20 September 2020

Metanarratives of Church History: Mercersburg, Confessionalism, and Landmarkism

Recovering the First Reformation - Toward a Proto-Protestant Narrative of Church History (III)

Nevin imposes a theological paradigm and metanarrative on his reading of Church History but ignores the fact that the New Testament repeatedly and forcefully warns of apostasy and appeals to the Old Testament as a pattern which is replete with examples of corruption, defection and compromise. In other words the Scriptures all but told us to expect this course in terms of the history of the Church and yet Nevin's progression paradigm has no room for it.


Additionally the New Testament Church is given the status of being sojourners and pilgrims – akin to the patriarchal wanderers and later exiles of the Old Testament. When Christ comes will he find faith on the Earth? The warnings regarding the narrow way, the threat of removed candlesticks and the literally scores of admonitions and exhortations to persevere preclude any notion of cultural transformation let alone the compromising cultural appropriation that became Christendom.

And even were Nevin to ignore my suggested read of 2 Thessalonians 2, he nevertheless must reckon with the man of sin and his idolatrous claims – and the preterist argument which is employed as a convenient means of dealing with New Testament eschatology cannot reckon with the passage or relegate its application to the Neronic epoch.

Reading through Schaff's biased eyes, Nevin declares the dissenters represent 'bad stuff' – revealing that his historiography cannot accommodate the Biblical theme of a faithful remnant standing firm in the face of apostasy, let alone the idea that the Church is a body of martyrs – seemingly defeated by the world, or that the Church's call in this age is to endure hatred and persecution.

No, Nevin glories in the Church of power and wealth, the Church that shapes civilisations – the Church that loses its identity and becomes indistinguishable from the world, the Church of the apostasy as the New Testament would reckon it.

Nevin mistreats and mishandles patristic polemics and echoes many of the manipulations of pagan Roman apologists. While there is a demonstrable connection between the Reformation and the sundering and fragmentation of the unifying epistemology of Roman Catholic Christendom, Nevin once again falls into the trap of projecting 19th century developments and attitudes on to the past. It's an exercise every historian rightly utilises but the more careful historians will restrain the impulse and temper it – as it can run amok. The Orthodox world has fallen into this as well blaming all their woes and the woes of the modern world on the Latin West, the legacy of the papacy and Scholasticism. Would that history were that simple.

As Nevin nears the end of his polemic I think he touches on a point that demands further reflection and that is the relationship of the Puritan-Confessionalist ecclesiology with that of the Ecumenical Councils. Some Restorationist groups have rejected them in toto as a phenomenon of Constantinianism – and they have a point.

The Confessionalist view usually posits that they accept the first four councils – Nicaea, Constantinople, Ephesus and Chalcedon which took place between the years 325-451. However, this is not entirely true as Protestants do not simply accept the rulings of the councils but rather embrace only their Christological and Trinitarian rulings – which itself presents a puzzle as to the binding authority of these bodies and the creeds and canons they produced. The Protestant acceptance of them seems arbitrary and it's pretty difficult to make a case that they have binding authority when much that was taught and declared by these councils is not accepted. What argument can be given that the authority would only extend to issues concerning Theology-proper and Christology? Again, the criteria are at best subjective and frankly self-serving.

You can forgive Nevin if he acts as if this position is trying to have its cake and eat it too.  But in the end, Nevin's Early Christianity argument fails on multiple fronts. If there's an elephant in the room it's the presence of Constantine – and the fact that Nevin conveniently ignores him and his transformative impact on the Church.

Ultimately Nevin is blind to his own narrative which is just as arbitrary and de-coupled from Scripture as that of the Magisterial Protestants he is criticising. His advocacy of Protestantism based on the principle of development is an argument built on sand, a subjective philosophically rooted narrative imposed on the chronological data.

And yet Nevin's view of Rome and the general course of Church history (while not framed in those exact terms) is today's Evangelical norm – Rome was and is valid and in terms of the culture war against humanistic secularism, the modern Evangelical finds an ally in Rome. No one would have guessed that the ecumenical movement would bear fruit – not on a foundation of theological liberalism and the quest for the lowest common denominator – but in Dominionism and the prioritisation of so-called Christian culture. The unity of today's Neo-Christendom movement (comprised of both Evangelicals and Catholics) is not born of the Spirit or even of theological liberalism but out of zeal for politics.

Another alternative to both the Puritan narrative of restored primitivism as well as the Roman Catholic and Mercersburg narratives was found in the Whig histories of figures like JA Wylie (1808-1890).

