ONE
CATHOLICITY AND CONSCIENCE: THE GENERAL ASSEMBLY OF
1837
AND THE FRAGMENTATION OF BRITISH-AMERICAN
PROTESTANTISM
Between 1837 and 1845 most of the
leading denominations of North Atlantic Protestantism were rocked by a series
of church splits. The Church of Scotland lost nearly half of its ministers to
the Free Church Disruption of 1843, as 40% of the church departed in order to
maintain the spiritual independence of the church against state interference.[1] In 1844 and 1845 the Methodist and Baptist churches
in America divided north and south over the question of whether slavery was
sinful. It might appear that these divisions were unrelated, but the American
Presbyterian division of 1837 may cast some light on the tendency toward
fragmentation that existed in nineteenth-century Protestantism, and indeed, in
nineteenth-century culture. The 1830s and 1840s saw the first massive divisions
in four of the seven largest British-American denominations. The exceptions
were the Congregational churches (which had already split into
Unitarian/Trinitarian camps by 1820), the Church of England and the American
Episcopal church (both of which were divided internally by the Tractarian
movement and the Gorham case but did not separate).[2]
For centuries the concept of the
catholicity of the visible church had sufficient symbolic power to hold
churches together in the face of significant disagreements. When heresy
disrupted the unity of the church, this understanding of catholicity provided
for the discipline of heretics, setting the boundaries of orthodoxy for the
whole church.[3]
The Protestant Reformation did not
reject the idea of catholicity. It simply claimed that the Pope was a usurper,
who had arrogated to himself power that did not rightly belong to him. The
Reformers insisted that each regional church should be allowed to establish its
own creed, church order, and liturgy, maintaining fellowship among regional
churches, without requiring organizational unity. The Reformed confessions,
catechisms, church orders, and liturgies of the sixteenth century exhibit
similar structures, patterns and doctrines.[4] When the Dutch church faced a crisis over the
teaching of Jacob Arminius in the early seventeenth century, it called for all
the other Reformed churches to send delegates to the Synod of Dordt. When the
English Long Parliament sought to unite the British Isles, it called for an
assembly of ministers (the Westminster Assembly, 1642-48) to unify the churches
in doctrine, government, worship and discipline. The churches of Ireland,
Scotland and England would remain separate in structure, but would have common
standards.[5]
At least through the seventeenth
century, the principle of catholicity remained theoretically intact. The ideal
was to have one orthodox church in any given region. But cracks were growing in
the practice of catholicity. The Lutherans and the Reformed were only partly in
fellowship with each other–and in many places in Germany they co-existed in the
same area. In England a group of Independents had split off from the Church of
England, and while most Puritans remained within the Anglican Church, there was
a growing divide between Episcopalians and Presbyterians. The claims of
conscience had been relatively easy to press when the opponent was Rome–one
could simply identify Rome as the Babylon of Revelation and call for all true
believers to “Come out of her, my people, lest you share in her sins!” But it
became more difficult when the opponent was the Church of England–whose
Thirty-Nine Articles were reformed, and whose liturgy was formally similar to
those of the continental Reformed churches. But the Church of England had
retained a few “Popish ceremonies,” and there were some in the Anglican church
who plainly preferred certain Roman practices over those of the Reformed. While
the vast majority of English Puritans were faithful Anglicans, desirous merely
of reforming the church, not a few moved in a more radical direction. The
Congregationalists and Independents emphasized the purity of the local
congregation and rejected the concept of the regional church. Baptists went a
step further and rejected infant baptism as a relic of Romanism. From there it
was only another step to the Quakers who rejected ministers and sacraments
entirely–or to the Seekers who felt that the church had been entirely destroyed
and waited for God to send new apostles to reorganize the church.
It was in this context that the
Westminster Assembly declared in chapter 25 of its Confession that “The visible
church, which is also catholic or universal under the gospel (not confined to
one nation, as before under the law), consists of all those throughout the
world that profess the true religion; and of their children: and is the kingdom
of the Lord Jesus Christ, the house and family of God, out of which there is no
ordinary possibility of salvation.” In the fourth section they stated that
“This catholic church hath been sometimes more, sometimes less visible. And
particular churches, which are members thereof, are more or less pure,
according as the doctrine of the gospel is taught and embraced, ordinances
administered, and public worship performed more or less purely in them.” The
phrase “particular churches” commonly referred to the national or regional
churches such as the Church of Scotland, or the Church of Saxony.
1.
The New “Catholicity”
It was in America that this older
understanding of catholicity utterly disintegrated. While Europe was trying to
maintain catholicity through established churches that “tolerated” dissent,
Americans faced a new challenge. Most of the early settlers of the New World
were in favor of church establishment–but only if they were the
established church! New England Congregationalists quickly established the
Congregational church in New England, while Anglicans were established in the
South, and after the Dutch Reformed Church’s brief establishment in New
Amsterdam, the Anglican Church also took over New York.
The one region where establishments
did not take root in the colonial era were the middle colonies. Pennsylvania
and New Jersey both had large Quaker populations (which rejected establishments
altogether) while Maryland sought toleration for Roman Catholics, which under
British rule meant toleration for all dissenters. It was particularly in
Pennsylvania where America’s religious future was anticipated. In Pennsylvania
all of the old established churches of Europe met: the German Reformed from the
Church of the Palatine, Lutherans from the Church of Saxony, Presbyterians from
the Church of Scotland, Anglicans from the Church of England, together with the
dominant Quakers, a few Welsh Baptists and a scattering of Mennonites.
