Who Rules the Church?

Over the past several years, I have sought to teach and lead with one central conviction: that Christ rules His church by His Word, and that faithfulness consists in hearing what He has said and ordering our lives together accordingly. My aim is not to persuade by pressure, nor to resolve questions by appeal to preference or tradition, but to help us think carefully and biblically about an issue that bears directly on our obedience to Christ.

Questions about church order can feel technical or administrative on the surface, but Scripture treats them differently. How the church is ordered is not incidental to Christ’s lordship; it is one of the ways His authority is expressed and acknowledged among His people. For that reason, these matters deserve thoughtful attention, patient examination of Scripture, and honest reflection before God.

I am grateful for the history of this church and for the many men who have served Christ here with sincerity and sacrifice. Nothing in what follows is intended to diminish that gratitude. At the same time, gratitude for the past does not relieve us of responsibility in the present. Scripture calls the church in every generation to test itself by the Word of God and to reform where greater faithfulness is required.

This post is written in that spirit. It is an invitation—not to argument, but to discernment; not to fear, but to clarity; not to loyalty to any man, but to submission to Christ. The question before us is simple, though not light: has Christ spoken clearly about how His church is to be ordered, and if so, how will we respond?

My prayer is that we would approach this moment together with humility, courage, and confidence—not in ourselves, but in the wisdom and goodness of our Shepherd, who loves His church and leads it by His Word.

When the King Comes to His Temple

In Mark 11, Jesus enters Jerusalem in a way that calls for careful attention. Before He ever reaches the temple, He quietly but clearly asserts His authority. Mark 11 begins with Jesus sending His disciples to take a colt—one that does not belong to them—and tells them exactly what to say if they are questioned: “The Lord has need of it.” There is no argument offered, no negotiation entered into. There is tremendous irony in Mark 11:6: “…and they gave them permission.” Jesus did not ask for permission nor was permission needed. It may seem strange that Jesus would tell his disciples to just go and take a colt that did not belong to them. The point is simple and clear: Jesus did not need permission because Jesus owned that colt as the rightful Lord. He created the colt after-all. And this colt was created for a very special purpose — to carry the King into His rightful city of rule.

Mark then describes Jesus riding into Jerusalem as King—though not in the way many expected. He comes humbly, mounted on a a lowly colt instead of a regal horse fit to carry a king. This fulfilled the promises of Scripture (Zech. 9:9; Gen. 49.10-11; Isaiah 62:11). He is gentle, yet purposeful; lowly, yet resolute. His humility does not negate His authority—it displays its character.

When He reaches the temple, He does something that is easy to overlook: He does not act immediately. He looks around. He observes. He inspects. The King has come, He has entered into His temple as the rightful ruler and the True High Priest, and then He does something quite unexpected: He leaves. This is an act of judgment on a nation that has rejected His rule. Their King has come, their long-awaited Messiah is here, but His inspection finds a hard-hearted people who do not want their rightful King to rule, so He leaves.

Notice what happens next. The following day, on His return to the city, Jesus approaches a fig tree full of leaves. From a distance it appears healthy and full of promise. But when He draws near, He finds no fruit. He curses it, and it withers—not because it lacked opportunity, but because it bore nothing.

This act is not incidental. It is a living parable.

Israel had the appearance of spiritual life. The temple stood. Religious activity continued. Leadership structures were in place. Yet when the rightful King came to examine His people, He found fruitlessness. Those entrusted with care had failed in their stewardship, and judgment followed.

But then the drama intensifies. Jesus goes back to the temple and this time He gets to work. His response is measured but decisive. He cleanses it—overturning tables and driving out what does not belong—because the temple is His house. His actions are not impulsive; they are the rightful exercise of authority. And this demonstrates what is necessary for Christ to finally rule: a temple that has been cleansed. A people who have turned from their self-seeking autonomy and have bowed their knee to their King. A people who have come to see that Christ will broker no negotiations with His people over the extend of his authority. There is only one King and He has commanded. The amazing thing is that the very King who commands is also One who cleanses. He does not leave things the way they are though He could have. He could have left to the people to the judgment they deserved. But He does not do this. He comes, and He cleanses and He reforms. He is constantly at work cleansing His temples; His people.

