This is the second of four articles, based on addresses to the Free Church of Scotland (Continuing) United States Summer Conference, August 2018.1Alasdair Macleod, The Free Church of Scotland 1843—the Kingship of Christ in the Church, The Master’s Trumpet, Vol. 11, Spring 2020.
Christ himself is King over what is taught in his church. His Word defines truth and determines the doctrine to be taught in his church. This does not sound controversial or radical, yet, incredibly, that truth became a battleground in the Free Church of Scotland.
1. Overview
The course of nineteenth-century Free Church history is one of great tragedies of all church history. The church that, in 1843, took a great stand for the kingship of Christ was not perfect, but was passionately evangelical, Reformed, and Protestant. All across the country, the Free Church was known for reverent services of worship structured around the Word, unaccompanied psalm singing in worship, and confessional Calvinistic preaching of the gospel. That was true in the languages of English and Gaelic, in large and fashionable churches in Edinburgh and in small rural congregations in remote parts of the Highlands, on the home field and on the mission field.
But in 1892, less than fifty years later, while some of the same ministers still sat in the general assembly, the Free Church passed a declaratory act that declared that “diversity of opinion is recognised in this Church on such points in the Confession as do not enter into the substance of the Reformed Faith therein set forth.”2Quoted in Alexander Stewart & J. Kennedy Cameron, The Free Church of Scotland, 1843–1910 (Edinburgh, 1920), 70. It was a definite loosening of commitment that indicated a private declension from rigorous doctrinal commitment to the Confession amongst ministers and members alike. Furthermore, as any lawyer would point out, language that loose could be interpreted to mean almost anything in terms of doctrinal commitment. As an indicator for the future, the Declaratory Act stated that the Free Church was no longer sure of what it believed nor would it be consistent in maintaining any standard of commitment.
A key insight from my own research into the period is the significance of generations. There were three clear and distinct generations of ministers in the Free Church, and these were especially evident in the professors appointed in the divinity colleges. Those appointed in the immediate wake of the Disruption, and up to about 1860, were orthodox Calvinists. For example, William Cunningham, who held the chair of church history at New College, Edinburgh, from 1845 to 1861, remains a most edifying writer and an insightful historical theologian whose works have been republished by the Banner of Truth Trust in the late twentieth century. Others were men of the capacities of James Buchanan, James Bannerman, and George Smeaton.
However, those appointed between about 1860 and 1880 were of a different stamp—in retrospect, transitional figures. Usually, in person, they were fairly orthodox, but the key point was that they were open to tolerating and accepting broader views. They were not, perhaps, outspoken higher critics, but nor were they resolutely opposed to that influence and generally seemed to accommodate rather than resist the new teaching from Germany. Robert Rainy, Cunningham’s successor in the chair of church history from 1861, would be a typical example.3For his careful triangulation on the doctrine of Scripture especially, see Andrew L. Drummond & James Buloch, The Church in Late Victorian Scotland (Edinburgh, 1978), 6–9). Others of the same mould were Islay Burns, William Garden Blaikie and James Candlish. These men have written some books worthy of being read to this day, but a measure of caution is needed, especially in areas where the inspiration of Scripture was under contemporary assault.
But those appointed after about 1880 (together with a couple who had come before, such as William Robertson Smith) were mostly definite liberal evangelicals who rejected orthodox Calvinism, held to universal theories of the atonement, and promoted evolutionary formulations of the doctrines of creation and revelation. A good example would be Marcus Dods, who held the chair of the New Testament at New College from 1889. Others would include A. B. Bruce, George Adam Smith, and James Denney. One could not recommend reading anything written by these men— they were far removed from Westminster orthodoxy.4For records of the professors of the Free Church, see W. Ewing, Annals of the Free Church of Scotland, 1843–1900, 1 & 2 vol., (Edinburgh, 1914), 1;45–59.
Why did this change occur? I believe the trends evident in the nineteenth-century Free Church are those that have dominated Scottish church history ever since—the line from the Declaratory Act of 1892 to the worst modern heresies is evident, as is, more positively, the line of opposition to these trends. By 1892 the Free Church still looked conservative. It was dignified and black-suited, reverent in its services, using the Authorized Version in pulpit and prayer, but on everything that mattered it had capitulated. The outward changes still to come in the Scottish church were just the logical outworking of the intellectual change at source in the divinity colleges.