There was some talk of merger. The
Dutch and German Reformed nearly merged with the Scottish Presbyterians. But
the Lutherans and Anglicans were not interested in this. Radicals, such as the
Baptists, Mennonites and Quakers, argued that denominational pluralism was
good–and as time went on, the old established churches began to agree. Each
denomination tended to attract “its own” people–the Presbyterians were
overwhelmingly Scots-Irish, the Lutherans were German and Scandinavian, the
Anglicans and Baptists were generally English (and Welsh). The old idea of
catholicity–one church per region–had broken down.
But American Protestants were not
willing to surrender the idea of catholicity.[6] When Roman Catholics accused them of being divided
and divisive, Protestants replied that they were still united in doctrine and
fellowship. After all, in the early Republic there was a general Reformed
consensus in American Protestantism. The Episcopalians, Congregationalists,
Baptists–and even Methodists–were confessionally similar to the
Presbyterians–the most significant differences were in polity.[7] Such newspapers as the True Catholic (edited
by Presbyterians, Baptists, and Methodists in the 1840s) emphasized the
consensus among evangelical Protestants against both the high church
exclusivists (Roman and Anglo-Catholics) as well as the schismatics on the
radical wing–both denying the catholicity of the church.
By the 1840s the alignment of
American Protestants had changed. The Baptists were no longer on the
fringe–they had come into the mainline, as the Disciples of Christ and a whole
array of smaller radical groups had emerged (Mormons, Millerites,
Swedenborgians, etc). The mainstream of American Protestantism attempted to
maintain a sort of catholicity that was not organizational, but based upon a
general harmony of doctrine and piety–especially piety.
The Old School vision of catholicity
included a sense of common conscience (or confession) on the denominational
level, insisting that each denomination should maintain high confessional
standards, but allowed for liberty of conscience by recognizing other
denominations as fellow churches with whom they maintained fellowship.
Presbyterians sought to remain in fellowship with Methodists, Baptists,
Episcopalians, and Congregationalists (as well as the German and Dutch
Reformed). Since their official standards of doctrine were generally harmonious–the
Thirty Nine Articles for Methodists and Episcopalians, and various modified
versions of the Westminster Confession for Congregationalists and most
Baptists–Presbyterians sought to maintain fellowship with them.
But problems developed. Methodist
preachers were famous for preaching anti-Calvinist sermons, and often accused
Presbyterians of all sorts of awful teachings. Some of their most popular hymns
were overtly anti-Calvinistic, mocking the doctrine of predestination.[8] How could Presbyterians maintain fellowship with a
sister church that mocked them? Many Baptists refused to accept transfers from
Presbyterian churches without rebaptizing people. How can two churches remain
in fellowship without a common recognition of each other’s sacraments? Then the
Anglo-Catholic movement hit the Episcopal church, and some Episcopalians (who
had generally been closest to the Presbyterians in the early 19th century)
started insisting that Presbyterian ministers were not validly ordained because
they had not been ordained by a bishop.
2.
The New “Conscience”
If the older understanding of
catholicity maintained a tenuous existence in the early nineteenth century
(experiencing gradual erosions from the middle of the seventeenth century), the
concept of conscience had been undergoing a revolution of its own. “Conscience”
referred to an understanding of the right of the individual to decide what he
or she believes on any given subject. The nineteenth century saw conscience
gradually become a more central symbol than catholicity in defining religion
and morals, resulting in the inward and outward fragmentation of Anglo-American
Protestantism.
The older understanding of
catholicity did not deny the rights of conscience, so much as it gave a
corporate context for the exercise of conscience. The Reformers affirmed the
right of private judgment (insisting that human laws could not bind the
conscience), but also insisted that human laws could indeed bind practice. The Thirty-Nine
Articles of the Church of England, following a traditional medieval
distinction, both affirmed and limited the rights of conscience:
Whosoever, through his
private judgment, willingly and purposely, doth openly break the Traditions and
Ceremonies of the Church, which be not repugnant to the Word of God, and be
ordained and approved by common authority, ought to be rebuked openly, (that
others may fear to do the like,) as he that offendeth against the common order
of the Church, and hurteth the authority of the Magistrate, and woundeth the
consciences of the weak brethren. (Article 34)
The
Westminster Confession of Faith expanded the role of conscience, but
retained clear boundaries for conscience as well:
God alone is Lord of the
conscience, and hath left it free from the doctrines and commandments of men,
which are, in anything, contrary to his Word; or beside it, if matters of
faith, or worship. So that, to believe such doctrines, or to obey such
commands, out of conscience, is to betray true liberty of conscience: and the
requiring of an implicit faith, and an absolute and blind obedience, is to
destroy liberty of conscience, and reason also. (20.2)
And because the powers which
God hath ordained, and the liberty which Christ hath purchased, are not
intended by God to destroy, but mutually to uphold and preserve one another,
they who, upon pretense of Christian liberty, shall oppose any lawful power, or
the lawful exercise of it, whether it be civil or ecclesiastical, resist the
ordinance of God. And, for their publishing of such opinions, or maintaining of
such practices, as are contrary to the light of nature, or to the known
principles of Christianity (whether concerning faith, worship, or
conversation), or to the power of godliness; or, such erroneous opinions or
practices, as either in their own nature, or in the manner of publishing or
maintaining them, are destructive to the external peace and order which Christ
hath established in the church, they may lawfully be called to account, and
proceeded against, by the censures of the church. and by the power of the civil
magistrate. (20.4)
Both
the Thirty-Nine Articles and the Westminster Confession
insist that while human laws (whether of the church or the state) do not bind
the conscience, they do bind practice.[9] In other words, they were trying to show people how
to maintain a clear conscience within the context of a Reformed catholicity.