The Central Question

Now notice what happens toward the end of Mark 11. There is a conversation with the religious leaders. They ask a very important question: by what authority are you doing these things, or who gave you this authority to do these things?” This is the central question to ask. It is the central question for all of life. It is the central question we as a church should be asking. It is the one question above all questions that the Pharisees, us, and all men and women need to get answered correctly. The authority of Christ is central and demands our submission.

Jesus responds by directing them to consider John the Baptist: Was his authority from heaven or from men? Their silence is telling. It is not rooted in confusion, but in reluctance. A clear answer would require a costly response. It would require giving up a system that they had spend hundreds of years cultivating. It would mean letting go of their autonomy and their traditions. It would affect their comfort and their profiteering. To answer that question correctly is to condemn their mistreatment and scorn of a prophet sent from the God they claimed to serve. It would expose their greater sin of rejecting the Son of God that they so clearly hated. They asked a question hoping to trap Jesus and in doing so walked into a trap themselves. Either way they answer Jesus’ questions exposes them. So they plead ignorance.

Such a common response. When confessing the authority of Christ becomes costly, people rarely say, “I refuse to submit.” Instead, they plead ignorance.

“Who can really be sure about these things?”
“These issues are complicated.”
“Godly men disagree—who am I to claim certainty?”
“We need to be careful.”
“I’m just trying to be humble.”
“We don’t want to divide over secondary matters.”

These appeals often sound virtuous, even wise. But in Scripture, they frequently function as a refuge from clarity. They are not born from lack of evidence, but from the cost that clarity would impose. When obedience threatens comfort, control, or familiarity, uncertainty becomes a convenient shelter. The problem is not disagreement among men, but reluctance to submit to what Christ has revealed. The question is not whether godly men have differed, but whether Christ has spoken clearly enough to require obedience. And when He has, pleading uncertainty is not humility—it is delay.

look at what Jesus says at then end of Mark 11:33. Instead of pressing further, He says, “neither will I tell you by what authority I do these things.” Again, this is unexpected. He does not argue. He does not grow angry. He does something far more terrifying for those clinging to ignorance: He leaves them in their ignorance. He leaves them under the weight of their own refusal. This scene echoes the warning of Amos 8. In that passages there is a very important warning about what happens when the voice of the Lord is persistently resisted, God may withhold it as judgment. Through the prophet Amos, the Lord warns of a coming famine—“not a famine for bread or a thirst for water, but rather for hearing the words of Yahweh” (Amos 8:11). When God’s word is rejected, the blessing of hearing it is withdrawn.

In such moments, ignorance does not excuse disobedience; it exposes it. Scripture nowhere suggests that those who fail to discern God’s will are therefore innocent. On the contrary, Paul declares that God has revealed Himself with unmistakable clarity: “That which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them” (Romans 1:19). Creation itself bears witness to His eternal power and divine nature, “so that they are without excuse” (Rom 1:20).

The problem, then, is not lack of revelation but suppression of truth. As Scripture says, “The fool has said in his heart, ‘There is no God’” (Psalm 14:1). Foolishness is not intellectual deficiency; it is moral resistance.

God is equally clear in His written Word. He has not left His people to speculation or perpetual uncertainty. When clarity is avoided, it is not because God has failed to speak, but because obedience would be costly. Jesus Himself exposes this posture in Mark 11, when the religious leaders refuse to answer His question about authority—not because the truth is unclear, but because acknowledgment would require submission.

This reminds us that avoiding a question does not remove its force. Silence does not suspend accountability. When authority is revealed, response is unavoidable—and judgment follows refusal.

For this reason, questions of authority in the church are never merely organizational or procedural. They are profoundly spiritual. They reveal whether we will hear the voice of God and submit to it, or whether we will suppress clarity in order to preserve comfort.

Christ still comes to His temple.
Christ still cares about the health of His church.
Christ still desires fruit.