This underlines the importance of rigorous orthodoxy in the training of ministers, the need for genuine and continuing Confessional commitment to be required of all office bearers, and the importance more generally of the instruction of young people. They need to be taught to hold and value the truth and to be resilient in the face of opposition, which is inevitable in this world. The fate of our church depends, in human terms, upon the faithfulness of the next generation to preserve and maintain the witness for truth to which we hold.
II. Case Study—William Robertson Smith
One particular case indicates the shift in the Free Church, and why it matters. In 1876, a young Free Church professor began to contribute to the Encyclopedia Britannica. William Robertson Smith (1845–94) was a genius of the first order—arguably the outstanding academic that nineteenth-century Scotland produced in any field. John Rogerson called him “one of Britain’s finest ever scholars.”5J. W. Rogerson, quoted in William Johnstone, ed., William Robertson Smith: Essays in Reassessment (Sheffield, 1995), 16. As a young man, he studied at New College under A. B. Davidson, and was inspired to a love of Hebrew. Davidson was a crucial transitional figure—he argued that the Old Testament books contained ‘sporadic flashes of the divine.’6Quoted in A. C. Cheyne, The Transforming of the Kirk (Edinburgh, 1983), 42. This was a subtle but devastating change from the Christ-centred exegesis of older writers such as Patrick Fairbairn.
Then Smith went to Germany where he studied under Albrecht Ritschl, the rationalist, and imbibed more higher criticism. In 1870 he was ordained and appointed professor of Hebrew at the Free Church College, Aberdeen, aged just 23. The invitation to contribute to the Encyclopedia Britannica underlined Smith’s growing scholarly reputation. The Encyclopedia was a huge project, intended to codify definitively the knowledge of Victorian Britain. The invitation to write key religious articles of early volumes, like “Angels” and “Bible” was therefore immensely significant, an honour both to Smith and to the Free Church. There is a danger here—one cause of the decline in the Free Church was the quest for academic respectability. We must examine ourselves on this point: Whose approval do we desire above all? Is Christ really your King?
It is important to remember that the professors’ lectures in the Colleges were not open to the public. Their sermons remained orthodox, and indeed Robertson Smith was regarded as a good evangelical preacher. His critical theories had been reserved for the classroom. But now, as the volumes of the Encyclopedia were published, the Free Church public received a shocking insight into the views of their own professor. On “Angels,” his article suggested that he did not believe in their existence. Under “‘Hebrew Literature,” he treated Song of Solomon just as a secular love poem. Worst of all, with regard to Deuteronomy, Smith argued for a late date which made its origin as a work of Moses impossible. This problem was huge—the book presented itself to the reader as Moses’ sermons to Israel on the eve of her entry to Canaan; furthermore, Christ quoted from Deuteronomy, attributing it to Moses. It is important to understand Smith’s position—he did believe in God and in the uniqueness of Christ, but he thought criticism would eventually yield a surer and more accurate foundation for the Christian faith. This was a faith-based position, though one that has not at all been vindicated by twentieth-century academia. But the problem remained for Smith’s readers—if Scripture could not be trusted, if Christ could not be trusted, where was Smith’s authority in religion? Who was his king? Here was the problem in the Free Church—a fundamental refusal to submit the mind, the reason, and the opinions to the Word of Christ.
The result was uproar. There was little initial support for Smith’s position—in 1876 he was agreed on all sides in the Free Church to be wrong. The question was whether he should have liberty to be wrong on such points, or whether he should be removed from his post. Many disagreed, and the matter became a disciplinary case before the courts of Free Church. The case commenced in 1877 and dragged on until 1881.
Essentially there emerged three positions. The conservative men—notably James Begg and John Kennedy—held that Smith was a heretic and should face church discipline. The liberal wing of the Church—men like Alexander Whyte and Thomas Lindsay—held that Smith had merely been too forthright and should exercise greater caution in future. The middle way—advocated by Robert Rainy—was that Smith had overstepped a mark and should be removed from his position but not disciplined, and with no condemnation of his teaching. This proposal eventually triumphed. In 1881 Smith was dismissed accordingly, but as a minister in good standing. He went on to a very distinguished academic career, latterly as full professor of Arabic at the University of Cambridge.