A modification of what Nevin calls the Puritan View, in reality it is an outlook that incorporates Nevin's progressive view as well – the Whig approach reckons Rome as apostate, glories in the testimony of medieval dissent and yet anachronistically and often dishonestly transforms these groups into Magisterial-Confessional Protestants. Unlike Nevin, the Whig view argues Protestantism is reconstituted New Testament Christianity but like Nevin it incorporates a progress principle that views Roman Christendom as aberrant and degenerate and argues for a Protestant Christendom that embraces the development of political ideas such as classical liberalism (often in a nationalist as opposed to throne and altar form) as well as science, industry and modernist economics. In other words Protestantism wasn't just about Reforming the Church but moving civilisation into a new and advanced phase.*

An alternative but not unrelated view is found in Landmarkism which in some respects enshrines many of the impulses and proclivities of the Whig era and yet identifies the Church in the narrowest of terms. A historical argument, the historiography in the case of Landmarkism is so narrow as to become a-historical, even fantastical and romantic.

Rising in the 19th century, Landmarkism would find its ultimate expression in the 1931 publication The Trail of Blood. The pamphlet is still occasionally on the book table in some Fundamentalist churches. The argument is fairly simple. Until the Reformation and the appearance of Baptist ecclesiastical bodies, the True Church was comprised of dissident groups that resisted Rome. What unified them? They were Baptists – advocates of believer's baptism by immersion.

Landmarkism makes the Baptist position (or sole distinctive) that of believer's baptism by immersion into the very gospel – the mark of the True Church. However its adherents often claim other gospel elements as being unique or distinctive to the Baptist camp – which is simply not true. Believer's baptism by immersion is in fact the only Baptist distinctive.

In addition the many groups it cites as part of its Baptist chain or succession were not baptistic in doctrine.

The Waldensians were not baptists. This is fairly easily proven from the record. Neither were the Novatians or Donatists. None of them advocated believer's baptism on the basis that it's the 'first sign of obedience' nor did they mandate or even practice immersion. The aforementioned groups and many others (such as the Lollards and various Hussite groups) were convinced paedobaptists – believing their children to be members of the Church.

Many Baptists fall into a simple trap and confuse re-baptism with the Baptist principle of Believer's Baptism. Did the Donatists for example re-baptise converts? Yes, they did. But they didn't do so on the basis of rejecting paedobaptism. Rather they viewed Roman Catholic baptism as invalid – regardless of the age or mode. That's a very different thing and rooted in a different ecclesiology than what is found in Baptist sacramentology (or lack thereof).

Other groups such as the Paulicians and Albigenses were of dubious orthodoxy – and their practices regarding baptism were not based on Scripture. I think a case can be made that the Paulicians were subject to misrepresentation by Orthodox historians and may not have been the Gnostic-Manichaean types they are accused of being – but that still doesn't make them into Baptists.

Modern Confessionalists have their narratives as well. Rome was the True Church until she formally denied Justification by Faith Alone at Trent in 1563. Never mind the fact that Rome had never taught the doctrine but she (apparently) remained in good standing until she formally denied it. Thus at that moment a spiritual transference occurred with the Protestant Churches taking up the sceptre (as it were) and becoming the True Church. I've also written elsewhere about some of the problems with the Confessionalist narrative because it too is rooted in a progressive theology and yet once that principle is established the argument that the progression necessarily stops in the 15th or 16th century doesn't prove very convincing – it seems contrived, arbitrary and rather convenient. In other words they embrace a progressive orthodoxy until the point of their movement. Then everything must stop and never change. That's rather convenient, even a bit slippery. But unlike them or the liberals who argue for continued progression the ethos of the First Reformation would instead argue the whole idea of progression is itself wrong-headed and prone to abuse – a point that will be revisited in later essays in this series.

When Confessionalists speak of proto-Protestantism, the usual (and often derisive) assumption is some form of Landmarkism is at work. Some speak of forerunners to the Reformation such as Wycliffe and Hus – and strangely enough Savonarola and yet they are viewed as curiosities or mere rumblings of distant thunder – the Magisterial Reformation being the real and salient event.

To focus too much on these groups as a means to establish an anti-Catholic remnant narrative strikes many as falling into the kind of simplistic romantic whitewash of history that you find with Landmarkism – poor historiography wed to poor theology.

Landmarkism needs to be dispensed with on multiple fronts as baptism is not an organising principle for a remnant ecclesiology. EH Broadbent attempts an alternative form in The Pilgrim Church but as I've written elsewhere, the work is deficient on many fronts. It too falls into historical error, in some cases erroneously reporting the history and theology of some groups, in other cases falling into glaring omissions. His read is through Plymouth Brethren eyes and while the book certainly has some high points, it doesn't quite manage to put it all together.

There is another organising principle that many seem to have missed but it's one that needs to be revisited and God willing we shall explore it anon.

Continue reading Part 4

----

*Many emphasize and even celebrate the connections between the Reformation heritage and the rise of Classical Liberalism. While some have certainly overplayed this argument, there are connections – but interestingly they're not connected to the New Testament but to the Magisterial Reformation's Renaissance context and heritage – a connection many Confessionalists and Evangelicals would rather not make. I would go further and argue that the Renaissance exploration of philosophy and the epoch's crisis over epistemology played a part in driving the Calvinist and Lutheran movements into the re-embrace of Scholasticism during the late 16th and early 17th century. Obviously many in those camps would strongly dispute this.