…it is not the duty of any listener, much less of the church as governing institution, to perform whatever adjustments are necessary to make a problematic teaching palatable. If someone’s teaching is so unclear or apparently wrong when left to itself that it has to undergo some manner of creative interpretation to be regarded as orthodox, then that person is, at a minimum, a poor communicator whose fitness for office ought to be questioned. Instead of regarding it as the duty of listeners to interpret an ambiguous or apparently heretical doctrine in such a way that it is regarded as orthodox, let the contrary be asserted, that the burden of making himself clear lies with the teacher….

The term judgment of charity is not found in Scripture, nor does it appear in the Presbyterian Church in America’s present Book of Church Order or in her versions of the Westminster Confession and Catechisms. Indeed, the term charity itself is seldom used in most contemporary translations of Scripture: the English Standard uses it only once, while the New American Standard and New King James use it three and zero times, respectively. In our confessions it appears primarily in the archaic scripture proofs, with a single exception (Larger Catechism Q. 171).

Given our society’s narrow view of charity, this is understandable. In common use charity is nearly synonymous with eleemosynary organization (e.g., ‘he gave $1,000 to a charity devoted to feeding the poor’), and as an action it consists of what was formerly called almsgiving. It has, as such, an indirect and impersonal character, its altruism being expressed through intermediate agencies. This is rather different from our notion of charity. In common parlance one gives money to (a) charity, whereas on our view one gives it or performs some other kindness because of charity, charity consisting of a benevolent disposition toward the neighbor that issues as diverse acts of kindness and mercy. The example of the Good Samaritan provides a helpful example of a personal and physical manifestation of charity, but the virtue has other manifestations as well, hence its application to questions of judgment is sound, provided we correctly understand what this entails.

Historically the term judgment of charity has been used in discussions of the infant offspring of believers, especially regarding their reception of baptism or of eternal life (in cases of premature death). The former sense is the only way in which Herman Bavinck uses it in his Reformed Dogmatics, and can be seen in statements such as this from B.B. Warfield:

If . . .  we say that [the church’s] attitude should be as inclusive as possible, and that it should receive as the children of Christ all whom, in the judgment of charity, it may fairly recognize as such, then we shall naturally widen the circle of the subjects of baptism to far more ample limits.

The term is sometimes used to refer to the election of other professing believers (comp. Calvin on 1 Cor. 1:9) or more generally to the desire to be fair in judgment. Hence Warfield also uses it to describe Luther’s early theses on indulgences and the pope, saying:

He persistently means by “indulgences,” “pardons,” not the indulgences which actually existed in the world in which he lived – which he held to be gross corruptions of the only real indulgences – but such indulgences as he was willing to admit to be valid, that is to say, relaxations of ecclesiastically imposed penances; and he repeatedly speaks so as to imply that it is these which the Pope really intends – or at least in the judgment of charity ought to be assumed really to intend – by all the indulgences which he commissions.

Warfield does not, however, approve this and says that Luther’s terms here are “somewhat artificial” and that “we must be wary” “lest we be misled” by them; i.e., Warfield regards Luther as being generous to a fault here.

In a recent judicial opinion[1] the judgment of charity is given as one reason why the Presbyterian Church in America’s (PCA) Standing Judicial Commission (SJC) was justified in upholding Missouri Presbytery’s refusal to indict Greg Johnson for doctrinal error. Quoting an earlier SJC opinion,[2] the author states:

Complainants hold that certain views expressed by [the minister who was not indicted], capable of a heterodox interpretation, must be so interpreted. But this violates the judgment of charity, that if a view can be interpreted in an orthodox fashion, it ought to be so interpreted until one is forced to do otherwise.

Complainants hold that certain of [the minister’s] views imply heterodox doctrines, and therefore impute those doctrines to [the minister]. But this is a non sequitur as well. One cannot properly impute implications that are drawn from a position to a person who expressly denies the implication. For example, a disciple of Gordon Clark believed that John Gerstner’s failure to embrace supralapsarianism implied Arminianism. He was free to so believe, but it was utterly unjust for him to say that Gerstner was an Arminian when Gerstner expressly denied it and spent his ministry upholding the sovereignty of grace in the Gospel.

Against this doubtful reasoning stand [the minister’s] express, specific, and unambiguous denials of heterodoxy and affirmations of orthodoxy. The only question, then, is with respect to [the minister’s] credibility.

I must confess that my intellect was so boggled by this statement that it was temporarily laid prostrate. First, if the plain meaning and force of the words that a suspected false teacher uses are such that they teach heterodoxy, then they “must be so interpreted.” That is simply how language works: words mean what they are commonly understood to mean, not what we earnestly desire them to mean. A suspect may have spoken rather by careless incompetence than by intentional deception, and there may be other mitigating factors that temper our response, both of which are important questions, but we do not do anyone a favor by pretending that someone said something other than what he actually did say.

Second, I suspect that with sufficient effort one can make many things sound more wholesome than they are – can make C.S. Lewis into an evangelical (which he wasn’t); can make the most deistic Founding Fathers seem pious; can make many Early Church Fathers sound more polished and systematic than they truly were – just as the 1941 Presbyterian Church could (and did) convince itself of Ernest Trice Thompson’s “essential orthodoxy” viz. his view of Scripture.

