I need men who unabashedly profess the whole doctrine of God, all of Scripture, who are not ashamed of its direct language. I need pastors who exegete these difficult and sometimes uncomfortable passages, who explain the entirety of God’s Word plainly to me and to my children without embarrassment. I need in my pastors’ examples of personal piety; men who do not shy away from words like purity or are bashful about devoutness. I need pastors who pursue holiness, not charisma. In short, I desperately need Jesus.

A few weeks ago, I sat propped up in bed with an embarrassing number of pillows, Tums^® bottle in hand, feeling unfathomably huge and wretchedly pregnant. While scrolling through social media in order to distract myself from my own uncomfortable enormity, I stumbled upon an open letter anonymously written by a group of Presbyterian Church in America (PCA) elders self-described as those “who minister where the sin and sadness of a fallen world intersects with the good news of the gospel” to another group of men who were apparently needlessly concerned, “divisive,” and engaged in scaremongering and spreading misinformation in the form of “alarming reports” within the PCA. I read the letter twice. I was suddenly filled with such great inertia that I whipped my large self around to my poor husband, brandishing said Tums^® bottle and violently scattering pillows and exclaimed, “Have you read this?!” The poor man was unfortunately too late to feign sleep.

What struck me the most in that letter was the “nothing to see here” approach to a serious theological concern amongst earnest and godly men in our denomination. The infamous Revoice debacle of 2018 and the intense debate following have largely been over the incompatibility of Side B Gay Christianity as a biblical, born-again Christian identity. Can a believer, a new creation in Christ, continue to identify himself as a gay-Christian? Furthermore, is he ordainable to the office of teaching or ruling elder? Even if he is celibate, even if he never “acts on” those inward desires, should that be his identity? Are those inward desires inherently sinful? Are we not discounting the work of Holy Spirit to work and to act in this man’s life? Are we content to allow our sanctification to purify us in some arenas of sin, but not others? Are we not then cheapening the blood of Jesus poured out in order to cleanse us from all unrighteousness?

These are hard questions which are worth careful attention. These are issues of the upmost importance; they are not “extreme examples.” Men who debate these matters are not engaged in “petty feuding.” The repetitious calls to unity and love do not fall on deaf ears, but how are we to be unified if one side mischaracterizes the concerns of the other? After reading this open letter, and the next letter a few weeks later by a handful of former moderators, I was greatly vexed by the seeming refusal to even acknowledge the legitimacy of my concerns, the concerns of my husband, my pastors, and my fellow congregation members. I felt akin to Cindy Lou Who, who having been patronizingly patted on the head by the Grinch and sent to bed with her cup, is persuaded to remain sleeping while the Grinch raids her household of all prized possessions and Christmas cheer.

To my brothers who authored these two letters:

I do not presume to know your original intentions in authoring these letters, nor do I desire to impugn your character. The benefit of the doubt is yours, and I hope that your intentions were purely out of a genuine desire to keep a denomination from fracturing. Believe it or not, that is our desire, too. I am not sure if your omission of Side B Gay Christianity was due to naïveté, but in any case, the assertion that men who share my concerns are spreading rumors that progressives in our denomination are plotting to ordain practicing homosexuals is a straw man argument. I have never heard or read this assertion from any RE or TE anywhere. Let us be honest here, gentlemen: it was a bit of a cheap shot.

Former moderators of the PCA, please do not liken our concern for biblical fidelity in these grave matters of sexual ethics to “burnt popcorn.” You should know better than anyone the necessity and importance of the work done in the courts of the church. Unity for unity’s sake is fruitless. Unity at the cost of purity is foolish. You called men to unity but failed to give a solution as to how that might be accomplished, except by merely advising them not to worry: “It’s fine, we’re fine, everything’s fine!” You would be wise to not pooh-pooh rational argumentation as alarmist, or describe all who do not share your opinions as divisive. It is not charitable, nor does it encourage the men you address to listen to any further advice you might offer down the road. No stranger to controversy, in the opening pages of Christianity and Liberalism, J. Gresham Machen wisely states:

“The type of religion which rejoices in the pious sound of traditional phrases, regardless of their meanings, or shrinks from “controversial” matters, will never stand amid the shocks of life. In the sphere of religion, as in other spheres, the things about which men are agreed are apt to be the things that are least worth holding; the really important things are the things about which men will fight … Indifferentism about doctrine makes no heroes of the faith.”