It looked like a conservative victory, but it was a hollow one. The case gave huge publicity to Smith’s views and made him a martyr. As Smith was defeated in final vote, he saw the younger generation of ministers overwhelmingly support him, the students’ bench applaud him, and at a rally afterwards, two younger professors (Lindsay and Candlish) both declare with impunity that they held the same doctrines as Smith. In five years, Smith’s views had gone from unheard of to widespread. Higher critical views had been widely advocated and discussed—the majority had conceded that they should be permitted, and many had embraced them openly. From then on, higher criticism would be taught widely in the Free Church Colleges, ensuring that its influence would shape the ministry, and by extension, the Church of the future.
What conclusion do we reach on these views? Here is the nub: when Christ quoted from Deuteronomy as “Moses,” was he wrong (Matt. 19:8)? When he called Scripture the “word of God” (Mark 7:13), directly identifying written Old Testament revelation with the veracity of God, was he wrong? Are you wiser than him, or is Christ your King?
III. Broader Movement of Change
As the century progressed, there was movement in other areas. In worship there was pressure for change. Victorian society demanded respectability—it was an age that prized taste, refinement, and culture. The trend was therefore to replace precentors with organs, metrical psalms with supposedly more elegant and literary hymns, and extemporaneous prayers with the decorum of read devotions from a service book. Even the sacraments were not immune—the common cup was replaced with thimbles, and eventually alcoholic wine with grape juice. The movement was from the taste of Scripture to the taste of Victorian popular culture.
Today, society prizes not respectability, but youth—the perpetuation of teenage irresponsibility into adult life. So we have a worship culture of praise bands, absurdly casual dress totally at odds with the profession of engagement in worship of the Almighty, and a deprecation of propositional instruction and authoritative leadership. The drum kit may be a radically different outcome from the pipe organ, but it originates from the same error!
This was more than cultural change—the issue was theological. In particular, the rejection of psalm singing is always rooted in discomfort with the content of the psalms. Specifically, its opponents are uncomfortable with calling for the vengeance of God upon the enemies of Christ, with cursing and expressing hatred for the enemies of Christ, and with expressions of extreme emotion, including intense spiritual despondency. Again, there is a warning here.
If you have a problem with the imprecatory psalms, your view of the holiness of God is defective, your view of sinfulness of sin inadequate, your view of the crown rights of Christ is deficient, your view of the atoning sufferings required of Christ is insufficient in terms of Biblical revelation, your view of the church’s purpose is lacking, and, worst of all, your view of the desirability of the final eternal state of God’s purpose is utterly unworthy of a professed child of God. Consider how far-reaching this problem is, covering all six loci of Reformed systematic theology.
Is your taste bowing to Scripture, or not? If you prefer the sentiments in hymns, do you not refuse to submit to Christ? If you are more comfortable singing some hymns than some psalms, then you must accept that in these respects, you are diverging from the mind of Christ.
In 1872 the change was made, and once it was made the pace of theological change rapidly accelerated. As a church sings, so it believes.
Another vital area of theological change was the question of the extent of the atonement—for whom did Christ die? The whole spirit of the age was sentimental. The evangelist D. L. Moody had a massive influence in this area, not by challenging the doctrine; he simply omitted it from his teaching. Without ever really being confronted head-on, the majority of Free Church ministers just stopped preaching the limited atonement, and the next generation did not believe it.7For further discussion of the scale and pace of change in the late Victorian Free Church, cf. G. N. M. Collins, The Heritage of Our Fathers (Edinburgh, 1976), 78–80.
IV. Culmination—the Declaratory Act
With change evident in views of Scripture, worship, and theology, there was a growing demand in the Free Church to ease the standard of confessional subscription. In practice, this flexibility functioned already, but the majority wanted to formalize it, and in 1892, the assembly’s Declaratory Act did just that. As recently as 1881, Robertson Smith had been suspended on the basis that it was considered no longer expedient for him to teach, now the Free Church declared liberty for all office-bearers to diverge from strict Confessional teaching. In ten years, opinion had shifted to the extent that the resolution of the Smith case, taken again, would unquestionably have been the reverse of the outcome in 1881.