But such exercises in theological rehabilitation are inappropriate and miss the point, which is that it is not the duty of any listener, much less of the church as governing institution, to perform whatever adjustments are necessary to make a problematic teaching palatable. If someone’s teaching is so unclear or apparently wrong when left to itself that it has to undergo some manner of creative interpretation to be regarded as orthodox, then that person is, at a minimum, a poor communicator whose fitness for office ought to be questioned. Instead of regarding it as the duty of listeners to interpret an ambiguous or apparently heretical doctrine in such a way that it is regarded as orthodox, let the contrary be asserted, that the burden of making himself clear lies with the teacher, and that he should teach so that he makes himself clear from the first, not only when he is asked for clarification by judicial authorities.

To use the judgment of charity, as the honorable commissioner recommends, is to use a sound teaching in an unsound way. Its failure lies in its imbalance: it overemphasizes the charity element to the neglect of the judgmental element. Any sound theory of the judgment of charity must recognize that charity is not the only virtue that governs our consideration of error, and that it is embodied not over or against other virtues such as prudence and zeal for truth, but alongside them. We are commanded to be charitable and fair in judgment, yes, but we are also commanded to be “wise as serpents” (Matt. 10:16) and to exercise discernment and careful vigilance in defending against the cunning assaults of false teachers that come disguised as messengers of light (2 Cor. 11:13-14) and as wolves in sheep’s clothing (Matt. 7:15). Hence Calvin says in his commentary on 1 Cor. 13:7:

Love believeth all things — not that the Christian knowingly and willingly allows himself to be imposed upon — not that he divests himself of prudence and judgment, that he may be the more easily taken advantage of — not that he unlearns the way of distinguishing black from white. What then? He requires here, as I have already said, simplicity and kindness in judging of things; and he declares that these are the invariable accompaniments of love.

Properly conceived, charity in judgment means not accepting poor or false evidence (as mere hearsay), not speculating, not depriving the accused of his rights in defense, and other such things.

Let it also be remembered that to show favor to one person is often to disadvantage others. It may be kind to a suspected elder to allow him a pass; but if he is truly guilty it is not charitable to everyone else in the denomination. Now I do not say that the SJC ruled wrongly in either of the cases in question, nor do I make any comment on the propriety of the earlier opinion’s use as precedent in the latter case. But I do say that the reasoning entailed is, on this one point at least, disastrous. What is called here the judgment of charity is neither properly judicious nor properly charitable, but is something closer to a willful naïveté that, in its desire to be fair, gives the accused more than he is due.

Implications – or viewed from the standpoint of the subject, inferences – are sometimes legitimate and sometimes not. The question in such cases ought not to be whether the accused denies the implication: for if he were an incompetent reasoner, he would probably be inconsistent as well, in which case he may be expected to deny any erroneous implications; and if he were a liar who was on the cusp of condemnation, he would certainly deny the implication to save his skin. The question should rather be whether it is a fair and accurate understanding to maintain that the accused’s teaching implies a false doctrine.

The example listed furnishes this truth well. The injustice of the complaint does not hinge solely upon Gerstner’s express denial of the implication, for it would be an unjust claim even if it occurred after Gerstner’s death and he was unable to expressly deny the claim. Its injustice proceeds from the fact that Gerstner’s critic had a strange and inaccurate view of the matter in question, one that divided the different positions into only two camps in spite of the fact that almost all others make at least four divisions. Also relevant is that the question of the logical order of the decrees is but one small portion of the Arminian system; that said system is more frequently thought of in relation to its soteriological tenets; that Gerstner was deemed traditionally Reformed on the multitude of other doctrinal questions entailed in our system; that Supralapsarianism is not asserted in our confessions; and, above all, that our most responsible thinkers have long recognized this matter as being well outside the proper realm of theological inquiry.

Returning to the point, the question of whether a perceived implication is legitimate should not rest only upon the accused’s opinion, for such a method has two practical consequences. One, a false or inept teacher can imply nearly anything he wishes provided he denies the implication and keeps from slipping into explicit statements. Two, the only person who could ever be condemned, then, is the honest, consistent, and sincere heretic who does not dissemble his meaning or motives. The yet more dangerous type that disguises himself could never be condemned for error as long as he was careful in his words when investigated.

Now perhaps it will be objected that there is still ground for censure, provided only the evidence is sufficient to undermine the credibility of the accused. An observer might be forgiven for thinking that someone who says one thing when speaking candidly before a sympathetic audience and then presents a significantly different and notably more orthodox view when investigated and in risk of losing his livelihood has his credibility reduced rather than strengthened by the discrepancies in view, and that if this does not arouse the suspicion of the judicial authorities then the amount or standard of evidence that would be required would be very high indeed.

Tom Hervey is a member of Woodruff Road Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Simpsonville, S.C.

[1]  Concurring Opinion Case 2020-12: Complaint of TE Speck v. Missouri by RE Howie Donahoe

[2]  Case 2010-04: TE Sartorius et al. v. Siouxlands