Yesterday, I noted how the big personality can shift the church in the wrong direction. A closely related phenomenon is that of the minister who thumbs his nose at the church's public standards of doctrine and practice, who decides that he does not like that to which his vows bind him, and that he will consequently ignore them, or at least those bits with which he happens to disagree.   

Confessional Presbyterianism, the church system with which I am most familiar and for which I am most concerned, requires its office bearers to take vows to uphold the system of doctrine as taught in the Westminster Standards, to respect the church courts, and to maintain the peace and unity of the church.   Most confessional Presbyterian denominations also bind their office bearers to uphold certain worship practices, typically outlined in a Directory for Public Worship.   Thus, the minister is committed by solemn vow to maintain both certain doctrines and certain practices.

Of course, these very Standards and Directories themselves make it clear that they are not the ultimate authorities.  To use the technical terminology, they are the normed norm not the norming norm.   The latter is the Bible.  Thus, it is always possible that any individual office bearer or even an entire church may come to believe that the Standards are unbiblical on one or more points.

In this context, there is always an orderly process available for addressing the concerns: typically, the minister goes to the church, in the shape of his presbytery or even the General Assembly, tells his brothers about his change of mind, and allows them to judge whether the change is compatible with continued service in a denomination which holds the Standards as its public standard of doctrine.  The same applies with any directory of worship to which the church requires subscription.  This process is sensitive to the minister's conscience, honours the Standards to which his vows commit him, and, by due process, maintains the peace and unity of the church.

The problem comes when a minister has such concerns and simply acts on them without observing due process.  This has often been how liberals have gained influence in denominations: for example Pastor X decides he does not believe in the Virgin Birth and immediately starts teaching his new view.  In doing so, he gambles on the fact that this  'Come on, if you think you're hard enough' approach will deter challengers on the grounds that most ministers and elders want peace, if not at any price, then certainly at almost any price.    Almost certainly, he couples all this with a powerful line in positive rhetoric: he is acting outwith the laws of the church to be more relevant, to connect with new constituencies, to draw new people in etc. He may also have realized that, if he is charged, he will automatically gain the status of victim and martyr, of a brave hero of conscience, of progress, of evangelism, while his opponents can plausibly be cast as reactionaries, unbalanced, obscurantists, and just downright vindictive bully boys.  

In short, those who try to oppose the nose-thumber are at a double disadvantage: the rhetorical aesthetics are entirely against them from the very start; and the fact that, unlike their opponent, they take their vows seriously and thus follow the rules, means that they will always be at least one step behind.   Combine this with the fact that most ministers rightly do not like to fight, and, ninety-nine times out of a hundred, the nose-thumber is on to a winner. He may be considered contumacious in the courts of the church; but in the courts of public opinion he invariably cuts a sympathetic figure.

Thus, if history is anything to go by, the chances are that this minister will not be challenged, and the church's standards will change, in practice if not in actual statute; and this change will come about, not because of reasoned argument and due process, but because fighting him would be just too nasty and difficult.

The final element of this particular factor in liberalizing is, of course, the long term culture it creates where solemn vows are not taken seriously, where rhetoric that sets church confessional standards in antithesis to scripture becomes the norm, and where the ideas of submission and accountability to the wider church, even when these are inconvenient for the individual, are ridiculed. 

But what goes around just as surely comes around; and that is why it is critical for the orthodox to follow the rules and procedures of their particular church.  Yes, the reformed church should always be reforming, seeking to be more faithful in doctrine and practice to scripture; but that has to be done in a manner that is decent and in order.  Vows are vows; and breaking vows is a disastrous, indecent, and disorderly precedent, whether one is a liberal who does it by denying the Virgin Birth or an evangelical who does it in the name of evangelism and outreach. In a world where, as the old Dutch proverb has it, `Every heretic has his text,' a church culture where vows are breached with impunity is a culture where there is nothing in principle to stop the proliferation of any views, no matter how heterodox, which any office-bearer happens to want to propagate.  

When I was younger, I thought rules and procedures were an irritant, an imposition, an inconvenience.   Now, after years of seeing them ignored and abused, mocked and circumvented, and of observing the uniformly disastrous results of such, I see their correct application and enforcement as a key part of ensuring justice, fair-play and, above all, the maintenance of orthodoxy within the church.  Yes, obviously I know that rules and procedures do not in themselves guarantee the preservation of orthodoxy; but it is just as obvious to me that it is impossible to preserve orthodoxy without them.  Thank God for books of church order; and, to quote the late, great Frankie Howerd,  Nay! Nay! Thrice nay! to ministers who think thumbing their noses at the rules is a way to preserve either orthodoxy or orthopraxy.