As liberty of conscience became more
prominent, most still tried to retain a modified version of catholicity. In the
midst of division and fragmentation, nineteenth-century evangelicals frequently
affirmed the catholicity of the visible church. But the definitions had
changed. Now catholicity usually meant either 1) a lowest common denominator view
of the church which would allow the broadest toleration of interpretation
within a single denomination, or 2) fellowship across denominational lines
while enforcing strict orthodoxy within the denomination. In either case,
conscience trumped catholicity, and catholicity was redefined in terms of the
assumption that the rights of conscience were paramount.
Some might suggest that this model
fails to take into account the fact that the Americans had experienced
denominationalism from the seventeenth century. But this is only true in
places. After all, the several denominations that existed in America were
simply transplants from Europe. Until the rise of the Disciples of Christ in
the opening decades of the nineteenth century, no major denomination had originated
in the new world.[10] The Congregational establishment in New England
retained the older concept of one church per region, and the very language of
“dissenter” and “toleration” indicates that these separations were viewed as
improper and temporary. Baptist Rhode Island and Quaker Pennsylvania were the
two colonies to allow full liberty of conscience, which fits with the Baptist
and Quaker rejection of the concept of catholicity in the seventeenth century.[11] But the dominant paradigm remained the older vision
of the catholicity of the visible church.
It was only in 1789 that
Presbyterians revised their Confession of Faith[12] to become the first Christian confession to make
denominational pluralism an article of faith:
Civil magistrates may not. .
. in the least, interfere in matters of faith. Yet, as nursing fathers, it is the
duty of civil magistrates to protect the church of our common Lord, without
giving the preference to any denomination of Christians above the rest. . . .
And, as Jesus Christ hath appointed a regular government and discipline in his
church, no law of any commonwealth should interfere with, let, or hinder, the
due exercise thereof, among the voluntary members of any denomination of
Christians, according to their own profession and belief. It is the duty of
civil magistrates to protect the person and good name of all their people, in
such an effectual manner as that no person be suffered, either upon pretense of
religion or of infidelity, to offer any indignity, violence, abuse, or injury
to any other person whatsoever: and to take order, that all religious and
ecclesiastical assemblies be held without molestation or disturbance. (23.3)
This
new section, added in 1789, had the effect of altering the meaning of the
Confession’s statement on the catholicity of the visible church (25.2-5),
rendering the older concept of one church per region untenable. Prior to this
revision, the magistrate was to suppress blasphemy and heresy, and to ensure
that the worship of God was conducted in accordance with the Word of God
(original Westminster Confession 23.3). But in 1789 American
Presbyterians not only eliminated this section of the Confession, but also
removed the clause in their Larger Catechism which condemned “tolerating a
false religion” (question 109), thereby endorsing the principle of religious
liberty.[13]
The changes in the wording of their
confession paralleled developments in the discussion of conscience among moral
philosophers. Samuel J. Cassells, principal of Chatham Academy in Georgia,
explained that conscience was variously referred to as “the moral principle” or
a faculty or power of the soul “by which it perceives the difference between
right and wrong, approving the one and condemning the other.”[14] While objecting to the utilitarianism of Paley and
Bentham, Cassells acknowledged that the conscience had become the driving force
of modern moral philosophy. Most Old School Presbyterians still hoped to form
the conscience according to a communal norm–as exemplified by their regular
endorsement of the shorter catechism as a tool in training children.[15]
Conscience’s ability to trump
catholicity can be seen in the Disruption of the Free Church, where the
spiritual independence of the church was considered a principle too sacred to
compromise,[16] as well as in the Baptist and Methodist schisms in
the 1840s over slavery. While southerners eschewed the personal liberty laws of
the north in the 1850s, Eugene Genovese has pointed out that they concurred
with the “higher law” doctrine in principle–they admitted that if it was a
matter of conscience, then the individual had no choice but to disobey the
unacceptable law.[17]
While this distinction between
catholicity and conscience is an explicitly theological one, the implications
for politics and culture are significant. As had been the case for millennia,
religious thought and political thought were intertwined. The shift from catholicity
to conscience signaled a change in the symbolic world paralleled by the trends
in political thought toward democratization, and in economics toward the
individualism of the market. Indeed, while he does not refer to “catholicity”
per se, Nathan Hatch’s whole argument in The Democratization of American
Evangelicalism rests upon this movement from catholicity to conscience.[18] Further, the idea of catholicity easily transferred
into political discourse, and not surprisingly many Americans found it easier
to discuss the catholicity in nationalistic terms.[19]
3.
Catholicity, Conscience, and the Division of 1837
Old School Presbyterians lived in
this new symbolic world. But more than most other mainline denominations, they
retained a significant attachment to the older concept of catholicity. In an
increasingly fragmented religious world, they clung to the older ideal in the
hope that they could stave off the disintegration of their own tradition. But
ironically, their conscientious stand for catholicity entailed the division of
their church.