By what standard shall we then be unified? Love for the brethren? Yes, of course, but it is not that simple. I think you know this. We cannot merely love our way to unity, unless you are suggesting that your views and direction for the PCA are loving, but ours are not? And we should be loving and kind and unified…because questioning you is divisive, but rolling over is playing nice? Is it loving to be apathetic about another ordained man’s errant theological views; views that he will inevitably teach and pass onto every congregation he serves? We cannot both love our brothers and allow them to live in sin. Love for the brethren does not mean avoiding all fierce theological debate over important issues of God-honoring lifestyles. G.K. Chesterton is helpful here: “The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.” Some of the most heated discussions in my marriage have been because I love my spouse, and it should bother me if I think he is in error. If I did not love him, I would be apt to let matters slide. Clarity brings unity. Truth breeds comradery. You do not send a group of 6-year-olds out to the playground to play dodgeball without very specific rules. And even then, heated debates between Johnny and Timmy will still arise over whether shoelaces count as a hit. We must be united in love for each other. We must also be united in truth. Ephesians 4:11-15 gives us some answers:

“And he gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children, tossed to and fro by the waves and carried about by every wind of doctrine, by human cunning, by craftiness in deceitful schemes. Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ.”

Unity in the body of Christ is rooted in the faith and knowledge of Jesus. Your job as shepherds and teachers is to equip the saints, to build up the body of Christ, to grow your people in maturity, so that they might attain unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God. And unity is important, not just for the sake of pleasantness, but so that the church does not get tossed about by every new cultural storm. Our doctrines of the faith must be well-grounded, authoritative, cogent, and unshakeable. As always, Matthew Henry’s thoughts on this passage are edifying:

“Children are easily imposed upon. We must take care of this, and of being tossed to and fro, like ships without ballast, and carried about, like clouds in the air, with such doctrines as have no truth nor solidity in them, but nevertheless spread themselves far and wide, and are therefore compared to wind… Love is an excellent thing; but we must be careful to preserve truth together with it. Truth is an excellent thing; yet it is requisite that we speak it in love, and not in contention. These two should go together—truth and peace.”

Yes, brothers, the world is watching, but so are those in your congregations. You have not been ordained to placate the goats. Jesus has called you to feed His sheep. I humbly and joyfully exhort you as your sister in Christ to lead them to safe pastures of truth and righteousness, not beside the wolf-laden forests of studied ambiguity. As ambassadors of Christ, do not nuance your way out of speaking clear truth. Do not rip the teeth out of every doctrinal statement with carefully shellacked rhetoric and polished delivery. Speaking honestly to our culture about biblical sexuality is not the same as hanging a “Do not enter” sign on your church. Trust the work of the Holy Spirit to bring all those who He has called through your church doors. Do not trust in the persuasive power of your own words. Do not spin Scripture or dilute biblical warnings to make Jesus seem more palatable. If many of Jesus’ followers left Him over His hard sayings, then many people will also leave you, or be unwilling to listen in the first place. You are not special. But for the few that remain, like Peter, we desperately cry out, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life!” (John 6:68) Gentlemen, do not allow the words of life to die the death of a thousand qualifications.

To my brothers to whom these letters were written:

I am a nobody. I have never been published, earned a master’s degree, written any theological tome, or been interviewed on even the most obscure podcast. I am not employed in any exciting ministry capacity. My husband is relatively unknown. I am a stay-at-home mother to 3- and 5-year-old boys and a little girl who is due to arrive in July. I have a hard time keeping up with all the latest controversies and blog posts and overtures. I usually have enough time to read a little at night after I put the kids to bed and finish up the household chores, but I rarely have enough energy to respond intelligently. Usually, articles which concern me receive an eyeroll and a grunt before I pass out. Occasionally I share a few, but that is the extent of my online presence.

