Dispatch from San Miguel CRC, Sunday, April 10, 10 am

Dispatch from the San Miguel CRC: Sunday, April 10, 10 a.m.

Having already attended 6 a. m. Mass, at a decadent 9:30 we made our way over to the local CRC in nearby san Miguel. (The CRC in the Philippines is an independent denomination still supported by the CRCNA. Our missionaries here function mainly as teachers and trainers for Philippino personnel.)
The congregation met in a small (single stall garage size) building with bars over window openings, and numbered about 25 people of all ages. When we arrived for the 10:30 a.m. worship service there was a class meeting that continued for another 20 minutes. The Pastor/elder, who had rushed to the entrance on our arrival, pointed us to our seats, politely greeted us, and briefly introduced us to the gathering, politely greeted us. At first it seemed that we were, understandably, perceived as “inspectors” from North America, and the pastor launched into a long explanation of the teaching that was going on, until I told him that we would be pleased if they just continued as before.
A young woman (20 or 21 years old) was teaching from a book called “Reformed Worship,” while the pastor wandered from back to front, sometimes interrupting her to make a point clear. Once, in fact, he corrected her use of “men” to “humans.” (This was all done almost exclusively in English.)
The class was on Reformed worship, and the main point of the teaching focused what some Presbyterians call the “regulative principle” in worship, which means that anything God does not expressly command in worship in the Bible is forbidden, a rather narrow view of public worship, and one more in use by conservative British and American Presbyterians than in the European Reformed tradition. What amazed us was that this was being taught in a rather sophisticated manner to a congregation that seemed to consist of mainly of people of limited education. The pastor was sharp, and obviously had the “regulative principle” down pat, though I’m not sure he understood the nuances or ramifications of his teaching. It was rather like the mode of teaching I grew up with in the CRC when Berkhof’s “Systematic Theology” was the norm, and learning its contents and structure was the center of theological education.
As the sign outside made clear, this was not a Bible study class, it was theological study, and they were out to teach people what it meant to be Reformed. Once in a while a question would asked by a congregation member, often quoting the Bible, with which they were obviously familiar, with some honest pride. Big theological terms were tossed out by the teachers, sometimes with their Greek and even Hebrew background. I wonder how many North American Reformed Christians would hold up in such a class, but then, I’m not sure exactly how much of this was getting across to the class members either.
It was obvious that they were seeking to maintain their identity against two great opposite “enemies,” if that’s not too strong a word—the Pentecostals and the Roman Catholics, who were far more numerous, judging from the churches and signs as we traveled about. (Our driver that morning had almost insisted on dropping us off at the huge open-air Pentecostal gathering, and seemed to know nothing of the small CRC church nearby.) The Pentecostals were characterized as those who, instead of following the regulative principle, followed their feelings and tried to please the people rather than God (“man pleasers” as one congregation quoted from the Bible). Of particular interest was the music and lyrics of Pentecostal songs. The lyrics were acknowledged as semi biblical, but the “band” music was badly infected with a worldly rhythm in which there was much hip swaying and “breast shaking.” The Roman Catholics, who on the other hand seemed less a direct threat, were idolaters, Mary worshippers, traditionalists, and ritualists. Against all these the Reformed stood alone in truly seeking to honor God alone by their biblical worship.
The class ended, and the group moved directly into worship, led by a layman of the church who was called the “liturgist,” a term I did not expect. The service began rather abruptly with a reading of the Ten Commandments, followed by the Apostle’s Creed sung in a march-like cadence (no swinging anything here). Then the “Glory be to the Father…” to an almost dirge-like melody. The liturgist quickly gave way to the Pastor/elder who led in prayer. There was no general welcome, no hymns, no confession, and no acknowledgment of guests even beyond us. In fact, I don’t think any had joined the congregation for worship who had not been there for the “theology study”. Obviously the main event here was preaching, as the pastor focused on a text from the end of Luke 24 where Jesus appears to the disciples to show them his hands and feet, revealing he’s not a ghost, but the risen Lord. He gave us the outline he was going to follow, and then followed it, often with great fervor and solemnity, a few growling shouts (I never saw him smile in the class or the service). He seldom touched directly on people’s lives, sticking mainly to the theological points of the text.
We had to leave before the service was over since it had started about a half hour late, which we might have anticipated expect that monastic life is nothing if not timely. We left a note for the pastor, along with an offering, with the man next to us, whispering that we had to make it back for lunch and the pastor could contact us at the monastery if he wished. It would be interesting to know the effect this news might have on the pastor, but we haven’t heard from him yet. The friendly young man led us out ton the street and flagged down a moto-tricycle for us. He had asked some very pertinent and thoughtful questions which were not fully answered, and I complimented him on his questions.
It’s hard to know what to make of all this. There was a ripple of the North American “worship wars” in what happened, and they were clearly on the side of focusing the whole of worship on God, which resonated with me. Yet the worship itself seemed strangely empty. It was more like extended teaching, focused on expanding human knowledge after all, and not on God.
Upon reflection, I’m sure the whole experience also hooked me in some uncomfortable ways because it reminded me of some of what I disliked most in the CRC 50 years ago in my youth, setting itself forth as the only true church (quite literally) against all mistaken, if not false forms of church life and doctrine. I’m not sure, of course, how much what we experienced is characteristic of the CRC in the Philippines generally. Again, I was greatly impressed by the level of Bible knowledge and theological sophistication by the pastor and the congregation; I wonder how it’s all applied.
God bless the CRC of the Philippines. I’m sure it has a significant ministry in this nation and culture.