The actions and statements of Old School Presbyterians in
the division of 1837 need to be read in the context of the sweeping changes
occurring in the symbolic world of antebellum America. What did it mean to be
one denomination among others? As American culture was becoming increasingly
democratized and populist, did that mean that the churches would invariably
follow? Or did their theological tradition provide a middle way that they could
steer between the Scylla of High Church Episcopalianism and the Charybdis of
Baptist populism.[20]
A. Catholicity and the Plan of Union
In 1801, the General Assembly of the
Presbyterian Church in America and the General Association of the State of
Connecticut entered into a “Plan of Union” in order “to promote union and
harmony in those new settlements which are composed of inhabitants from these
bodies.”[21] Settlers from the Congregational church of Connecticut
and the Presbyterian church would work together in planting churches, and not
allow minor differences in polity to result in the establishment of two
different denominations in the same region. Since both bodies agreed in
doctrine–except in ecclesiology–the plan arranged for Congregational ministers
to pastor Presbyterian churches, and vice versa. Indeed, the plan succeeded
beyond the expectations of its framers when in 1808 the Congregational Middle
Association accepted an invitation from the Presbyterian Synod of Albany to
become a presbytery within its bounds. Throughout the state of New York and the
Western Reserve of Ohio, Congregationalists flocked to the Presbyterian
churches until by the 1820s there were hardly any separate Congregational churches
left west of New England. At least within the British Reformed world,
catholicity had triumphed.
Or had it? Part of the older
doctrine of catholicity included the idea that even rules of human invention
should be followed (though they could not bind the conscience). And if they
could not be followed, they should be changed in an orderly fashion–or else the
dissenter should quietly submit. Rumors began to spread that the
“presbygational” churches of New York and eastern Ohio were violating terms of the
Presbyterian constitution. Even worse, doctrinal innovations from Yale College,
in New Haven, Connecticut, regarding the nature of the atonement, original sin,
and human ability seemed to find echoes in those portions of the church that
stemmed from the Plan of Union. To top it off, Charles Finney’s radical
revivalism took these new doctrines and gave them a most unpleasant form in its
“new measures” and perfectionist tendencies.[22]
Simultaneously, questions began to
be raised regarding the voluntary associations established to promote joint
missions and education between the Congregationalists and the Presbyterians
(including some Dutch Reformed and Associate Reformed churches). The American
Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (1810), the American Education
Society (1815), and the American Home Missionary Society (1826) had all been
formed as joint endeavors among Reformed Christians in order to conduct the
work of missions and ministerial training in a co-operative fashion. Their
supporters claimed that these organizations were simply “the church in her
organized and social capacity,” and pointed to their immense success in spreading
Presbyterianism throughout the West.[23] Catholicity was being defined as individual
cooperation between Christians.[24]
But as New York and New England
tended to support the “American” boards, the Presbyterian church also
established agencies of the General Assembly in order to plant churches and
oversee ministerial training. The General Assembly organized boards of Domestic
Missions (1816–reorganized with greater powers in 1827) and Education
(1819–likewise reorganized in 1829) in order to supervise missions and the
education of ministers. Foreign missions, however, continued as a joint
endeavor through the ABCFM, although the Synod of Pittsburgh (one of the
strongest bastions of Scottish Presbyterianism in the United States) started
the Western Foreign Missions Society in 1831, which quickly drew support from
Old School synods in the south and west.
New School advocates claimed that
the catholicity of the visible church was replaced by the Old School with a
narrow sectarianism that focused on the institutional church. Indeed, this was
the question: does the catholicity of the visible church simply mean unity among
individual Christians in missionary and reform efforts across denominational
boundaries (the New School vision)? Or does it mean cordial relations among
denominations while each pursues its own missionary efforts in different
regions (the Old School vision)?[25]
Of course, to ask the question in
this fashion is to reveal the fact that the older concept of the catholicity of
the visible church was already dead. It was impossible for antebellum
Presbyterians to affirm the older vision of the church, because they no longer
believed in that older idea that each region should have only one church. The
idea of “catholicity” had been redefined: the New School grounded the concept
of catholicity in the invisible church (harmony between individual Christians),
while the Old School emphasized the visible church (harmony between
denominations).
B. Orthodoxy and Catholicity
The Plan of Union was intended as a
means of furthering orthodoxy. But as New England’s orthodoxy was called into
question, the Plan of Union became increasingly problematic. The center of the
controversy swirled around the question of human ability. Did fallen, sinful
human beings have the natural ability to do what God commanded or not? Would God
condemn human beings for failing to do something that they could not do apart
from his grace? The “New Divinity” rising in New England suggested
modifications to traditional Calvinist language to say that while human beings
had the natural ability to obey God, they lacked the moral ability on account
of sin. This raised subsequent discussions regarding original sin, immediate
versus mediate imputation of sin and righteousness, and a host of related
issues.[26] For orthodox Calvinists, the New Englanders sounded
as though they were moving closer and closer to the dreaded heresy of
Pelagianism.[27]
Concern regarding the orthodoxy of
New England was voiced as early as 1798 when the Presbyterian General Assembly
“reprimanded Hezekiah Balch” of Tennessee “for espousing the views of Samuel
Hopkins.”[28] In 1817 the pastoral letter of the Synod of
Philadelphia warned against the “heresy” of Hopkinsianism. The General
Assembly, however, warned the Synod that such expressions were “offensive to
other denominations” (especially Congregationalists), and might “introduce a
spirit of jealousy and suspicion against ministers in good standing.”[29] Throughout the 1820s the concern over New England
theology grew, and from 1829-1837, the Princeton Review remonstrated
with its New England neighbors against their novel views.[30]
If the New Divinity had remained a
New England and New York phenomenon, most Presbyterians would have left it
alone. But when the New School majority at the 1831 General Assembly suggested
bringing the Presbyterian Boards of Education and Missions under the
interdenominational AES and AHMS, a number of Philadelphia ministers and elders
wrote a circular letter to like-minded Presbyterians urging the claims of immediate
action. The danger, in their minds, was that the institutions of the church
would be “perverted from the intention of their orthodox founders,” and that
the doctrines of the church’s confession would be overrun.[31] If the American Home Mission Society began sending
out heretics, the Presbyterian Church could not stop them. The AHMS was
providing a significant amount of funding for the Plan of Union synods in New
York and the Western Reserve of Ohio–as well as those further down the Ohio
River in Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee and Illinois. If New England
trained and funded ministers took over the west, then what would become of the
Presbyterian Church?