The issue before us, then, is not primarily one of preference—structure versus familiarity, tradition versus change—but one of discernment: will we recognize and submit to Christ’s authority as it is revealed in His Word? When Christ comes to inspect His church, will He find willing obedience—or resistance that requires cleansing? And when His will is set before us with clarity, how will we respond? Will we receive it in submission, or will we retreat into uncertainty like the Pharisees—pleading ignorance not because truth is unavailable, but because obedience is costly?

There is wisdom required here, and there is responsibility.

My desire has always been simple and sincere: that our church would be ordered according to Scripture. Where the Bible speaks clearly, we want to follow faithfully. Where Christ commands, we want to obey. That is the aim guiding these conversations.

The Question of Authority

In our church, we are not asking what is most familiar or most comfortable, but what Christ has commanded concerning the ordering of His church. This question cannot be ignored, deferred to tradition, or answered by appeals to ignorance. Christ rules His church by His Word, and it is to that Word we must submit.

Who has authority in the church?

In thinking through these matters, I have heard a number of appeals offered in response—appeals to tradition, to personal experience, to emotional reaction, and at times to uncertainty itself. I have also heard the refrain, “Godly men disagree.” These considerations are often raised as reasons to withhold clarity or delay decision.

Yet none of these function as authority. Tradition can inform, experience can shape perspective, and emotion can reveal concern—but none can determine obedience. Even sincere disagreement among godly men does not relieve the church of the responsibility to ask what Christ has commanded and to submit where Scripture speaks clearly.

I have labored to teach clearly over the past four years that the authority of the church does not originate with men, traditions, or structures, but with Christ Himself. Jesus declares, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth” (Matthew 28:18). The church, therefore, does not possess inherent authority; it exercises derived authority, delegated by Christ and bounded by His Word.

Christ rules His church presently and actively, not by personal appearance, but by His Word and Spirit. He governs through Scripture, which is sufficient to equip the church “for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16–17). Where Scripture speaks, Christ speaks. And where Christ speaks, the church is not free to substitute preference, tradition, or consensus.

In the New Testament, Christ entrusts the care, oversight, and instruction of the church to qualified elders, who are charged not with inventing authority, but with faithfully shepherding God’s flock “according to God” (1 Peter 5:2). Their authority is real but ministerial—limited to teaching, guarding, and applying what Christ has already revealed. They rule only insofar as they remain under Christ’s rule.

The congregation, likewise, is not autonomous, but accountable. Believers are called to submit to their leaders “as those who will give an account” (Hebrews 13:17), while also testing all teaching against Scripture (Acts 17:11). Authority in the church is therefore neither authoritarian nor democratic, but Christocratic—Christ ruling His people by His Word through the means He has appointed.

For this reason, questions of church order are not matters of pragmatism or preference. They are questions of obedience. The issue is never whether godly men have differed, but whether Christ has spoken clearly enough to require submission. And where He has, the church’s calling is not to hesitate, but to obey.

About Checks and Balances

One concern that has been raised is that an elder-led church removes necessary checks and balances. I understand why that concern exists, especially in a culture that is accustomed to thinking about authority in political terms. But Scripture frames accountability in the church differently.

I want to be clear: elder leadership does not mean unchecked leadership. Elders do not possess authority in themselves. They are under-shepherds who will give an account to Christ for how they lead His church (Heb. 13:17). That reality alone places a far greater restraint on leadership than any procedural safeguard could.

The most significant check on elders is not a vote or a mechanism, but the Word of God itself. Elders are bound to teach what Christ has revealed and nothing more (Titus 1:9). When leaders depart from Scripture, they forfeit moral authority. The congregation is never called to submit to error, but to test what is taught against the Word (Acts 17:11).

Scripture also provides protection through plurality. The New Testament never presents the church as ruled by a single man, but by a plurality of elders who share responsibility and hold one another accountable (Acts 14:23). This shared oversight guards against domination, impulsiveness, and personal agendas.

Elder leadership does not remove the congregation from responsibility. Members are still called to discern truth, to reject false teaching, and to act when leaders depart from Christ’s Word (Gal. 1:8; Matt. 18; 1 Cor. 5). What changes is not the church’s accountability, but the way authority is exercised—under Christ, according to Scripture, rather than by preference or majority rule.

