Every Christian has likely faced the uncomfortable tension of a church disagreement. Sometimes it feels like the pastor is a solo pilot making every decision, and other times it feels like the congregation is a chaotic town hall meeting where the loudest voice wins. This creates a relatable curiosity about how the house of God is actually supposed to be managed. Is it a dictatorship, a direct democracy, or something else entirely? In the classic work, The Government of the Church of Scotland, George Gillespie provides a meticulous map for navigating these waters. Writing from the heat of the seventeenth-century Reformation, Gillespie argues that the church is not a place for arbitrary human rules but a spiritual republic governed by clear, biblical laws.
Rejecting the “Lay” Label as a Distant Memory
One of the most impactful arguments Gillespie presents is a challenge to the way people categorize church members. Many today use the term “lay elder” to describe those who are not vocational pastors. Gillespie flatly rejects this terminology, labeling the sharp divide between “clergy” and “laity” as a product of popery and antichristian doctrine. He points out that this distinction historically led to the holy people of God being despised as if they were unclean compared to their ministers.
By returning to biblical language, Gillespie identifies these officers simply as ruling elders. He argues that the title of “clergy”—meaning the Lord’s inheritance—actually belongs to the entire church, not just those in the pulpit. This perspective is vital because it restores dignity to the ruling office, showing that these men are not merely “helpers” to the pastor but are spiritual officers appointed by God with a distinct and necessary calling.
“The name clergy, when exclusively applied to ministers, is filled with pride and vanity. It has led to the holy people of God being despised, as if they were profane or unclean in comparison to their ministers.”
The Church as a Specialized Representative Body
Gillespie clarifies a common confusion regarding who exactly holds the power in a local congregation. He addresses the idea of “popular government,” where every single member has an equal vote on every jurisdictional matter. He argues that this leads to monstrous confusion because the majority of a congregation may not be trained to examine complex doctrine or expose subtle heresies. Instead, Gillespie posits that while the power of the church belongs to the whole body in principle, the exercise of that power belongs to the eldership that represents it.
This is a profound insight for the modern reader. It suggests that the church functions much like a republic. Just as a state might act through a senate, the church hears and acts through its elders, who are the “eyes” of the body. This structure protects the congregation from the instability of a mob while ensuring that the government remains rooted in the people they represent.
“Just as we say the body sees when it is actually the eyes that see, so too the church hears when those who govern it—the eyes of the church—hear a matter.”
The Vital Distinction Between Personal Order and Collective Jurisdiction
Another surprising takeaway is Gillespie’s breakdown of “Order” versus “Jurisdiction.” He explains that there are things a minister does by virtue of his own ordination, such as preaching, administering sacraments, and visiting the sick. This is the Power of Order. However, there are other actions that no man—not even a pastor—can perform alone. Matters like excommunication, ordaining new officers, or making ecclesiastical laws require a “consessus” or a gathering of many.
This is the Power of Jurisdiction. Gillespie maintains that this authority belongs to many gathered together in the name of Christ. This check and balance system is essential because it prevents the tyranny of a single prelate. It ensures that the most weighty spiritual decisions are made through collective wisdom and official agreement rather than the whim of a single leader.
“We boldly maintain that no part of ecclesiastical jurisdiction belongs to one man alone, but rather to many gathered together in the name of Christ.”
The Logic of Nested Courts and Geometrical Proportion
Gillespie provides a compelling defense for why local churches should be connected to larger assemblies, such as presbyteries and synods. He uses the concept of “geometrical proportion” to explain that if one man is subject to his local eldership, then it follows by the same logic that a local eldership should be subject to a provincial or national assembly. This is not about creating a heavy-handed hierarchy but about ensuring there is a remedy for grievances.
If a local eldership errs or becomes divided, a higher court is necessary to provide an impartial judgment. Gillespie argues that without this subordination of courts, controversies would be impossible to resolve, and an apostate congregation would have no one to reclaim it. This system of nested courts ensures that the unity of the whole national church is preserved through a shared staff of discipline and law.
“A common cause ought to be concluded by common voices. … As the proportion of three to nine, so is the proportion of nine to twenty-seven, of twenty-seven to eighty-one, and so on.”
Conclusion
Gillespie’s The Government of the Church of Scotland is far more than a technical manual; it is a defense of Christian liberty through the medium of biblical order. By grounding the government of the church in the representative office of the elder and the collective wisdom of assemblies, he offers a vision of a church that is both stable and accountable. The reader should seek out this book to understand that church order is not a matter of human preference, but a divine gift designed to protect the flock from both the chaos of the crowd and the pride of the individual.