And to make matters worse, the Plan
of Union synods were already making it clear that they had no intention of
following Presbyterian church order. Hundreds of “presbygational churches”
followed congregational practices while retaining their membership in the
Presbyterian church. In such churches lay committees took over the functions of
ruling elders, allowing men who had never agreed to Presbyterian doctrine and
church order to govern Presbyterian churches. In 1833 the General Assembly
admonished the Western Reserve Synod for declaring that ruling elders were not
essential to the existence of the Presbyterian Church.[32]
One of the first projects of the Old
School was to establish periodicals that would defend traditional orthodoxy
against the tide of New England theology and practice.
Old School Periodicals
Founded Name Editor Seminary Birthplace
Weekly
1829 Pittsburgh Christian Herald Rev. Thomas D. Baird M Waddell 1812 Ireland
1831 The Standard (Cincinnati) Rev. John Burtt PTS 1823 Scotland
1831 Presbyterian (Philadelphia) Rev. William M. Engles Covenanter 1818 PA
1835 So. Christian Herald (Cheraw, SC) Rev. R. S. Gladney private 1830s SC
Monthly
1835 Baltimore Lit & Religious Magazine Rev. R. J. Breckinridge PTS 1832 KY
1835 Western Protestant (Bardstown, KY) Rev. Nathan L. Rice PTS 1832 KY
New School Periodicals
Weekly
Cincinnati Journal
Ohio Observer (Western Reserve)
New York Evangelist
1825 Philadelphian Rev. Ezra Styles Ely
Neutral Periodicals
Weekly
1822 Southern Religious Telegraph (VA) Rev. Amasa Converse PTS 1826
1823 New York Observer Sidney E. Morse
1827 Charleston Observer (SC) Rev. Benj. Gildersleeve PTS 1818 CT
1835 American Pbn (Nashville) Rev. John T. Edgar PTS 1816 DE
Quarterly
1829 Biblical Repertory & Princeton
Review Rev. Charles Hodge PTS
1819 PA
The
New School and the moderates originally controlled most of the Presbyterian
press. The Cincinnati Journal, the Ohio Observer and the Philadelphian,
were overtly New School, while the New York Observer and the Southern
Religious Telegraph professed to be neutral, but had plain New School
sympathies. The Princeton Review was notoriously moderate in its tone,
as Joshua L. Wilson of Cincinnati said derisively of Samuel Miller and the
Princeton professors: “They are broken reeds which will pierce the hand that
rests on them for support.”[33] So in 1831 Old School papers were started in
Cincinnati and Philadelphia with the urging of Joshua L. Wilson and Ashbel
Green, respectively. The Southern Christian Herald followed in the South
Carolina backcountry in 1835, due to perceptions that the New England-born
Benjamin Gildersleeve was too moderate in his Charleston Observer.[34] These three papers were fiercely partisan in their
Old School rhetoric. In contrast the American Presbyterian of
Nashville, Tennessee was also started in 1835, but on a more irenic platform.
Its editor, John T. Edgar, was firmly committed to Presbyterian orthodoxy, but
hoped to accomplish Old School goals through more moderate means.[35]
Under its founding editor, John
Burtt, the Presbyterian quickly established itself as the leading voice
of the Old School. By March of 1832, it had started using the labels “Old
School” and “New School” to describe the two groups in the church: “The Old
School feel a cordial and firm attachment to the Confession of Faith and
Catechisms of the Church, as exhibiting a correct and lucid view of the
doctrines of the Scriptures,” and also defended Presbyterian government.
“Whereas the New School think lightly, and sometimes speak lightly, of our
Standards, and manifest a disposition to loose themselves from their obligation
to teach and preach according to them.”[36]
For just over a year (from November
28, 1832 to January 2, 1834) the paper came under the editorial control of
James W. Alexander, son of Archibald Alexander of Princeton Seminary. During
his tenure the paper moved in a somewhat more moderate direction, publishing
Samuel Miller’s “Letters to Presbyterians, on the Present Crisis in the
Presbyterian Church in the United States,” in an attempt to use the history of
the Presbyterian church as an argument for peace and union, not division.[37]
Upon Alexander’s departure, the Rev.
William M. Engles embarked on his 33 year tenure as editor of the Old School’s
flagship newspaper. Pronouncedly Old School in his views, he nonetheless
rejected the division of the church as a goal. In reply to “A Layman of the New
School” who suggested amicable division in 1835, Engles replied: “Our aim has
been its reform, and return to the well established principles of
Presbyterianism. If division should result, the fault will not rest with those,
who have uniformly adhered to Presbyterian doctrine and government.”
Recognizing that he might well end up in the minority, he concluded that “If we
shall fail in our attempt, and as a reward be forcibly ejected, we trust we
have so far counted the cost as to take ‘the spoiling of our goods joyfully,’
for Christ’s sake.”[38]
But Engles was confident that if the
whole church could only hear what the radical New Schoolers were saying, they
would rally behind the Old School banner. Therefore he often published the most
extreme articles from the New School papers, such as a an article in the Ohio
Observer, written by a New School Presbyterian from the Western Reserve
Synod, which argued that the Presbyterian church should completely alter its
confession. “The symbols of the Presbyterian Church have in effect been changed
by the license which is now allowed in explaining their meaning. . . . .But
would it not be better that the Church should alter and expunge, until they
have formed a creed in which all the followers of the Lord Jesus can unite.”
