Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?
September 28, 2011
A theme which has preoccupied me for over a decade now is that of accountability. It first came to my attention in the late 90s and is something with which I have wrestled ever since. It was ultimately what drove me from being an independent Baptist to being a confessional Presbyterian; and, along the way, it led me to rethink my attitude to parachurch organizations.
I still think parachurch organizations can fulfill a useful purpose. Seminaries are places where theological training can be pursued at the depth necessary for pastoral ministry but not every denomination can have one. Thus, the parachurch seminary, while it has weaknesses in its tendency towards the generic, can still be a good place to study. More nebulous groups, such as the Alliance, can provide a forum for Christians from different traditions to meet and even offer opportunities for co-belligerence on certain key things.
The real weakness of such, of course, is their self-appointed nature. Among my problems with independency were the self-appointed pastors who could rise to wield huge influence but who had never actually been called by anybody and did not appear to be answerable to anyone. They had just "felt called" and then set themselves up in ministry. In the parachurch, this problem is even worse. That is why it is vital that parachurch organizations stay in their place: well below the church in ambition and scope of authority.
When a parachurch group adopts a churchly agenda and becomes more than just a resource for help on, say, improving preaching or sponsoring the occasional conference on key doctrines, the problem of accountability rears its head in an acute form. Thus, if one of the top men starts talking theological nonsense, heterodoxy or even heresy, who holds him to account? Indeed, who determines -- and how do they determine -- whether he is teaching such? Who asks him to repent or apologise? Who decides if the apology is sufficient? Who makes the call on whether the error is so egregious that he needs to be removed from his position entirely? Where is power really vested and what are the processes for applying this power? There is no formal congregation that can do so; there is no presbytery that can do so; there is no general assembly that can do so. So who does it? Is it the commercial sponsors? A self-selected group of peers? Or the people who buy the books and the conference tickets? The answer is unclear; but knowing the answer is surely vital.
I always remember Tony Benn, MP (not a favourite of mine, I must say) saying that, in a democracy, it was important to know who has authority, to whom they are accountable and, when they start to abuse that authority, how the people can get rid of them. Good points all; and, if that is true in secular society, how much more in the area of theology and the church?
I still think parachurch organizations can fulfill a useful purpose. Seminaries are places where theological training can be pursued at the depth necessary for pastoral ministry but not every denomination can have one. Thus, the parachurch seminary, while it has weaknesses in its tendency towards the generic, can still be a good place to study. More nebulous groups, such as the Alliance, can provide a forum for Christians from different traditions to meet and even offer opportunities for co-belligerence on certain key things.
The real weakness of such, of course, is their self-appointed nature. Among my problems with independency were the self-appointed pastors who could rise to wield huge influence but who had never actually been called by anybody and did not appear to be answerable to anyone. They had just "felt called" and then set themselves up in ministry. In the parachurch, this problem is even worse. That is why it is vital that parachurch organizations stay in their place: well below the church in ambition and scope of authority.
When a parachurch group adopts a churchly agenda and becomes more than just a resource for help on, say, improving preaching or sponsoring the occasional conference on key doctrines, the problem of accountability rears its head in an acute form. Thus, if one of the top men starts talking theological nonsense, heterodoxy or even heresy, who holds him to account? Indeed, who determines -- and how do they determine -- whether he is teaching such? Who asks him to repent or apologise? Who decides if the apology is sufficient? Who makes the call on whether the error is so egregious that he needs to be removed from his position entirely? Where is power really vested and what are the processes for applying this power? There is no formal congregation that can do so; there is no presbytery that can do so; there is no general assembly that can do so. So who does it? Is it the commercial sponsors? A self-selected group of peers? Or the people who buy the books and the conference tickets? The answer is unclear; but knowing the answer is surely vital.
I always remember Tony Benn, MP (not a favourite of mine, I must say) saying that, in a democracy, it was important to know who has authority, to whom they are accountable and, when they start to abuse that authority, how the people can get rid of them. Good points all; and, if that is true in secular society, how much more in the area of theology and the church?