My aim has never been to consolidate power or silence concern. It has been to align our church as closely as possible with what I am convinced Christ has revealed in His Word. If elders lead faithfully, they deserve joyful submission. If they do not, they deserve correction and, if necessary, removal. Scripture provides for both.

For that reason, I do not believe elder leadership removes checks and balances. I believe it places them where Christ intends them to be—under His authority, governed by His Word, and exercised in humility for the good of His church.

I have also heard the concern expressed this way: “That may be fine for you—but what about the next guy?” That concern assumes a model of leadership Scripture does not give us. The church is not ruled by a single man whose personality or temperament determines its direction. There is no singular “next guy” because there is only one true Shepherd. Christ Himself rules His church. He alone possesses ultimate authority, and all leadership within the church is exercised only as a stewardship under Him (Ephesians 1:22–23; 1 Peter 5:4).

For that reason, biblical leadership is never built around the strength, personality, or longevity of one individual. Scripture consistently guards the church from that very danger by establishing plurality. Christ shepherds His people through a plurality of qualified elders—men who are called to teach His Word, guard sound doctrine, and care for His flock together, holding one another accountable. This shared oversight is not a concession to weakness; it is a deliberate protection built into Christ’s design.

This pattern is not unique to the New Testament. Even under Moses—a divinely appointed leader and a type pointing forward to Christ—God made clear that His people were not to be governed by a solitary human authority. Moses alone was granted access to hear the voice of God and to stand in His presence on Sinai, yet he did not rule Israel alone. At the Lord’s direction, authority was shared among a plurality of elders who helped bear the responsibility of leadership, judgment, and instruction.

Moses’ unique role pointed beyond himself. Scripture presents him as one who spoke with God “face to face,” yet even that intimacy did not make him the final authority. God alone ruled; Moses served. In this way, Moses functioned as a shadow of the greater Mediator to come.

Jesus explicitly claims what Moses could only prefigure. He alone has truly seen the Father and perfectly knows His will. “Not that anyone has seen the Father except the One who is from God; He has seen the Father” (John 6:46). Christ does not merely receive revelation—He is the revelation. He speaks not as a servant within God’s house, but as the Son over it.

For that reason, Christ does not rule His church through successors who replace Him, but through servants who remain under Him. Unlike Moses, Christ requires no assistance to mediate God’s will. And yet, like Moses, He governs His people through a plurality of appointed leaders who steward His authority rather than possess it. The authority remains Christ’s alone; elders serve as under-shepherds who act in submission to His Word.

That same Christ-centered principle governs the church today. The safety of the church does not rest in political-style checks and balances, nor in confidence that one man will always lead well. It rests in Christ’s present rule, the authority of His Word, the plurality of qualified elders who shepherd under Him, and a congregation that tests what is taught and remains anchored in Scripture. Where these are present, the church is not exposed or vulnerable; it is guarded by the wisdom of Christ Himself.

And this is precisely what bears fruit. Christ is not looking for the appearance of life—leaves without substance—but for obedience shaped by His Word. The fig tree stood full and promising, yet when the Lord came near, He found no fruit. The issue was not vitality as it appeared from a distance, but faithfulness upon inspection. Where Christ’s authority is honored, fruit follows. Where it is resisted or deferred, judgment does.

My confidence, therefore, is not in myself, nor in any future leader, but in Christ, who loves His church and has ordered it wisely. Elder leadership does not remove safeguards—it locates them where Scripture places them: under Christ, governed by His Word, exercised through a plurality of godly men, and received by a discerning people who desire faithfulness above all else.

The Same Question Posed Today 

All of this leads to a necessary conclusion. If Christ truly rules His church—if authority belongs to Him and not to men—then His people cannot remain neutral when that authority is brought to bear. The question of authority is not theoretical, historical, or merely institutional. It is present and personal. Christ speaks now through His Word, and His church must answer.

Scripture does not permit God’s people to plead ignorance when clarity has been offered. Appeals to tradition, hesitation dressed as humility, or claims that certainty is unattainable do not suspend responsibility. When God has spoken, refusal to respond is itself a response. As the prophet warns, a time comes when those who would not listen to the word of the Lord will search for it and not find it (Amos 8:11–12). Silence follows persistent refusal.