While disagreeing with that desire, Engles could not but endorse the next
sentence–which made his point better than he could say it himself: “There is
danger moreover that those who are in the habit of straining and torturing
language for the sake of expressing different sentiments by the same formula,
will do the same with the Bible, and make it a nose of wax to be moulded into
any shape which will suit the interpreter.”[39]
But while the Old School sought to
convince the moderates of the immediate dangers, they could not allow what they
considered grave errors to continue unchecked. Since Old School Presbyterians
were convinced that the New England doctrines departed significantly from the
church’s Confession, they charged some of the New School leaders with heresy in
the church courts. There was no attempt to go after every “heretic.” Instead
Old School Presbyterians targeted the leaders. The idea was that those who were
not influential were not seen as a threat. Here we see an assumption of the
older idea of catholicity and conscience: if the church draws a clear boundary
in the case of an influential heretic, those who may sympathize with his views
will feel constrained to bring their practice into line with the common
conscience of the church. They saw no need to prosecute every one with
erroneous doctrine. The issue was the general direction of the church–isolated
exceptions were not a problem so long as they did not stir up controversy.
Hence the targets of heresy charges were invariably either professors or
pastors who published their views.[40]
And even though the trials usually
ended in acquittal, not all of the Old School was discouraged. The New School
was being forced to think carefully about how it stated Christian doctrine. An
article in R. J. Breckinridge’s Baltimore Literary and Religious Magazine
hoped that the 1836 General Assembly would sustain the Synod of Philadelphia in
its condemnation of Barnes, but did not insist that Barnes himself be censured,
so long as the truth was clearly vindicated. “If the Assembly clearly and
firmly denounces error, let us not care too much for personal results. If Mr.
Barnes is content to escape; there is no very great importance in
preventing it. It may be on the whole, the best thing that could happen--that
error should become rediculous [sic], instead of being seriously punished.”[41] Even after the Assembly cleared Barnes, Charles Hodge
commented that the New School seemed more and more eager to prove their
orthodoxy: “We think there is truth as well as humour in the remark attributed
to good old Dr. Wilson of Cincinnati, that ‘if we have a few more prosecutions,
the new-school men will become more orthodox than the strictest of us.’”[42]
Nonetheless, the failure of the
General Assembly to convict New School men of heresy frustrated the leaders of
the Old School. They read the doctrines coming out of New England, and knew
that these doctrines were heresy, but it was difficult to find an unequivocal
statement of those views in the Presbyterian Church–and when they thought that
Barnes or Beecher had crossed the line, the alleged heretic quickly disavowed
any heretical intention and nimbly hopped back into the orthodox camp.
Meanwhile, the practical effects of those doctrinal positions were gaining
ground. The AMHS was still sending hundreds of ministers into the Presbyterian
synods in the west, and the mixed presbygationalism of western New York and
eastern Ohio suggested that if the orthodox were not careful, the whole
Presbyterian Church could be overwhelmed by the New School. So far, even when
the New School had a majority, they had politely voted Old School men to fill
vacancies in the General Assembly’s Boards–but if they took control of the
Board of Domestic Missions, they could effectively make it an auxiliary to the
AHMS. And what of the seminaries at Princeton and Allegheny? If New School men
controlled the home missions and ministerial training of the church, then it
was only a matter of time, they feared, before the historic Presbyterian
tradition would be swept away.
The third agent of Old School reform
consisted of a joint declaration circulated throughout the churches. In 1834 a
group of Old School ministers and elders, led by Robert J. Breckinridge, drew
up the Act and Testimony, a declaration of principle that called the
Presbyterian Church to renounce the encroaching errors of the New School and
return to historic Presbyterian doctrine and practice. The document was
published by William M. Engles, the editor of the Presbyterian, in early
1835, with the signatures of 359 ministers and 1,704 ruling elders, and the
imprimatur of the synods of Philadelphia, Mississippi & South Alabama,
South Carolina, Pittsburgh, and Kentucky, along with the presbyteries of Newton
(NJ), Madison (IN), Indianapolis (IN), Oxford (OH), Bedford (NY), Lancaster
(OH), Miami (OH), Concord (NC), Richland (OH), and Kaskaskia (IL)–along with
several presbyteries within the bounds of the aforementioned synods. Some have
argued that southern support for the Old School was late in coming, and that it
was only the issue of slavery that swung them into the Old School camp.[43] This support for the narrowly doctrinal “Act and
Testimony” demonstrates that even by 1834–before the main slavery agitation of
1835-1836–the Old School had broad support throughout the South.
While Philadelphia and Pittsburgh were the main repositories of Old
School strength, the synods of Cincinnati, Indiana, Kentucky, North Carolina
and Mississippi & Southern Alabama all had between 23-31% of their
ministers sign the “Act and Testimony.”[44] Nonetheless, while some southern synods quickly
signed on to the “Act and Testimony,” indicating their support for the Old
School’s doctrinal stance, others were reluctant to support radical measures
which might divide the church.[45]
An even more important question for
the Old School was not whether they could rely upon the South, but such
borderline synods as New York, Albany, New Jersey, and Virginia. Princeton’s
moderate position carried great weight in all these regions, since Virginia’s ear
was turned to Archibald Alexander, and the northeastern synods were the largest
financial supporters of Princeton. If they could convince Princeton and the
upper South of the need for immediate action, the Old School could gain the
necessary majority.[46]
The “Act and Testimony” insisted
that since the General Assembly had refused to testify against the errors of
the New School, the only remaining appeal was to Christ and to the ministers,
elders and members of the church, in an attempt to convince the moderates to
act. By adopting the “Act and Testimony” the signatories pledged themselves to
“endeavour to exclude from her [the church’s] communion those who disturb her
peace, corrupt her testimony, and subvert her established forms.”[47] This appeal from the Assembly to the whole church was
an exercise in opposites: they were conscience-bound to try to exclude the New
School, in order to further an Old School style of catholicity.
