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These days it seems like Christians are in search of conservatism in whatever forms they can find it, and with good reason. It seems like the cultural, political, and theological wheels on the bus are falling off. As a pastor I found a number of people looking for shelter and they thought they found a conservative haven when came to the church. They were thrilled but their sense of excitement soon wore off when they discovered that we weren’t conservative in the ways they wanted.
Many were in search of political conservatism—they want Republican ideology flowing from the pulpit—small government, low taxes, and strong national defense. Others were looking for a certain type of cultural conservatism—long jean skirt jumpers for the ladies, homeschooling for the kids, and courtship for the teenagers looking for love. And still yet others were looking for theological conservatism—they wanted a certain type of postmillennial eschatology that tried to engage culture on multiple fronts to wage theological war against all forms of unbelief. Others were looking for ethical conservatism—no consumption of alcohol, tobacco, or rhythmic movement to music of any sort. When these people didn’t find these things in varying combinations, they left because their perception was that the church wasn’t conservative.
In truth, it turns out that people often define conservative, not by a set of objective doctrinal criteria, but by a number of unwritten rules. These days, it doesn’t seem to matter what doctrines you hold (trinity, election, atonement, christology, etc) but how you voted in the last election and whether your children attend—fill in the blank—type of school. The point in all of this is that people don’t understand the difference between confessionalism versus fundamentalism, and they typically long after the latter, not the former. So what’s the difference?
Being confessional means that you define your faith and practice by a set creed—a set of confessions and catechisms—the Three Forms of Unity or the Westminster Standards, for example. Our theological forefathers determined that the doctrines contained within these documents were essential for the theology and practice of the church for generations to come. If you don’t find your personal conviction spelled out in the confession, then chances are high that it’s not a matter essential to the Christian faith but rather a matter of adiaphora, things indifferent. In other words, you are free to do or not to do—it’s a matter of Christian liberty. The clothes you wear, the schools you attend, the beverages you consume are a matter of personal preference so long as you don’t sin in the process. If your clothes are too revealing, if you’re an absentee parent with regard to your children’s education, or if you get inebriated, then these things become a problem. Otherwise, you’re free to do as conscience leads you. If, however, you believe that your personal practices, such as the clothes you wear or your political policy are things that everyone must do, then you’re promoting fundamentalism. Confessional conservatism and conservative fundamentalism are not the same thing—and in fact, the latter can be quite destructive to a church’s well-being.
No matter how well intended or sincerely held, when people begin to expect others to conform to their extra-scriptural convictions, they set up a new standard in the church beyond the word of God. No matter how vital you may think certain political policies are to the betterment of the church, the Bible says very little about tax rates, forms of government, or specific legislative policies. John Calvin once commented that the church can function, and indeed flourish, under just about any form of government. We must define our conservativitism, therefore, by what the Bible states. Our confessions and catechisms are an excellent guide in helping us determine an institution’s or person’s orthodoxy or heterodoxy. Judge a person by whether he holds to the doctrine of the trinity, for example, not by the political policies or beverages he consumes. Such an ethos allows us to unite around Christ and his word and have a church that has a diversity of practices on matters of adiaphora. To put this in terms of Romans 14, a church should not be defined by vegetarianism or eating meat but whether they rally around Christ, his gospel, and his word. Don’t be misled by the siren call of fundamentalism. Don’t allow debatable matters to become your measuring stick of orthodoxy.
