Last November the federation of United Reformed Churches was organized by 35 consistories on a sound Reformed basis. While leaving room for additional "charter congregations" until October 21 of this year, that first synod arranged for the organization of three "classes," two in Canada and one in the United States. Less than nine months later the 16 States-side churches increased to 29. Two (Boise, ID, and Lynden, WA) opted to join, at least temporarily, with Classis West for geographical proximity. But that still leaves Classis Midwest with 27 congregations with possibly more to come.

Small wonder, then, that the matter of classical division arose. Some, for the sake of fellowship and greater strength, preferred to leave the situation as is. Others, for obvious practical reasons, pressed for a new alignment. By majority, Classis Midwest decided to seek the approval of synod scheduled for October for an appropriate division.¹ Each classis decides on when and at times even how such realignment is desired. Synodical approval (because the entire federation is involved) remains necessary for the sake of good order. Within a few days I was requested, perhaps because of long experience in Christian Reformed classes both "small" and "large", to present by way of Christian Renewal my views.

But what, a few readers may be asking, is a "classis" really? Briefly summarized, "In Reformed church polity a classis is an official assembly of those delegated by neighboring churches to discharge ecclesiastical affairs which could not be properly and effectively settled in the local congre­gation." And now for every thoughtful Reformed believer the questions soon begin to multiply.

A classis meets at stated times. Its agenda is carefully prepared and made known beforehand, lest the delegates are compelled to decide on matters without previous knowledge and thought. It, although the framework continues, is not a "continuing" body like a consistory. Its decisions are nevertheless binding unless a next such gathering upon good grounds decides to set aside or rescind these. What is the scope and degree of its authority? Why and when were such assemblies first introduced into the life of the churches? Are they "essential?" Are they even "necessary" and "profitable"? And, to add no more to the growing list, why such an odd-sounding, such a foreign name? All these and more questions have a high degree of relevance for the seemingly simple and practical issue of classical realignment. But without even beginning to respond to them all, I would refer to our Reformed past. A little history never "hurt" anyone. Rather, it can "help" us all to understand far better who and why we are what we are, also in matters pertaining to Christ's work of gathering, preserving and defending his redeemed people for their welfare and the greater glory of our gracious God.

The word classis derives from the Latin language, used for groups of several disparate kinds but especially for a fleet of ships. Sailing alone, a ship could easily be seized by pirates in search of plunder and slaves. It was also greatly assisted by neighboring ships when in danger of being capsized by the oft-times tempestuous winds and waves. And our early Reformed fathers saw each church, properly organized according to NT pattern, as a single vessel setting out with precious cargo on the storm-tossed ocean of world history.

If anything, those men were far more realistic in facing life-situations than most ecclesiastics in our day. They had listened and learned well from the apostle Paul's farewell address to the Ephesian elders. Every Reformed congregation with its leaders was then under imminent attack, either from within or from without. Persecution had become increasingly the order of the day. Fierce religious wars were breaking out everywhere. Not a few had joined their company only to plot treachery from within.²   Evangelical preachers were harried and hunted down by the wild dogs of state and church who showed no love for Gospel truth and its champions.³  Entire families, their homes ransacked in search of forbidden Bibles and books, fled for their lives to hopefully safe havens for a season. Frequently they possessed no more than the clothes on their backs and a few silver coins in their purses. How could the "welfare" of each struggling congregation with its endangered members be at least to some degree promoted? That is why those leaders decided upon "classes" (pl) and "synods."

Unimaginably terrifying and terrible times, you soon exclaim. But, while in our lands the situation is far more favorable because of changed circumstances, do you really suppose that the enemies of Christ's cause and church have all gone to sleep? Likely there are even more wolves in sheep's clothing today than four and a half centuries ago. Need I rehearse who they are and where they lurk? Any congregation convinced that it can go it all alone in today's wicked world may well wake up when it is too late.

By the 1550s we hear of "classes" first among the French Reformed.⁴  For them Calvin had paved the way by teaching that not only doctrine and worship but also church organization was to conform to Holy Scripture. His contribu­tions can hardly be overrated. Not only did he champion the "crown rights" of Christ in the church over against control by the civil magistrates; he especially restored the office of the eldership to its rightful place. And the churches took this seriously. Thus by 1559 in the face of civil war and intensified persecution the "structures" were in place consistory, classis, provincial or regional synod and general synod.

In less than ten years the Netherlands churches, having spread rapidly and now threatened with similar dissolution and destruction, followed the same pattern. At Wesel (1568) a group of ministers and elders met unofficially. They presented their convictions on the proper federation of all Reformed congregations which by that date were found in what is now northern France, Belgium and Holland together with refugee churches in Germany and England. Three years later at Emden (1571) that pattern was officially adopted. But here, more clearly than in the French churches, safeguards against ecclesiastical hierarchy and tyranny were clearly set forth and that in the very first article of its church order.

No church shall lord it over ("heerschappij voeren") another; no minister of the Word, no elder, or deacon over another, but everyone shall guard against all suspicions and temptations to domineer ("heerschappen")⁵

Always, already Wesel underscored this several times, the broader (not "higher!") assemblies were to be constituted for the "welfare" of all the congregations. Such a properly regulated organization was not to restrict the rightful freedoms which flowed from Christ and the gospel to a local church and its members. Rather they were intended to yield "heilzame vruchten" for one and all healthy, wholesome, actual, fruits ministering unto salvation as the term "heil" clearly indicates. No lengthy argumentation for broader assemblies did they deem necessary. For this there was ample warrant in the account of the Jerusalem council (Acts 15) as well as by way of apostolic precept and example. At first hand they had witnessed the spiritual disarray and devastation wrought by self-styled leaders and their followers each going their own way.⁶

It ought, then, not be necessary at this late date to provide Scriptural justification for the Reformed pattern of church government. It can, indeed, harbor within itself several "dangers" as many of the readers know only too well. But the fault lies then not with the structures but with those who use and abuse their delegated powers. Decisions, so the fathers often said, should be reached "by common consent," something not attained by those narrow majorities on fundamental issues which have occasioned so much pain, bitterness and growing disunity. Soon it becomes clear that two cannot walk together within Christ's church unless they agree principially on (shall I use the phrase?) "the nature and scope of Biblical authority."