The Rule of Men: The Basic Flaw in CREC Polity

It is a popular pastime among certain Reformed sectors and, on the other hand, “deconstructing” Christians to criticize the Communion of Reformed Evangelical Churches, and Douglas Wilson in particular. As a long time reader of Wilson, and attender of a flagship CREC church for some time, I have my own criticisms of Wilson and the CREC. But, as an attorney, there is a central flaw not with Wilson or with Crec pastors generally, but with the CREC’s political structure. This problem, furthermore, has gone largely unrecognized, because it arises out of the basic governing documents of the denomination which, if you aren’t a lawyer or enthusiastic about ecclesiastical politics, are not exactly stimulating to read.

That central problem—and I believe it is the problem behind a lot of the more obvious issues in the CREC—is that the denomination is fundamentally characterized by the rule of men and not the rule of law.

In secular governments and most ecclesiastical governments, the government itself is subject to laws over which it has only limited control, and which bind it. It is not typically within the discretion of a judge to simply set aside a state’s rules of criminal procedure or evidence for “the sake of efficiency.” Nor is it possible for a lower court to simply ignore the decision of a higher appellate court. The CREC, on the other hand, operates with the idea that rules are fundamentally an inhibitory factor that gets in the way of getting things done quickly. Many of the initial CREC churches also felt alienated from other denominations, which they felt took advantage of bureaucracy to stifle legitimate theological debate.

 In reacting to this problem, however, the CREC created a much worse one, by vesting power in unaccountable men, and enacting laws that have no binding force. This brief essay is an explanation of the nature of CREC governance that points out where these features arise, and why they are dangerous.

As a prefatory matter, I will note that I am not criticizing any particular CREC church or pastor. Frequently, criticism of the CREC is based on theological positions, or disciplinary actions. My criticism is more fundamental, and more specific than simply accusing the CREC of being “authoritarian” or “cultish.” I believe those adjectives are accurate, but they are not always helpful—individuals’ actions are always open to interpretation, and allegations of cultishness frequently rest on factual accounts that those inside the CREC would dispute. On the other hand, the flaws I point out are readily discernible from the CREC’s own governing documents; they do not require adopting a particular view on any individual CREC controversy, of which there are many.

To those considering joining the denomination, this essay serves as a word of caution; to those inside the CREC, my sincere hope is that you can read the below, which is based on what I believe to be a plain reading of foundational CREC documents, and carefully consider whether the sort of benevolent dictatorships the CREC Constitution gives rise to are truly wise in the long term.

Before examining the specific flaws in the CREC’s structure, it is necessary to define what constitutes a system governed by law. All healthy legal systems, whether they govern a nation or a church, possess certain indispensable characteristics. The most fundamental of these is the principle of supremacy of law, which means that a body of pre-existing, publicly known laws binds everyone, including the rulers themselves. Rulers do not have the discretion to set aside the law when it proves inconvenient.

A true legal system builds upon this foundation with two other essential components: mandatory procedures and a binding hierarchy. Procedural rules, such as rules of evidence or civil procedure are the mechanisms that guarantee due process and equal treatment, ensuring that every case and every person receives a fair and predictable hearing. Just as important is a clear hierarchy of authority. In such a system, lower courts or assemblies must submit to the legal rulings of higher courts. This structure of appellate review creates legal uniformity and provides a mechanism to correct errors, ensuring that the law is applied consistently across the entire jurisdiction. Together, these features create a government of law, not of men.

At the heart of the CREC’s departure from the rule of law lies the structure and authority of its regional bodies, known as presbyteries. In a conventional ecclesiastical system, a presbytery functions as a middle court, possessing genuine authority to legislate for and adjudicate disputes within its constituent churches. A presbytery can ordain and defrock ministers; conduct trials; provide for interim local church governance when a pastor is unavailable; and adjudicate disputes between churches, church members, or members of a session. Presbyteries in the CREC can do none of these things; instead, they function more like conventions or loose associations. At best, presbyteries may strongly recommend certain actions—but they have no ability to directly enforce their recommendations.

An initial examination of the CREC Constitution suggests that presbyteries are, in fact, governing bodies: a presbytery has the authority to, among other things, intervene when a local church session is at an impasse, censure or expel a member church, and evaluate men for ordination. Constitution, Art. IV.A.1, Art. IV.A.2.j, n, g. This list, however, is undermined by a more fundamental principle enshrined in the Constitution: the absolute primacy of the local congregation. Constitution, Art. III.A. The document explicitly states that the decisions of the broader assemblies are merely “spiritually authoritative.” Constitution, Art. IV.D.6. Should the elders of a local church choose to defy a presbytery’s instruction, the Constitution grants them the right to do so, stating “the congregation may do so without deprivation of property.” Id. (Of note is that the elders and the congregation are conflated, such that the actions of the elders simply are the actions of the congregations; this has its own problems.)