The authors of the “Act and
Testimony” claimed that the New School sought to interpret “the doctrines of
our standards in a sense different from the general sense of the Church for
years past.” The Old School insisted that this was dishonest, and averred that
“they who adopt our standards, are bound by candour and the simplest integrity,
to hold them in their obvious, accepted sense.”[48] The Old School did not appeal to a supposed “original
intent” of the Confession, but to the mind of the church–the “general sense of
the Church for years past.” Many New England trained ministers seemed to be
saying that they agreed with the Confession, but then taught things that to the
Scottish-minded Old School sounded like a direct contradiction of what the
church had understood the Confession to say.[49]
Breckinridge was concerned to
accurately depict the New England errors (especially since the General Assembly
of 1834 had refused to condemn the list of errors presented by the Rev. Samuel
C. Jennings of the Presbytery of Ohio–pastor of the Sharon and Mt. Pisgah churches
near Pittsburgh), so he went to Princeton to confer with Charles Hodge,
professor of Oriental and Biblical Literature at Princeton Seminary, and one of
the leaders of the moderate party. Breckinridge hoped to persuade Hodge to sign
the Act and Testimony, or at least help draw up the doctrinal errors
that the General Assembly should condemn. Hodge believed that the Act and
Testimony was the wrong approach, but agreed to help rewrite the
specifications of error in order to reduce the misrepresentation which he
believed had hampered the Old School cause. The resulting specification of
errors consisted of a simple statement of seven errors:
1. “That we have no more to
do with the first sin of Adam than with the sins of any other parent.”
2. “That there is no such
thing as original sin: that infants come into the world as perfectly free from
corruption of nature as Adam was when he was created: that by original sin
nothing more is meant than the fact that all the posterity of Adam, though born
entirely free from moral defilement, will always begin to sin when they begin
to exercise moral agency, and that this fact is some how connected with the
fall of Adam.”
3. “That the doctrine of
imputed sin and imputed righteousness is a novelty, and is nonsense.”
4. “That the impenitent
sinner is by nature, and independently of the aid of the Holy Spirit in full
possession of all the powers necessary to a compliance with the commands of
God: and that if he laboured under any kind of inability, natural or moral,
which he could not remove himself, he would be excusable for not complying with
God’s will.”
5. “That man’s regeneration
is his own act; that it consists merely in the change of our governing purpose,
which change we must ourselves produce.”
6. “That God cannot exert
such an influence on the minds of men as shall make it certain that they will
choose and act in a particular manner without destroying their moral agency;
and that, in a moral system, God could not prevent the existence of sin, or the
present amount of sin, however much he might desire it.”
7. “That Christ’s sufferings
were not truly and properly vicarious.”[50]
This
list of errors quite closely parallels the battles that Princeton Seminary was
fighting against the New England theology, and expresses the Princetonian
perception of Nathaniel William Taylor and Charles Finney. It is not at all
clear, however, that any Presbyterian had yet fully embraced these views.
Barnes and Beecher had an affinity for some of these, but usually stopped short
of outright affirmation of these tenets. The professors at Princeton, Archibald
Alexander, Samuel Miller, and Charles Hodge, agreed with these specifications
of errors, but refused to sign the Act and Testimony in 1835 because
they did not think that the problems in the church would be best solved by
division.
The Old School, however, was getting
tired of the New School’s propensity for dancing on the edge, and believed that
their “unguarded” statements revealed their true theology. The signers of the
“Act and Testimony” were convinced that these doctrinal dalliances were
agitating and dividing the church. Both discipline and church order were
affected. “Mutual confidence is weakened; respect for the supreme judicatory of
our church is impaired. . . [and] the ordinary course of discipline, arrested
by compromises, in which the truth is always loser, and perverted by organized
combinations [by which they especially meant the American Education Society and
the American Home Missions Society], to personal, selfish and party ends,
ceases altogether, and leaves every one to do what seems good in his own eyes.”[51] The effect upon church order was no less serious.
While agreeing that the details of the constitution of the church were
second-order matters, Breckinridge and his fellows argued that
not only for its own sake, do
we love the constitution of our Church, as a model of all free institutions,
and as a clear and noble exhibition of the soundest principles of civil and
religious liberty; not only do we venerate its peculiarities, because they
exhibit the rules by which God intends the affairs of His Church on earth to be
conducted; but we cling to its venerable ramparts, because they afford a sure
defence for those precious, though despised doctrines of grace, the pure
transmission of which has been entrusted as a sacred duty to the church.[52]
It
was not simply that Presbyterian church order was biblical; also important was
its role in providing a model for civil and religious liberty.[53] The Act and Testimony concluded with a
commitment to work within the church to eliminate these doctrinal heresies and
their effects on the discipline and government of the church. “If the majority
of our church are against us, they will, we suppose, in the end, either see the
infatuation of their course, and retrace their steps, or they will, at last,
attempt to cut us off.”[54] But until that day, they pledged to work towards the
reformation of the church.
