A Guide to Reading the Westminster Confession
When the American Presbyterians adopted the Westminster Confession, they adjusted Chapter 23, the chapter concerning the civil magistrate. The Americans left 23.1 and 23.2 unchanged but removed some elements and added others to 23.3. These changes, of course, raise a number of questions. Why did the Americans make the modifications? What are their significance? Are the two versions merely different—or are they contradictory?
The import of these variances may seem little more than a historical curiosity to some, but recently, two presbyteries of the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) submitted overtures to the General Assembly for study committees on this very question. It does not seem to me that a denominational study committee is necessary. Our standards speak quite clearly. Nevertheless, the question in view is worth exploring. As a confessional Presbyterian, I believe deeply in the importance of careful readings of texts, so it’s fitting to entertain a brief exercise in confessional exegesis.
The most extreme view is that the two versions of 23.3 are contradictory theologies of government. This view carries weighty ecclesiological implications. If there is a contradiction, then an elder in the PCA would need to take an exception to the American version if he agrees with the original version. To prove the American version contradicts the original version, proponents of the extreme view must locate a clause that one version affirms and the other denies. For example, if the original version said, “Jesus Christ is not the Lord of the conscience,” but the American version said, “Jesus Christ is the Lord of the conscience,” then we would have identified a contradiction.
To sharpen our analysis, let’s consider two kinds of differences that might at first seem like contradictions but, in fact, are not contradictions. First, one version might remove statements included in the other version. Second, one version might add statements not included in the other versions. In both these cases, the mere fact that some things were removed and others added tells us only one thing: the two versions are different. However, different does not mean contradictory. For example, if you say, “Cats are mammals,” and I reply, “Frogs are amphibians,” there is no contradiction. I said something different, but not contradictory. A contradiction would arise in this scenario only if I denied what you affirmed. We must not stop at the question of whether the two versions differ. Instead, we must look at how they differ. We must consider the content of what was removed and what was added.
Let’s proceed to what was removed. The original version of the Confession reads:
[The civil magistrate] hath authority, and it is his duty, to take order, that unity and peace be preserved in the Church, that the truth of God be kept pure and entire; that all blasphemies and heresies be suppressed; all corruptions and abuses in worship and discipline prevented or reformed; and all the ordinances of God duly settled, administered, and observed. For the better effecting whereof, he hath power to call synods, to be present at them, and to provide that whatsoever is transacted in them be according to the mind of God.
The fact that the Americans removed this section is interesting, but as we have noted above, removal does not entail contradiction, nor does it indicate negation. Why? Because a confessional document may affirm a statement, deny a statement, or neither affirm nor deny. On its own, a removal falls into the third category: neither affirming nor denying.
Think about it from the perspective of confessional subscription. As a PCA minister, when I took my ordination vows, I received and adopted the Westminster Confession (1788), but I did not thereby deny everything outside of the Confession. The Confession does not say the earth is round, but by receiving and adopting it, I am not denying that we live on a globe. Confessional subscription means, “I believe these doctrines.” It does not mean, “The only things I believe are these doctrines.” All faithful elders believe many things not mentioned in the Confession. In search of contradiction, therefore, absence whether by removal or otherwise is insufficient to demonstrate the case. The American version must also add a denial of some statement in the original version.
Are there any such denials? We have at least two potential candidates. In place of what it removed, the American version says: “[The civil magistrate may not], in the least, interfere in matters of faith.”
For those of us not familiar with Reformed scholasticism, this may indeed seem like a very clear denial of the original version, but in reality, it is not. The Westminster Divines and the American Presbyterians agreed with the magisterial Reformers that the civil magistrate may not interfere in matters of faith. The key here is the preposition in because of the distinction between the authority of the magistrate in sacra verses circa sacra.
Take Francis Turretin (1623-1687), for example. He would have had no trouble subscribing to the original Confession because he affirmed all the points included in therein. He affirmed that the magistrate has authority “about sacred things” (circa sacra). Nevertheless, he also denies that the magistrate has authority “in sacred things” (in sacra). It is worth reviewing Turretin’s exposition of this distinction and the theological implications it entails, but for the purposes of this essay, we must note only one thing: the American version’s denial of the magistrate’s authority in matters of faith (in sacra) does not contradict the original version’s affirmation of the magistrate’s authority around matters of faith (circa sacra). Turretin, therefore, could have also affirmed the above statement in the American version. The original version says, “Cats are mammals,” while the American version says, “Frogs are amphibians.” They’re different in emphasis, but they’re not contradictory.
Let us review now the second candidate for a potential contradiction. The American version of the Confession reads as follows:
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.
This sentence seems to contradict the original version’s affirmation of the magistrate’s duty to suppress “blasphemies and heresies.” Of course, abuse is always evil, but to suppress blasphemy and heresy effectively, the magistrate must have some sort of punishment he can threaten, even if it is only indignity for the evildoer. Hence, it appears as if this sentence is meant to deny what the original version affirmed.