This single provision dismantles any notion of a rule of law. A law that can be ignored without consequence is not a law; it is advice. The presbytery’s rulings lack the essential element of legal authority, which is the power to compel obedience. In a system governed by law, a lower court cannot simply “disregard” the ruling of a higher court. But in the CREC, a local church session faces no material or legal penalty for such defiance. This transforms the relationship between the presbytery and the local church from a legal, hierarchical one into a purely voluntary and advisory one, where the presbytery’s authority extends only as far as the local church is willing to accept it.

Because its decisions are not binding, the presbytery’s only true enforcement mechanism is to remove a disobedient congregation from the denomination. Constitution, Art. IV.D.6; Art. V.7. This is no solution, especially if the presbytery finds that a session is acting in a systematically abusive way. It is the equivalent of simply showing the entire congregation the door and wishing them good luck—all the while their elders can simply go on as before, with not even the pretense of oversight. The presbytery cannot fine the church, remove its officers, or seize its assets. It can only expel it. This reality is inconsistent with the rule of law because it eliminates binding hierarchy. A local church always holds the ultimate trump card: it can reject any ruling it dislikes, and the most the presbytery can do is kick it out.

While the weakness of the presbytery’s authority demonstrates a structural flaw that undermines the rule of law, the CREC’s approach to procedural rules goes farther and enshrines a presumption against the rule of law. Legal systems rely on mandatory procedures to ensure fairness and predictability. The CREC, however, renders its own procedures entirely optional, creating a system where the rules can be discarded at will by a simple majority.

The CREC’s governing documents are unambiguous on this point. The Constitution declares that the broader assemblies “are informed by the Book of Procedures, but not bound to it.” Constitution, Art. IV.A.6.a. The mechanism for circumventing these rules is simple: “Should an assembly act in exception to the Book of Procedures, the exception must be acknowledged and explained in the minutes.” Id. The Book of Procedures itself reaffirms this, allowing for deviations for “good cause” with the approval of the assembly. Book of Procedures, Art. I. A law that can be nullified by the very body it is meant to restrain, through a simple vote and a brief notation, is not a law in any meaningful sense. It is a guideline, and a weak one at that.

This framework is arguably more dangerous than having no written procedures at all, because it creates the illusion of accountability where none exists. A church member facing a disciplinary action or bringing a complaint would naturally consult the Book of Procedures, which contains detailed articles on judicial proceedings. Book of Procedures, Art. X. This person would likely prepare their case believing these published rules provide a fair and predictable process. They would expect the rules for presenting evidence, calling witnesses, and filing petitions to be followed. They would expect to receive necessary discovery; to be able to cross examine adverse witnesses; to have a written report with findings issued by the court: all things that the Book of Procedures “requires” in a complaint or appeal proceeding.

That member, however, can have the rug pulled out from under them at any moment. The assembly or, as will be shown below, the presiding minister on his own, at the request of the opposing party or on its own initiative, can simply vote to set aside any procedure it finds inconvenient. The established process for a hearing can be altered mid-stream, deadlines can be waived for one party but not another, and rules of evidence can be ignored to suit the majority’s preference. The party with the most sway in the assembly can more easily secure a procedural “exception” that benefits their case.

With the broader assemblies stripped of binding authority and their procedures rendered optional, the CREC’s system concentrates immense and unchecked power into a single office: the Presiding Minister. This role, ostensibly a moderator and administrator, is transformed by the Constitution into a supreme executive who embodies the presbytery between meetings and wields vast discretionary authority. The Constitution grants the Presiding Minister the extraordinary power to act as the entire assembly between its formal meetings. It specifies that he “represents the broader assembly by initiating and taking prudent steps in furtherance of an action, which he must report to the broader assembly for ratification.” Constitution, Art. IV.C.9.a. This provision effectively makes him a unilateral executive. He does not require prior approval for his actions; he acts first and seeks ratification later. Because the broader assembly is not bound by its own Book of Procedures, the Presiding Minister, acting as the assembly, is also not bound. He alone determines what constitutes a “prudent step,” free from any mandatory procedural constraints that would otherwise ensure a fair and predictable process.

