I am a confessional Presbyterian. I subscribe to the Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms without exception. Not only do I teach Reformed soteriology, but I shamelessly contend for careful Sabbath observance, the avoidance of images of Christ, and the regulative principle of worship. I lead my congregation in Psalm-singing. I train my elders with a line-by-line study through the Westminster standards. If you walk into my church on a Sunday morning, you will have no doubt that we are Presbyterian and proud of it.

But I give all these bona fides because not all is well in confessional Presbyterian circles. I’m calling the tendency “creeping confessionalism.” That’s when our confessionalism becomes so intense that it extends even beyond the borders of the confession. We start erecting new standards to guard the old standards, and these new standards become signals to say, “We’re the really real Presbyterians.”

You certainly see this online, but I almost expect that. The kind of person who uses the X handle “@1646orDeath” is probably going to be a little hardcore. But I’ve also experienced it in person. It’s not uncommon for a family of Reformed Christians to ask to meet with me as they consider our church. They like our confessionalism, our simplicity, our commitment to our principles. But then, they’ll find something they don’t like, something that has nothing to do with the faithfulness of the church, and start looking elsewhere. We are one of two viable Presbyterian churches within an hour radius, so some of these people end up driving an hour to church. Some just determine to skip worship altogether and have an extended family worship time instead. In my opinion, neither of these are viable long-term options.

But, you may ask, what are they concerned about? Here are just a few examples.

Of Second Services and Family Meals

Maybe the most common concern is the lack of a second service. Personally, I would love to have a second service, and we’ve had conversations about the possibility. But there are trade-offs. I am a solo pastor, and our church is very rural. I would love to give my time to preparing a second service, but that will certainly mean I have to give something else up. That may very well be worth it, but it’s not the no-brainer some people make it out to be. Pastoral visits and prayer meetings and various administrative tasks are valuable, and in most cases, indispensable. We also have to consider our congregation. Many of our older folks cannot drive at night, but if we put our service early enough to serve them, our congregants who drive thirty or more minutes to worship with us will have logistical issues. I’m also concerned about setting a difficult precedent for the inevitable time when I am no longer the pastor of this church. Unless Jesus returns, I will not be the pastor forever. A second service makes it more difficult for the church to fill the pulpit in the absence of the pastor, or it will place a burden on a younger pastor who may not be ready for twice-Sunday preaching.

This brings me to the second issue: communion frequency. I’ve seen both ends of the spectrum on this. Some want weekly communion. But once again, that sets a precedent that’s impossible to maintain in the absence of a pastor. Others want quarterly communion seasons. I have no objection to that in principle, but our Session has determined that monthly administration is best for the spiritual health of the congregation we serve. And I haven’t even mentioned the questions about the various options for administration. I’ve seen people refuse to take communion because we use grape juice or because we don’t use a common cup.

Maybe the most pernicious issue is the concern that not every member of our church is as hardcore as I am. All of our elders subscribe to the Westminster standards, but we have many members who are unsure about things like election and infant baptism. We have people that think congregational church government is better. We even have people who would prefer some charismatic expression in worship. None of that gives me any heartburn. They’re not elders, and they won’t be elders unless they revise their views. Most of them are simply faithful Christians who want to sit under faithful preaching and enjoy the communion of the saints even if they disagree with our doctrinal distinctives. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, and it’s exactly what we should expect. People are at different places in their Christian walk, and not every member of a church is going to be in theological lockstep.

The problem with all of these things (and there are others) is that none of them are essential to the faithfulness of a Reformed church. A church is not more or less faithful because they don’t have two services or have a particular communion schedule or “church culture.” Faithfulness is determined by the faithful reading and preaching of the Word and the right administration of the sacraments, by the right use of discipline and the purity of worship.

The Problem Beneath the Surface

The source of the problem, I think, comes down to two things. First, some people have burdened consciences. They’ve been convinced by some internet personality that these things are non-negotiable, and they are legitimately trying to guard themselves. I have sympathy for this group. Someone has stolen their liberty, and it will take time to untangle themselves from that.

But more often, I think we’re dealing with tribal counter-signaling. There’s a religious pride associated with not being like those YRR types or those recovering mainliners. It can feel good to look down on a minister for reading R.C. Sproul instead of your favorite obscure Dutch theologian. We can end up like those Pharisees who like to walk around in long robes and love greetings in the marketplaces and the best seats in the synagogues, looking quite faithful on the outside, but with hearts cold to God.

Now, if you like second services or a certain communion schedule or church culture, you are free to attend a church that meets those expectations. When I’m traveling, that’s often the kind of church I’m looking to visit. And I check bulletins for psalms and Scripture readings before I visit. And if you live in a place with enough variety where you can choose to join a church according to your preferences, go for it.

But don’t turn your nose up at that church down the street who really loves the Gettys or the old revival hymns. Don’t question the Christian sincerity of the church that does small groups instead of a second worship service. These are not issues of confessional fidelity, and they’re certainly not issues of salvation. The means of grace are still administered those churches, the gospel is still preached and the sacraments are still administered. The elders of those churches know their sheep, and they are seeking to minister to their sheep in a way that is most fitting.

You may have your preferences, but God isn’t confined to those preferences. So you can unburden your conscience, and you can unburden your heart. The gospel is bigger than you; the church is bigger than you. According to your place, contend for the fidelity to the true faith, but leave the rest up to God. He is the King, and he is sovereign over his kingdom, the Church. He will lead her into all holiness to present her blameless on that last day. You must only trust him.