However, we must carefully analyze who may not offer indignity, violence, abuse, or injury. The Confession states “no person,” but we need clarity. Afterall, if the Confession means absolutely no person whatsoever, then this sentence would compel the magistrate to make church discipline illegal. Afterall, indignity means lowering someone’s status. And what is excommunication if it is not the ultimate indignity? It removes someone from the visible body of Christ upon the basis of their religion or infidelity. Moreover, it is also a great injury. The elders turn over the offender to Satan. For these reasons, “no person” cannot mean “absolutely no person whatsoever.”
Instead, perhaps the American Presbyterians meant no civil magistrate. This interpretation is also untenable. It would not only put the American Presbyterians at odds with the Reformed tradition, but also make them more liberal than John Locke, who taught the principle of non-toleration for atheists. Second to excommunication, one can think of no greater indignity and injury than being excluded from civil society.
At the time, Sabbath laws and blasphemy laws existed across the colonies. As late as 1811 in a liberal place like New York, the State Supreme Court ruled that it was appropriate to fine and imprison someone for blasphemy. Why? Because judges must have “judicial cognizance” of “offences against religion” (People v. Ruggles 8 Johns. R. 290 [N.Y. 1811]). The court ruled that such offenses are “punishable because they strike at the root of moral obligation.” In 1878, the legal commentator, Thomas Cooley recognized blasphemy as “punishable as a crime.” The Supreme Court still assumed as late at 1897 that the First Amendment did not protect the publication of “blasphemous articles.” In 1921, the Maine Supreme Court upheld a blasphemy conviction, and in 1941, the Tenth Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed as consistent with the First Amendment an ordinance that fined Oklahomans for “casting contumelious reproach or profane ridicule on God.” Were the 1788 Presbyterians really more liberal than these nineteenth and twentieth century jurists? Highly unlikely.
Consider John Witherspoon, one of the most influential ministers at the General Assembly that adopted the American revisions. “Of the 188 ministers at that assembly,” Kevin DeYoung notes, “52 had been personally taught by Witherspoon.” However, Witherspoon himself notes that “the magistrate may enact laws for the punishment of acts of profanity and impiety.” Moreover, Witherspoon was part of the New Jersey Provincial Congress in 1776, which approved a new state constitution that guaranteed civil rights and the ability to hold public office only to Protestants. Quite an indignity, indeed.
But there is an even bigger problem with this interpretation. If the American Presbyterians meant no civil magistrate, it would contradict not only the original version of the Confession but also the American version itself. Just two sections earlier, in 23.1, the American version says that God has given the civil magistrate the power of the sword for “the public good.” But what is the public good? We find out in the next section (23.2), where the Confession defines it as “piety, justice, and peace.” In other words, God ordained government to use the power of coercion for the sake of maintaining not only justice and peace but also piety. Hence, if “no person” means “no civil magistrate,” then the American version contradicts itself.
We have another option for how to interpret “no person”—and it is the best candidate by far. “No person” probably means no private person. During the Colonial period up through the Revolution, it was not uncommon to find rowdy Americans taking justice into their own hands, whether on the basis of someone’s supposed Popery or their tyranny (usually both). Homes were ransacked. Property destroyed. Public figures burned in effigy. Because of their bombastic Scottish heritage and reputation for certain, shall we say, operations in the English Civil Wars, the Presbyterians were often high on the suspect list. In fact, “Presbyterian” became a catchall term for subversives or revolutionaries. Perhaps to dissuade these misgivings, the American Presbyterians clarified that they do not condone vigilantism or mob violence. (Of course, this is a just and wise principle to maintain, regardless of the potential impetus.) Hence, the Presbyterians in Philadelphia had good reason to confess with one voice that it is the duty of the magistrate to protect all citizens from private persons usurping good order. Permitting exploitation or violence against citizens at the hands of private actors is part of the magistrate’s job in preserving the public good. This is why he has been given the sword, to ensure tranquility, order, and justice.
The two versions of the Confession are different. As some have put it, the original version advocated for a “hard” establishmentarianism, while the American version espouses a “soft” establishmentarianism. The Presbyterians in Philadelphia envision an America defined not by a single, national Presbyterian church but rather by a pan-Protestantism, defended and upheld by its “nursing father,” the magistrate (23.3). Such a vision is not identical with the vision of the original Confession, but neither is it strictly contradictory, at least on the points addressed above. Indeed, the continuity between the two versions forces us to face some hard questions. Does the American version contradict the original version? Or do both versions contradict our own political theology today? It seems likely that for many Protestants, the distance between them and Philadelphia is far greater than the distance between Philadelphia and Westminster Abbey.
Image: Arch Street with the Second Presbyterian Church Philadelphia. W. Birch & Son, engraving, 1799.