This authority is most acutely felt in the judicial process, where the Presiding Minister acts as the ultimate gatekeeper of justice. He has the sole discretion to accept or deny referrals and appeals. Constitution, Art. IV.D.3; Art. IV.D.4.c. He can refuse to hear an appeal based on the subjective determination that an appellant has “overtly discredited himself in his manner of bringing the appeal”, or  that the appeal is “frivolous”—a word that, in a legal context, has a very specific meaning, but is not defined at all in the CREC Constitution. Constitution, Art. IV.D.4.c. In a system governed by law, such a finding would follow a formal hearing based on established rules. In the CREC, it is a personal judgment call. The Presiding Minister even possesses the authority to censure a church or another officer, requiring only the approval of two other Presiding Ministers—a decision made by a small cadre of executives, not a judicial body or the full assembly. Constitution, Art. IV.C.9.c.

For the individual church member, this concentration of power leaves no path for recourse. If the Presiding Minister refuses to hear an appeal, that decision is final. There is no process for an individual to appeal the Presiding Minister’s discretionary choice, except to another presiding minister, who can always simply defer to the first decision. The member’s only hope is that the full assembly, at its next meeting, will vote not to ratify the Presiding Minister’s report—a remote possibility and a process that offers no immediate remedy to the aggrieved person. The system lacks the essential checks and balances that define the rule of law, replacing them with a trust in the personal discretion of one man.

At the denominational level, the CREC’s structure replaces the objective, impartial rule of law with a subjective, relational rule of men. This encourages authoritarianism by making personal allegiance the primary currency of power, by creating a chilling effect that stifles dissent, and by providing a model of governance that can have downstream effects in the local churches.

First, a system that replaces law with discretion tends to prioritize personal loyalty over legal principle. In a system governed by law, a person’s case rests on the merits of their argument and the facts as they align with established statutes and precedents. In the CREC, however, a case’s success often depends on one’s standing with the Presiding Minister and other influential leaders. The Constitution itself empowers the Presiding Minister to deny an appeal if he believes the appellant has “overtly discredited himself.” Constitution, Art. IV.D.4.c. This is not a legal standard but a personal, subjective judgment about character and decorum; a PM could simply dismiss an appeal on the rationale that it contained “obvious slander,” was “contumacious”, was “not brought in a spirit of Christian love,” or any of innumerable vague, unchallengeable judgments. This creates an environment where potential litigants must first consider not the strength of their case, but their relationship with the authorities. This dynamic fosters an “in-group” and an “out-group,” where those who are loyal, supportive, and well-regarded by the leadership receive favorable discretionary treatment. Those who are perceived as critical or troublesome, however, find their appeals dismissed and procedural exceptions working against them.

Second, this concentration of unchecked discretion creates a powerful chilling effect on legitimate dissent and accountability. A pastor or church member contemplating a complaint against a powerful church or an action by the Presiding Minister himself faces an overwhelming institutional disadvantage. They know the Presiding Minister can refuse to hear their case on subjective grounds. They know he has the authority to appoint the very court that will hear the matter. Constitution, Art. IV.D.1.a. And they know that the procedural rules they might rely on for protection can be set aside by a simple majority vote. Constitution, Art. IV.A.6.a. Confronted with these realities, many will conclude that speaking up is futile and potentially career-ending. Raising a challenge risks being branded a malcontent, which can lead to marginalization within the denomination. This is how authoritarian systems maintain control. They do not need to formally outlaw dissent; they simply need to make the process of dissent so arbitrary, risky, and stacked in favor of the authorities that most people will choose silence. The system systematically weeds out those willing to challenge the status quo, ensuring that power remains consolidated among those who benefit from it.

Finally, the authoritarian model at the denominational level provides the template for governance in the local churches. Pastors and elders observe how the presbytery and Council operate, and they learn by example. They see Presiding Ministers acting unilaterally, procedural rules being waived for convenience, and challenges to authority being dismissed through personal judgment rather than legal process. This teaches a potent lesson: that this is an acceptable, even laudable, form of Christian leadership. This model is then imported into the governance of local congregations. A local church session, inspired by the denomination’s example, may feel justified in ignoring its own constitution or bylaws to discipline a member or push through a controversial budget. They learn that the formal rules are secondary to the session’s "prudent" and "pastoral" discretion. Since the appellate process is itself controlled by the same discretionary logic, aggrieved members of that local church have no meaningful recourse, which further emboldens authoritarian tendencies at the local level. The result is a self-reinforcing culture of top-down rule, modeled by the denomination and perfected in the pews.

