A Good Ship with a Divided Crew: Reflections on My Former Denomination, the PCA

I have said it gently over the years that when the process becomes the pastor, the pastor slowly disappears. And this is where the PCA so often bleeds—slowly, bureaucratically, politely.

I left the PCA in 2008. I have often said that those early years—seven of them under care in two Florida presbyteries—were magnificent. The pastors who shaped me and the saints whom I loved and served formed me in ways. I will never forget, dear Rev. Frank Cavalli, whose friendship I will always treasure. But nearly twenty years have passed, and the landscape has shifted. Some of the hills I once climbed have eroded; some of the streams that once nourished now run thin.

Whenever I think about the health of a denomination, the question that constantly comes to mind is: “Is it pastoral or not?” In other words, is it an institution shaped by those pastoral qualities of courage and orthodoxy? If a structure strengthens shepherds, feeds sheep, and protects the flock, then it is worth defending. But when a structure begins discipling pastors more than pastors disciple their people, something precious has inverted.

The PCA I Knew

For three years, I served in a PCA congregation wearing more hats than a church rummage sale: youth leader, music leader, administrator, Sunday School teacher, and pulpit supply. Through those roles, I came to love the ordinary parishioner and the faithful pastor who labored quietly without applause. The PCA has given the Reformed world extraordinary servants—men of deep conviction, missional zeal, and sturdy liturgy. I should mention the worship of St. Paul’s Presbyterian in Orlando, where my friend Justin Borger currently pastors. That flock left an impression on me. Their fingerprints remain on my ministry today.

And yet, I began to notice a pattern. It was slow at first, then unavoidable.

When Process Becomes Pastor

I have said it gently over the years that when the process becomes the pastor, the pastor slowly disappears. And this is where the PCA so often bleeds—slowly, bureaucratically, politely.

In some places, there is an unrelenting pressure to pacify women and younger saints; to hear their concerns without challenging their trajectory. So whenever I ask, “Is it pastoral?”, I often find myself staring at an image that does not resemble the Davidic shepherding ministry. Or, to quote Calvin, in his Titus commentary, “The pastor must have two voices: one, for gathering the sheep; the other, for driving away wolves and thieves.” One can argue that in attempting to gather the sheep, the PCA is actually making it easier for the wolves. The slow woke decline, the increasing apologies from PCA leaders over slavery and whiteness, and the emphasis on tailoring the message to victimization causes are pastoral concerns that must be addressed if the denomination will seek the kingdom first in the decades ahead.

I’ve watched good men fight for clarity, only to be met with what I once described as “Reformed theology without Reformed instincts.” The instincts matter. The cultural reflexes matter. Geneva’s bones matter.

The Worship Tension

There are a host of theological topics that have endangered the future of the PCA: women in ministry, creation, political correctness, but one of the clearest examples appears in worship. I’ve said before that some want Calvin’s soteriology without Calvin’s worship. In my estimation, this is central to the PCA’s confusion. A big tent is a wonderful image until you realize half the tent wants pianos and imprecatory psalms while the other half wants spontaneity and praise choruses.

And yet—and this must be said clearly—the PCA is still filled with robust confessional churches. Many godly pastors still echo the voices of Mickey Schneider, Joey Pipa, Douglas Kelly, D. James Kennedy, and many others who gave the PCA its Reformed spine.

I have defended the PCA more times than I have critiqued it. I have honored her saints and encouraged her sons. She blessed me, and I wish to see her blessed in the days to come. But a denomination cannot move toward a shared goal unless it is united on fundamental ideals and principles.

I have summarized the PCA this way:

“It is a good ship with a divided crew—half rowing toward Geneva, half toward Manhattan.”

A church divided on worship, creation, politics, and confession is a church divided on the trajectory it wishes to pursue.

My Pastoral Word

My conclusion remains pastoral:

Honor what is faithful. Name and expel those who wish to part from classical Reformed models. And remember: Reformed churches are at their best when they stop performing for the culture and start worshiping the God who rules over cultures.

I praise God for the PCA, for what it gave me, for the men who shaped me, and for the saints who continue laboring within her courts. I pray for boldness in the days ahead. I would like to see a time when the CREC, though small and young, comes alongside the PCA and works together for the good of the Church and our country.