Meet Mark Driscoll

Meet Mark Driscoll, the man from Seattle who's "making Calvinism cool." (H.T.: H.S.)

Since I self-identify as Calvinist, and am known in our blogring as "that Calvinist dude," I need to make a couple of points.

First, I adhere specifically to the doctrines of the English Reformers as expressed in the Westminster Confession* and as presently institutionalized in the Presbyterian Church. While we emphasize our continuity with the core teachings of John Calvin, we do not necessarily give a blanket endorsement to everything the man himself said or did. Let me put it this way: I would consult Calvin's writings to better understand the Confession or to address matters on which the Confession is silent. I would not, however, substitute his writings for the Confession.

Second, in the context of Mark Driscoll's ministry, this distinction is most specifically relevant on the matter of church government. The NYT article -- fairly written for the most part -- tells the following story:

Nowhere is the connection between Driscoll’s hypermasculinity and his Calvinist theology clearer than in his refusal to tolerate opposition at Mars Hill. The Reformed tradition’s resistance to compromise and emphasis on the purity of the worshipping community has always contained the seeds of authoritarianism: John Calvin had heretics burned at the stake and made a man who casually criticized him at a dinner party march through the streets of Geneva, kneeling at every intersection to beg forgiveness. Mars Hill is not 16th-century Geneva, but Driscoll has little patience for dissent. In 2007, two elders protested a plan to reorganize the church that, according to critics, consolidated power in the hands of Driscoll and his closest aides. Driscoll told the congregation that he asked advice on how to handle stubborn subordinates from a “mixed martial artist and Ultimate Fighter, good guy” who attends Mars Hill. “His answer was brilliant,” Driscoll reported. “He said, ‘I break their nose.’ ” When one of the renegade elders refused to repent, the church leadership ordered members to shun him. One member complained on an online message board and instantly found his membership privileges suspended. “They are sinning through questioning,” Driscoll preached. John Calvin couldn’t have said it better himself.

First, for Molly Worthen to characterize the Anabaptist leaders executed in Geneva as mere "heretics" is misleading: these men were, in fact, political anarchists. While I would concede that state power should not be used to enforce religious conformity, it is a little naive to expect any 16th-century government to have tolerated political agitation under the guise of religious freedom.

Second, while I will need to research how Geneva's churches were actually run, Driscoll by this account departs dramatically from Presbyterian church government, which, like republicanism, is chock-a-block with checks and balances. In a typical Presbyterian church, a pastor has but one vote on the board of directors. (Presbyterians have their own words for this stuff, which I won't confuse you with at present.) It is the board, not the pastor, that wields authority in the local church, including the power to hire the pastor (though this is subject to ratification by the congregation). The board itself submits to yearly election by the members of the congregation: usually, the outgoing board chooses a slate of candidates for the incoming board, which the congregation votes up-or-down. (I've never seen a "down" vote, so I'm not sure what happens in that event.) Becoming a voting member of the congregation requires examination and approval by the board, and a public profession of faith. (This isn't as difficult as it sounds: my wife was admitted to membership despite not being particularly Calvinist in her own theology.) The board can also call a member to account for misbehavior, and even discipline him by withholding the sacraments, although I've only ever seen this done once; people so called to account almost always straighten up.

Local churches, in turn, are subject to the discipline of the denomination, whose leadership is elected by representatives of the local churches. And so it goes.

The issue of dissent is a little trickier. Dissent is not prohibited, but it is constrained by process. A member, and even a board member, is prohibited from subverting the authority of the leadership, but the notion that they are "sinning through questioning" would be alien to Presbyterian government.

These checks and balances are not without cost. A ministry such as Driscoll's, or like Dobson's Focus on the Family, would be much, much more difficult to get started, and in practice are vanishingly rare among Presbyterians. So I will stipulate that American religious life is made much more dynamic by the work of "religious entrepreneurs" who have an idea, put out a shingle, and thrive or perish on their ability to draw a following. But the point here is that Presbyterian Calvinists are not authoritarian; in fact, we actively resist the cults of personality from whence derive the authoritarianism of such as Mark Driscoll.

*I should make clear, and not just pro forma, that the Confession is a "subordinate standard" -- subordinate, that is, to the Scriptures.