This sort of extralegal authority is exemplified in constitutions of local CREC churches. The Constitution of All Saints Church, a prominent CREC congregation, serves as an example of the kind of authoritarianism that the CREC can give rise to. It establishes a church government where the ruling body, the Session, is insulated from congregational accountability and possesses total discretion over the transparency of its judicial processes.

The most obvious example of this unaccountable structure is the process for removing an elder from office. In any system with meaningful checks and balances, the congregation retains some power to remove the leaders who have wronged them. At All Saints, however, the congregation has no such power. If members bring charges against a ruling elder, those charges are presented directly to the Session. All Saints Church Constitution at 6. The Session then—excluding the accused—investigates its own member and decides if “the question merits an investigation and/or hearing.” Id. If the charges are ultimately sustained by a unanimous vote of the other elders, the Session itself, “depending on the gravity of the charges and his response to correction,” may remove the elder from office. Id. The congregation is relegated to the role of a passive audience. It has no vote, no veto, and no formal role whatsoever in the removal of an elder, who can only be judged and removed by his peers on the Session. Not only that, but if the session has even one member that is loyal to the accused, he simply will not be removed; a single man can prevent an entire church from holding a pastor or elder accountable, and there is nothing that can be done about it, either at the local or presbyterial level.

This lack of accountability is compounded by the Session’s absolute control over the transparency of its disciplinary actions. The All Saints Constitution stipulates that in any discipline case, “Based on the nature of the discipline case, Session may conduct the hearing privately or publicly.” All Saints Church Constitution at 6. This is a critical provision that grants the Session the power to shield its actions from public view whenever it deems necessary. If a discipline case is embarrassing to the Session, involves an influential family, or threatens the church’s reputation, the elders can simply decide to handle the entire matter behind closed doors. This prevents the congregation from hearing the evidence, evaluating the testimony, and knowing whether justice was truly served. This practice directly contradicts the principle of open justice that undergirds the rule of law and allows for discipline to be wielded as a private weapon rather than a public, restorative process.

The criticisms leveled in this essay are not born from interpretations of individual actions or personal anecdotes. They arise from a plain reading of the CREC’s own governing documents. The Constitution’s explicit declaration that presbytery authority is merely “spiritually authoritative” and that its procedures are non-binding are not matters of interpretation; they are textual facts. CREC Constitution, Art. IV.D.6; Art. IV.A.6.a. The All Saints Church Constitution’s restrictions on removing elders and provisions for private disciplinary hearings are in its foundational charter. All Saints Church Constitution at 6, 3. The problem, therefore, is not with rogue actors violating a good system. The problem is the system itself, which is designed from the ground up to favor discretionary power over legal restraint.

This preference for the rule of men—even good and godly men—is profoundly dangerous. History, both secular and ecclesiastical, teaches that unchecked power is a corrosive force. The assumption that benevolent leaders will always act wisely and justly is a gamble against the consistent witness of human fallibility. Good men have blind spots, they favor their friends, and they are tempted to take shortcuts. A system of law exists precisely to protect the community from these inevitable human failings. It provides objective standards that transcend personal relationships and predictable procedures that ensure fairness even in the face of disagreement. By jettisoning these safeguards in favor of trusting the "prudent steps" of its leaders, the CREC leaves its members vulnerable, with their rights and standing subject to the subjective will of those in power. CREC Constitution, Art. IV.C.9.a.

A benevolent dictatorship may seem efficient and even desirable so long as the dictator is truly benevolent and no serious crises arise. In times of peace and unity, when the leadership is wise and universally respected, a system lacking formal checks and balances can function smoothly. But this apparent stability is an illusion, for the structure is brittle. When a genuine controversy erupts—a major doctrinal dispute, a financial scandal, or charges of abuse—the system is designed to fail. Without binding laws or mandatory procedures, there is no neutral ground for resolving the conflict. It devolves into a raw power struggle, a battle of loyalties where the outcome is determined not by justice, but by who has the most influence.

Furthermore, the system is dangerously unstable across generations. Its health is entirely dependent on the personal character of its current leaders. When a new, less competent, or less virtuous generation of Presiding Ministers and pastors takes control, the lack of institutional guardrails becomes catastrophic. The very structures that were supposed to enable "prudent action" become the tools of arbitrary and unaccountable rule. A system of governance must be judged not by how it performs under ideal conditions, but by its resilience in the face of crisis and its ability to constrain the worst impulses of its leaders. On this count, the CREC’s framework, by its very design, ensures that when things go wrong, they will not be handled responsibly.