church on Sunday if we wanted to. We came and went as we pleased. My dad was the church treasurer at one point, and my mom taught Sunday school, but even these activities managed to be done with a sense of aloofness. Church was never something we were a part of and accountable to, it was something we attended and contributed to.
So my parents didn’t teach me anything concerning church authority, but neither did pastors. I am reminded of that thread we had on here about a year ago about how pastors today labor to position themselves as having no authority. So many pastors – even those who are powerful preachers and sound exegetes – have abdicated their role as shepherds in favor of creating a pulpit ministry for Christian consumerism. There has been a great death to authority in the church today, and while I must confess and account for my own iniquity as it relates to this, I can’t say that the blame falls on my generation. This is a systemic sin that we’ve inherited from our fathers.
And honestly, I feel clueless as to how to find the way back.
I appreciate all the appeals that are made to men of the past, such as Calvin. I also understand that there is nothing new under the sun, so there is much to be gleaned from church history, and in the example of our fathers from ages past. But I have a hard time drawing straight line applications from Reformation-era Europe to post-modern America.
For instance, the relationship between the church and state in the Middle Ages and Renaissance periods was extraordinarily different than what we have today. The institution of the church (whether Catholic or Protestant) had a formal and tremendously influential place in civil government. This formal connection between the church and the state meant that if you were a citizen of Geneva, it was the church in Geneva that you would be giving account to. They were your authority. The board was already set for you. This was your church. You didn’t pick them. You were placed under their authority federally.
Contrast that to our day. A man grows up in a town where there are forty different churches nearby. They all confess different things. None of them regard themselves to be subject to one another. The government couldn’t care less which one of them you attend as long as you remain civil. And all of these churches are positioning themselves as a product to be consumed.
Which church does a man join himself to? Or rather, by whose authority will the man end up joining himself to a church? Simply put, his own. The man must decide.
This is where I find it vexing. We affirm the necessity of submitting to authority, but in this generation, the first thing a man must do is choose which authority to submit to… by his own authority. But is submission to authority every really genuine if you’re at liberty to choose your own authority?
I suppose the answer to that has to be yes, since that’s what a wife is typically doing when she chooses to marry a particular husband. Maybe that’s the attitude we need to use when choosing a church. We’re looking for a husband, as it were, and that includes being humbly cognizant of our own weaknesses and immaturity, with the knowledge that whatever husband we join ourselves to is going to be imperfect, and we can only look to the future with faith.
Still, it vexes me. I wasn’t assigned under the authority of my church through federal association. Rather, I chose it. Yes, I took counsel from others, and searched the Scriptures as best as I knew how to evaluate what I ought to look for in a church, but was it not ultimately my own authority which was acted upon when I endeavored to join this particular church and not another? Doesn’t that mean that my very submission to this church is, as it were, an act of my own authority? (I understand that the church received me into membership by their authority, but I’m focusing on my part of it).
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t deny God’s providence in how we end up in one church and not another. On the contrary, I am banking on God’s providence, else I don’t know how to understand the events of my life whatsoever! In all of my vexation, I am positively convinced that the only answer is to lean not on my own understanding; to endeavor in all my ways to follow him, trusting that He is the one who will make my path straight. If Christ has so regarded my helpless estate that he gave himself to purchase me, my only confidence is that he will see to it that he receives me safely to glory as his due, in the end. With what other confidence can we go through life?
Anyway, there’s my quarterly ramble. Thank you all.