Nor does Scripture treat abandonment of obedience as morally neutral. To turn away from what God has revealed—to cling instead to familiarity or inherited practice—is not caution, but departure. The language of Scripture is sobering: when God’s commands are known and set aside, judgment follows—not because God was unclear, but because His Word was disregarded (Hebrews 2:1–3).

For that reason, this moment cannot be avoided or deferred. Each of us must answer the question of authority—not by appealing to tradition, experience, or the disagreement of others, but by asking whether Christ has spoken clearly enough to require obedience. And if He has, then faithfulness is not found in delay, but in submission.

If the way we are currently ordered is pleasing to Christ, then all is well and good, and we may proceed with confidence. But if it is not—if Scripture reveals that we have misunderstood or neglected what Christ has commanded—then faithfulness requires change. 

What about the Past?

Some have expressed a concern this way: “What you are saying implies that the pastors of this church have had it all wrong for decades.” I want to be careful and clear here. That is not what I am saying. Faithful men can serve Christ sincerely, preach the gospel truly, and shepherd God’s people fruitfully, while still being imperfect in their understanding or application of certain matters. Scripture itself shows us this repeatedly.

The issue before us is not whether past pastors were faithful or unfaithful in every respect. The issue is whether Christ has spoken clearly in His Word, and whether we are willing to order His church according to that Word as we understand it today. The church has always grown in clarity over time—not by rejecting the faithfulness of those who came before, but by building upon it with greater precision and obedience.

To recognize the need for reform is not to condemn the past; it is to honor Christ. If faithfulness required perfection, no church could stand. But Scripture never calls us to preserve inherited practice simply because it is inherited. It calls us to continual reformation under the Word of God.

The question, then, is not whether our predecessors were sincere or used by God. The question is whether we will respond rightly if Scripture presses us toward greater faithfulness now. Gratitude for the past and obedience in the present are not competing virtues—they belong together.

What we cannot do is plead ignorance when clarity has been sought and Scripture has been opened. God does not excuse disobedience on the grounds that obedience would be inconvenient or unsettling.

Scripture consistently warns against this posture. When God’s Word is heard and yet disregarded, ignorance becomes culpable, not innocent. The author of Hebrews cautions us to “pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away,” reminding us that neglect of revealed truth brings judgment, not exemption (Hebrews 2:1–3). Likewise, the prophets warn that those who refuse to listen when God speaks will not find refuge in uncertainty later (Amos 8:11–12).

This leaves us with a sober responsibility. Once Christ has spoken, neutrality is no longer available. Tradition cannot shield us. Uncertainty cannot excuse us. Delay cannot absolve us. The only faithful response is to hear what the Lord has said and to order His church accordingly.

Conclusion

I want to conclude with this clarity and care. What is before us is not a referendum on personalities, nor a judgment on the faithfulness of those who have served this church in the past. It is not a question of comfort, familiarity, or sentiment. It is a question of authority.

Christ alone is the head of His church. He speaks by His Word. He governs by His will. And He holds His people accountable for how they hear and respond. Where our understanding and practice align with what He has revealed, we may proceed with gratitude and confidence. Where they do not, faithfulness requires repentance and reform—not because the past was useless, but because Christ remains Lord in the present.

Scripture does not permit us to remain undecided once clarity has been sought. We cannot take refuge in tradition, appeal to uncertainty, or defer obedience under the banner of humility. When Christ has spoken, neutrality is no longer available. To delay is to decide. To refuse clarity is to accept responsibility for the consequences of refusal.

My appeal to you, then, is not to follow me, nor to defend what is familiar, but to stand consciously and deliberately under the authority of Christ. Search the Scriptures. Examine what is being proposed. Weigh it carefully before God. And then respond—not out of fear or pressure, but out of conviction shaped by His Word.

Christ is a faithful Shepherd. He does not abandon His church, nor leave it without guidance. He speaks, He leads, and He will one day inspect what bears His name. May we be found not clinging to comfort or habit, but gladly submitting to His rule.

“Choose this day whom you will serve.”

That call remains. And each of us must answer—not by silence or delay, but by faithful obedience to the voice of our Lord.