Charles Hodge on Presbyterian Union and Ecumenicity

D. G. Hart and John R. Muether

Extracted from Ordained Servant vol. 7, no. 2 (Apr. 1998), pp. 35-37


It is difficult to read early issues of the New Horizons magazine without getting the impression that its editorial vision was to see that the magazine and the denomination it served go out of existence. Picking up where the recently defunct Presbyterian Guardian left off, the New Horizons from its first issue in 1980 enthusiastically outlined the new opportunities that lay before the Orthodox Presbyterian Church as it contemplated union with the Presbyterian Church in America and (at the same time) with the Reformed Presbyterian Church, Evangelical Synod. Liberalism was dying, and a union with these allies would launch conservative American Presbyterians into a strategic new era, resulting in a denomination over ten times the size of the OPC and providing an organizational structure better tailored for nationwide witness. Already partnered in the joint-ownership of Great Commission Publications, a merger would align the OPC with a fast-growing missions program. As one writer enthusiastically put it, “we aren’t here to reach the Presbyterian Church USA, but all of America—one at a time!” To many observers, this ecumenical moment was unique and had to be seized. In the words of a letter writer, “now is the time to effect a united church that will be a clear testimony to the Reformed faith.”

As the decade unfolded, the hopes of union were dashed, first by the refusal of the PCA to receive the OPC in 1982, and then in 1986 when the General Assembly declined to join the PCA (the plan of union received a majority, but fell short of the required three-quarters majority). Disappointed commissioners filed a protest against the Assembly that they claimed had “neglected to strengthen its impact for ministry in the world.” The protest went on to describe the vote as “a serious setback to our hopes for a united, vital, biblical and nationwide Presbyterian church.” Even worse for such disappointed commissioners was the impression the vote cast upon the OPC: “we communicate to the PCA and to the world an attitude of superiority.... The crossroad has been reached and the Assembly has chosen a course. In our judgment this course looks backward instead of forward, inward instead of outward, and is exclusive rather than inclusive. Our deepest concern is that this course may not be altered in the future.”

Along with its disappointment, the protesters suggested that they would consider denominational alternatives: “given this direction, some may be confronted with new choices.” The result for many was “voluntary realignment” of ministers and congregations into the PCA.

When the 1991 General Assembly wondered whether it ought to pursue “Joining and Receiving” any longer as the instrument for merger with the PCA, it seemed that the decade-long “window for union” had closed. As the Committee on Ecumenicity and Inter-church Relations turned from the PCA and began active conversations with the Reformed Church in the United States and the Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America, it also appeared that the church was divided. A protest at the 1991 Assembly voiced concern that “the OPC as a whole [was] not united as to our future ecumenical direction.”

What is striking about the rhetoric surrounding the union that didn’t happen was its similarity to arguments that accompanied a union that did happen, a century earlier in American Presbyterian history. More precisely, it was the 1869 reunion between the Old School Presbyterian Church and the New School Presbyterian Church that healed the breech that took place in 1837. That reunion was also accompanied by a pervasive sense that Presbyterians were confronting a unique ecumenical moment. The Civil War had just ended, and the Northern states were becoming a Union not only in name but also in reality. As steamships were bringing immigrants to American shores and railroads pushing the population westward, the cultural landscape was changing dramatically, and Presbyterians were persuaded that only an organizationally united witness could position the church to capitalize on nationwide evangelistic opportunities. And with the emergence of America as a world power, the church was now poised to engage in world-wide witness and cultural transformation.

Both camps generally expressed optimism over this moment. New School theologian Henry Boynton Smith cheerfully proclaimed that Presbyterian sectarianism was “losing its tenacity,” and he saw in a united church the prospects of “the most effective Christian organization on the continent.” For their part, Old Schoolers such as Lyman Atwater and A. A. Hodge returned the enthusiasm in kind, and pronounced the New School “theologically sound.”

In the midst of this northern ecumenical spirit Charles Hodge provided a voice of dissent. Anticipating the concerns which were to arise later in OPC union debates, Hodge argued that the union was based on the “latitudinarian principle of subscription” which reduced creedal subscription to “essential doctrines.” This was the “broadest of broad church principles,” and indicated that the confessional issues that caused the division of 1837 were not resolved. “The Old School had surrendered everything,” he lamented, and the New School was “willing to receive us as repentant sinners.” Such terms would cost Old School Presbyterians their theological identity for the sake of “sentiment and expedience.” Finally, he warned that “if truth be lost, all is lost. Our numbers, wealth and influence will avail nothing.”

Hodge’s fears proved valid. In Leffert Loetscher’s words, the reunion of 1869 produced the largely unintentional consequence of a “broadening church,” where organizational efficiency eclipsed theological precision. Within twenty-five years of the reunion northern Presbyterians began serious efforts at creedal revision. As the nineteenth century drew to a close, America’s gilded age became Presbyterian’s gilded age as well, as it experienced both spectacular growth and advancing secularization.

The point is not to suggest that a similarly catastrophic future would have confronted OPCers had they merged with the PCA. Rather, what is noteworthy in this comparison is that Hodge refused to concede that opposition to union relegated him to a position of sectarian isolationism. As his son described it, Charles Hodge believed that “under the present condition of the universal church, each denomination has its special gifts and intrusted function, and that the gift and function of the Old School Presbyterian Church was one of the most precious and indispensable, and one which no other could fulfill.” Hodge’s plea was not a call for an inward, backward, and exclusive church. On the contrary, he believed that Presbyterians could best serve their brothers in other denominations only by being good Presbyterians.

Sixty years later, another ecumenical moment confronted a conservative Presbyterian, when the Trustees of Bryan Memorial University invited J. Gresham Machen to assume the Presidency in 1927. In declining their offer, Machen’s reasoning followed Charles Hodge. He acknowledged his “warmest sympathy” with “interdenominational efforts of various kinds” especially “with other evangelical churches.” And it was precisely because of that tie, not in spite of it, that he remained a confessional Presbyterian. “I think that I can best serve my fellow-Christians—even those who belong to ecclesiastical bodies different from my own—by continuing to be identified, very specifically, with the Presbyterian Church.” For Machen, like Hodge before, confessional identity enhanced his ecumenical vision. Together, they testify against the assumption that the choice for the OPC lies in either organizational union with other bodies or denominational chauvinism. Certainly no one could accuse either of them of being less than a Presbyterian churchman or isolated from the larger battles in Christendom.

Is the OPC, a century later, fulfilling the vision that Hodge laid before the Old School Presbyterian Church? Has the church found an alternative to the paths of assimilation and isolation? Or have the predictions of those who left the OPC come true? Surely it is too early to tell, but as the OPC continues to serve as a leader in shaping Reformed faith and witness for many small and emerging Reformed churches throughout the world, it is worth remembering that Charles Hodge could conceive of a vital ecumenical role for a confessionally precise church.

The point is not to suggest that a similarly catastrophic future would have confronted OPCers had they merged with the PCA. Rather, what is noteworthy in this comparison is that Hodge refused to concede that opposition to union relegated him to a position of sectarian isolationism.


D. G. Hart and John Muether are coauthors of Fighting the Good Fight, A Brief History of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. Both are OPC ruling elders: Mr. Hart at Calvary OPC, Glenside, PA and Mr. Muether at Lake Sherwood OPC in Orlando, Fl.