I say this because I am not the sort of person you regularly hear from. I am a young(ish) mom, balancing kids, potty training, and running back and forth between the sanctuary and the nursery. I normally do not have a lot of input. But I read both open letters, and pastor, I felt discouraged for you. You were dismissed as abrasive for questioning reasonable matters. You were made to feel as if you were part of fledgling minority, a member of the extreme right, lumped in with every cantankerous old relic imaginable. I tried to put myself in your shoes, and if I were in your position, I would look out at my congregation frequently and wonder if I really was the only one concerned about all these things: if my labor and work at a presbytery level really mattered, if anyone in my congregation cared about such matters or just absentmindedly went on with their lives? And so, I’m writing to you with a resounding: “Yes, we do care!” We may not have the time to be engaged publicly with every matter, but we share your concerns. We appreciate your faithful attendance and work in your local presbytery, and we know and value the importance of you and men like you who take the time to patiently inform us of the happenings within our denomination, in addition to the wise commentary you offer in the process. Thank you. Thank you so very much

Your leadership allows me the time to carry out my own responsibilities. I have been tasked with raising children in the fear and admonition of the Lord, which Charles Spurgeon famously said is as much serving God as if I had been called to lead an army into battle for the Lord of hosts. My children stand before a monstrous tidal wave of cultural evils. Some pastors seem content to offer them water wings. I know the Christian life is not full of butterflies and sparkly unicorns. People within our churches are not always peaches either. Like my other sisters in the trenches, I need substantial and considerable ammunition against the devil’s snares. I need companionship and support as I attempt to raise godly children. I need my elders for biblical encouragement and sure footing as I navigate this precarious responsibility of parenting. I do not care what you feel, or how I feel, or about feelings in general. I care what you think. I need to know what you believe. I need clarity. I need conviction. I need truth. My children need solid doctrine to weather the ever-changing landscape of spiritual warfare. Do not send us to do battle with pea shooters. I want a cannon.

I need men who unabashedly profess the whole doctrine of God, all of Scripture, who are not ashamed of its direct language. I need pastors who exegete these difficult and sometimes uncomfortable passages, who explain the entirety of God’s Word plainly to me and to my children without embarrassment. I need in my pastors’ examples of personal piety; men who do not shy away from words like purity or are bashful about devoutness. I need pastors who pursue holiness, not charisma. In short, I desperately need Jesus.

Brothers, please, give me Jesus.

Give me the whole Jesus, with all of His hard sayings and His dire warnings against even the most minutiae of sin. Do not offer me half a Savior, an incomplete version of my Lord which only exalts His love, tenderness, and patience while withholding His righteous anger and harsh judgments against false teachers. Do not weed out the parts of my Redeemer that, dare I say, some might view as intemperate.

Fathers and brothers, be wise and prudent statesmen this week in addition to faithful churchmen. Speak the truth in love, in all sincerity, and with great courage. Avoid acerbic and cynical conversation; let the words of your mouth and the meditations of your heart be pleasing to God. Be a fragrant aroma of Christ to the saints around you. Ignore petulant and emotive controversy. Do not impugn the character of men with whom you disagree. Be winsome, yet firm. Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. Listen and weigh debate carefully. Vote confidently. And if I can quote my favorite dead Baptist again (everyone needs one), take these words of Ol’ Spurge to heart: “If any man thinks ill of you, do not be angry with him. For you are worse than he thinks you to be.”

Faithful pastor, I may not know you, but I love you dearly. And I am praying for you this week. You may be a nobody like me, plodding along in obscurity in a small congregation with more problems than people. You may be weary of doing good. You may be just plain weary. But your people are spiritually nourished by your ministry. You speak the words of life to sometimes blank stares and sleepy faces, but you still do it. You serve an oftentimes stiff-necked people with humility and graciousness. You feed your sheep. You may have a flourishing congregation, and you may have an Isaiah ministry. But I promise you there are many like me in your care who benefit immensely from your dutiful shepherding. You are an indescribable encouragement to us. May we all aspire to be more of an encouragement to you. God bless you.

Your sister in Christ Jesus,
Sarah Morris

Sarah lives in Roanoke, Virginia with her husband, her two (soon to be three) children, and her completely pathetic dog. She is a member of Westminster PCA.