Of Streams and Rivers and the ARP - Nick Napier

 “It’s Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church. Or you could say, ‘Boyce Memorial ARP church.'”

“Excuse me? I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

“When you gave the welcome this morning you said welcome to Boyce Memorial Presbyterian church. We’re not just a Presbyterian church. We’re ARP.” 

I was newly pastor to that sweet fellowship, and newly ARP. Those words, at the time, struck me as odd, but now (after having left and returned again to the Associate Reformed Presbyterian church) as a blessed picture of the nature of the ARP. We are different. We have our own great history, and own blessed ethos. We are not a picture nor product of the American Presbyterian system, but a harkening back to the “old land” Presbyterians. We have over 200 years of history and ethos, and of this, we should hold fast and be rooted in them. History and ethos. Ethos and history.

I have elsewhere written concerning my delight in returning to the Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church (ARP). That delight has not yet been tempered nor hindered by anything I have found upon my return. The ARP is as I had left it, yet changed since my departure and return. There have been some losses, some gains, some church plants, some church closures, some changes in the ecclesiastical verbiage of our governing documents, but all the while she remains the same. Same desire to carry the gospel to the nations and offer Christ freely. Same desire and need to plant churches and mission works. Same history. Same ethos. 

In the ethos of this body there is an ever-sameness; the sameness and yet change of an ancient river. A sameness built upon legacy and memory and memories of memories we’ve not had ourselves—but memories we have been told and have had passed down to us and pass down to the next generation. We grow in the richness of tradition and advance upon that tradition through the fruitful soil of knowing ourself and knowing our memories. Knowing our history. Knowing our ethos.

I belabor this point because we live in a day of ever-changing and even turbulent ecclesiastical streams and rivers—streams that flow and cut through the land, making their mark and defining the landscape; streams that overflow their banks and affect other streams and mar the course in which they were flowing and making them into the likeness of their past stream. There are many bodies that are near enough to the ARP, but yet have a different current and course. Some of those ecclesiastical rivers are nearing a fork or overflow—where one side might branch off and seek to cut a different course than their past headwaters; or to move on and to carve out a path and change the landscape of their next ecclesiastical stream.

The river of the ARP is nearing its tricentennial flow; ancient in comparison to other North American streams. She has remained distinct from the other flowing streams of Presbyterianism in America, never merging into their streams but staying in her banks and carving her course. The conservative streams of Westminsterian Presbyterianism which flow in the U.S. (excepting the ARP and our nearest kin the RPCNA) have mostly been those that branched from dying theologically (not necessarily numerically at the time of their departures) and have only been cutting their way for less than a century. These streams have been fighting to find their way and come into their own distinctives and make their mark on the ecclesiastical landscape by carving out their banks. These branches differ from the ARP in their view of offices, the nature of the General Synod (Assembly) of the church, and the nature of authority within Presbyterianism. These other streams hold variously: 2 1/2 offices, delegated assemblies, or consider themselves grassroots Presbyterians. These are considerably different streams than which flow through and out of the ARP. 

Thinking on the course and flow of these bodies, my counsel to the ARP (as one who briefly swam in other, more turbulent streams) is hold fast to your course. You have cut a beautiful swath throughout our ecclesiastical landscape—one of faithfulness, history, and grace. Are there places that need to flow differently? Sure. Are there possibly stagnant places? Maybe. But all in all, with our history and ethos, we are in a steady place—a place poised to flow in beauty and strength, not tumult and overflow. We are poised to continue in beauty of an ancient ecclesiastical river that has made its mark and will continue to make its mark, while remaining largely unchanged in course, because of our deep and ancient cuts in the landscape.

My counsel to those in other ecclesiastical streams, particularly those born on the soil of North America, if you decide the stream in which you find yourself is unfit for carrying on, drying up theologically, and you decide to change streams and come to the river that is the ARP—we joyfully and wholeheartedly welcome you and your contributions and love for Christ and His Kingdom, but please do not attempt to join the ARP in order to change the river that is the ARP and make her like your past streams. Instead immerse yourself in it. Learn her cuts throughout the landscape, and love them. Learn the history that has allowed it to carve such an ancient path and love it. Many American Presbyterian streams are new compared with the over 200 years of history of the ARP river. Many have a different course and history and ethos. If you come to the ARP, become part of the ARP. Do not try to change her direction or flow, but take on her history and ethos, and love her. 

She is the ARP, not something else. She swam the Atlantic, and has no desire to swim the Potomac.