I grew up in the RP Church with five distinctive principles: exclusive psalmody, a cappella singing, political dissent, no membership in secret oath-bound societies, and total abstinence from alcohol. By the time I went to college, I knew that total abstinence was not really an RP distinctive. The whole United States once outlawed the manufacture, sale, and use of alcohol as a beverage. Then I read that the Catholic Church in the 1830s forbade its members to join the Masons. Next I discovered that Reformed churches for centuries used the Psalter as their hymnal, as did the ancient Church. A cappella singing? The ancient catholic orthodox church maintained a centuries-long polemic against using musical instruments in worship: A cappella means “like it’s done in church.”

What about political dissent? Its practice was distinctive. It dealt with the sub-Christian U.S. Constitution by having church members opt out of running for office and voting. But the theology of the mediatorial kingship of Jesus Christ that lay behind political dissent was universal! The Christian Church long taught that kings, that is, governments, should obey Christ. What else could Psalm 2, calling on nations to cease rebelling against God and on kings to kiss His Anointed, possibly mean? For centuries, kings in Christendom were crowned in church services.

As I studied church history, I concluded that any truly unique teaching will likely be wrong. But our practice of a cappella psalm singing, the open life, and assertion of the present mediatorial reign of King Jesus are not distinctive. These things are the tenaciously held teachings of ages past against an American church world that rejects them.

What a discovery for a young RP: None of our distinctives are unique to the RP Church. Yes, American churches sing hymns with bands, and American Christians are proud of our secular Constitution. But who is right about these things, the Church of the ages to which we belong, or the churches of America?

The question presses on us because we are few in number. But the question also presses on believers who cannot fathom how a land with millions of Christians protects abortion, makes divorce easy, outlaws prayer in its public schools, and protects its crass popular culture from any restraint whatsoever. Might we also, though strong and wealthy, belong to a fading Western world that in its European heart is allergic to the memory of a Christian past and fearful of bearing children for the future?

The column “De Regno Christi,” which begins with this issue of the Witness, aims to exalt Christ as Ruler and Savior of nations. He is the only hope for our dying Western culture, as He is the only hope for the entire human race. He calls out, “Turn ye, turn ye from your evil ways; for why will ye die?” (Ez. 33:11). “Come to me, all ye who labor, and I will give you rest. Learn from me, for my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt. 11:28-30).