There was extensive dissent and protest throughout the Church against the Declaratory Act. One minister went further, and tabled a protest in form of separation. Another minister joined him, along with a group of able divinity students and some thousands of people chiefly in the Highlands, forming the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland.
Others, those that we believe continued the Free Church testimony, remained under protest. The point is important— no one has an automatic right to separate when they choose. The Declaratory Act was just that, a declaration. It was wrong, even wicked in the door flung wide open to error of all kinds. It was unconstitutional because it professed to loosen subscription, without actually amending vows that continued to commit men to the “whole doctrine” of the Confession. But it was merely declaratory.
The Church can declare something, and one can dissent, and even protest. But the Free Churchmen were still under the same vows, still had the same rights and responsibilities as before, and could remain under protest against the Declaratory Act. The Act placed no obligation upon any man. You did not have to agree, and could oppose it with might and main and still be a Free Churchman.
As Charles Hodge wrote:
Schism is separation from the Church without adequate cause. It is a breach of Christian fellowship and subjection, enjoined by Christ on His people. This has ever been regarded as a great sin. No man is justifiable in thus breaking up the unity of the Church, unless he is required to profess or do something which the Bible condemns as false or wrong, or else he is prohibited from professing or doing what the Bible commands.8Charles Hodge, Discussions in Church Polity (New York, 1878), 412.
Our forebearers in the Free Church continued as office-bearers under exactly the same vows as before. They were entitled to protest vigorously against the Declaratory Act, and did so. Yet still they could remain in good conscience within the Free Church, as resolute opponents of the liberal movement, in protest against the false declaration the Assembly had made. Our forebearers remained in the Free Church, continued the fight against liberalism, remaining absolutely and resolutely committed to the same confessional standard as before. They continued to testify to the Kingship of Christ in doctrine, and so must we.
Conclusion
The tragic history of the doctrinal decline of the Victorian Free Church conveys a warning to the present-day Church. The Word of God must stand as the very definition of truth for the people of God. When the choice is between ease and the Truth, the respect of the world and the Truth, academic credibility and the Truth, let us always remember what Truth is, and Who defines Truth. “The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever” (Isa. 40:8).
Equally, the Word must stand over personal preference. Whether your objection is moral, whether it is a matter of taste, whether it is from sentiment, let God be God. Let His morality guide yours, His taste direct yours, His attitude be your attitude.
See finally the value of clear, genuine, and thoroughgoing subscription to a Reformed confessional standard. The Westminster Confession offers precise definition, clear categories, and Biblical grounding and exegesis throughout. When this subscription is “live,” it allows ministers to be held to account and lets congregations know what to expect. Where sincere subscription continues, consistency is maintained.
Footnotes
- 1Alasdair Macleod, The Free Church of Scotland 1843—the Kingship of Christ in the Church, The Master’s Trumpet, Vol. 11, Spring 2020. ↩︎
- 2Quoted in Alexander Stewart & J. Kennedy Cameron, The Free Church of Scotland, 1843–1910 (Edinburgh, 1920), 70. ↩︎
- 3For his careful triangulation on the doctrine of Scripture especially, see Andrew L. Drummond & James Buloch, The Church in Late Victorian Scotland (Edinburgh, 1978), 6–9). ↩︎
- 4For records of the professors of the Free Church, see W. Ewing, Annals of the Free Church of Scotland, 1843–1900, 1 & 2 vol., (Edinburgh, 1914), 1;45–59. ↩︎
- 5J. W. Rogerson, quoted in William Johnstone, ed., William Robertson Smith: Essays in Reassessment (Sheffield, 1995), 16. ↩︎
- 6Quoted in A. C. Cheyne, The Transforming of the Kirk (Edinburgh, 1983), 42. ↩︎
- 7For further discussion of the scale and pace of change in the late Victorian Free Church, cf. G. N. M. Collins, The Heritage of Our Fathers (Edinburgh, 1976), 78–80. ↩︎
- 8Charles Hodge, Discussions in Church Polity (New York, 1878), 412. ↩︎