For those with hope for such reform,
the General Assembly of 1836 was a devastating blow. The General Assembly of
1835 had agreed to transfer the Western Foreign Mission Society to the
oversight of the General Assembly, which would create a Presbyterian Board of
Foreign Missions. But the 1836 Assembly refused, by a vote of 106-110, to
accept the transfer. Old School men objected that the ‘35 GA had already
decided the question and set the terms for the transfer. The New School
majority, led by Absalom Peters and Thomas Skinner, replied that the decision
had been made by a rump of the 1835 GA, and that “we think it unreasonable for
them to ask us to form. . . by a vote of the General Assembly, an organization,
the principles of which we do not approve.”[55] If Old School men wished to continue synodical
foreign missions, that was their prerogative, but the New School wanted no part
of that for themselves. Fearing that a denominational board would serve only
Old School interests, they insisted that foreign missions (along with domestic
missions and other benevolent action) was best conducted “by uniting with
Christians of other denominations” as “the collective body of Christ’s
disciples.”[56] A denominational board would be sectarian, and not
truly catholic.[57] The Old School, in reply, insisted that there was no
such thing as “generic Christianity,” and that true catholicity could only be
found as each denomination remained true to its own principles.[58] Catholicity could no longer be conducted through
united regional churches, so the Old School redefined it as fellowship between
denominations, while the New School tried to maintain some semblance of
regional unity–but only through individual Christians.
Also in 1836 the General Assembly
overturned the verdict of the Synod of Philadelphia, which had found Albert
Barnes guilty of heresy in his Notes on Romans. The GA voted 134-96
(with six abstentions) to clear Barnes’ Notes, and by an even more
resounding vote of 145-78 (11 abstentions) lifted the suspension imposed by the
Synod. After having voted with the majority to acquit Barnes, Samuel Miller
moved that the Assembly state that Barnes had
published opinions,
materially at variance with the Confession of Faith of the Presbyterian Church,
and with the word of God; especially with regard to original sin, the relation
of man to Adam, and justification by faith, in the atoning sacrifice and
righteousness of the Redeemer. The Assembly consider the manner in which Mr.
Barnes has controverted the language and doctrine of our public standards, as
highly reprehensible, and as adapted to pervert the minds of the rising
generation from the simplicity and purity of the Gospel plan.[59]
In
other words, Miller did not wish to remove Barnes from the ministry, but hoped
that a stern admonition would suffice. Therefore he urged that the Assembly
exhort Barnes to further edit his work to bring it into conformity with the
biblical and confessional teaching of the church. But having found Barnes to be
innocent, the Assembly was not about to reverse its position. The motion was
defeated 109-122 (three abstentions).[60] The New School majority was determined to vindicate
Barnes, and refused to countenance even a slap on the wrist.
C. The Role of Slavery in 1836
Most historians in the middle
decades of the twentieth century sided with C. Bruce Staiger’s claim that the
division of the church was the result of a covert deal between the south and
northern conservatives to get rid of the supposedly abolitionist New York
synods.[61]
But George M. Marsden, John R. McKivigan, and
James Moorhead have shown that slavery must be seen as more of a background
issue.[62]
Prior to the Barnes’ trial the
Assembly had debated whether or not to respond to a number of memorials on
slavery. After some discussion, the matter was referred to a committee chaired
by John McElhenny of Lexington Presbytery (pastor at Lewisburg, VA).
Immediately after concluding the Barnes’ trial, the Assembly returned to the
discussion of slavery. McElhenny reported the committee’s recommendation that
“Whereas the subject of
Slavery is inseparably connected with the laws of many States of this Union, in
which it exists under the sanction of said laws, and of the Constitution of the
United States; and whereas Slavery is recognised in both the Old and New
Testament as an existing relation, and is not condemned by the authority of
God, therefore, Resolved, That the General Assembly have no authority to assume
or exercise jurisdiction in regard to the existence of Slavery.”[63]
This
did not sit well with those among the New School who were intent on moving the
Presbyterian church toward an abolitionist position. But the conservatives
(both north and south) won the day. The following day, the Rev. James Hoge of
Columbus Presbytery (pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Columbus,
OH)–who had left the South as a young man due to his opposition to slavery,
recommended that since church judicatories do not have the right to bind
consciences with pronouncements based on their own authority, and since time
was growing short, the whole subject of slavery should be indefinitely
postponed. The question of indefinite postponement passed 154-87.
Unfortunately, no division was called for on the preamble–the question of
binding consciences–but nine members of the Assembly protested against its
adoption.
Barnes’ Barnes’ Miller’s Wrist-slap
By synod: Appeal Restoration (to defeat) Postpone Slavery
Missouri: 4-0 4-0 4-0 3-2
Kentucky: 2-7 2-6 1-8 6-3
Virginia 6-4 8-2 3-8 0-11
North Carolina 0-6 3-4 0-8 1-7
Tennessee 10-0 10-0 10-0 10-0
West Tennessee 5-3 5-2 5-3 4-4
South Carolina/Georgia 0-9 2-8 0-9 0-6
Mississippi/South Alabama 1-7 2-4 1-7 1-7
Southern
synods: 28-36 36-26 24-43 25-40
“Plan
of Union” Synods 55-1 22-22
Other
Northern 51-59 91-20
Synod
of Philadelphia (Not
allowed to vote) 16-5
Overall
vote: 134-96 145-78 122-109 154-87
Figure 1.5. Southern Votes in the 1836 General Assembly
Figure 1.5 makes it clear that one cannot lump the whole south together. Outside of Missouri, Tennessee and Virginia (border states where the New School had some influence), only three out of thirty-one southerners voted to sustain Barnes’ appeal. The deep south was firmly in the Old School corner. But the whole south was divided as to whether they wanted the Assembly to speak on the slavery question. Nearly two-thirds (40-25) wanted resolution on the subject–and only those from the border states wanted to postpone discus