What is Excommunication?
For those who are familiar with the language of excommunication, the term is rarely heard neutrally. It provokes a reaction, often shaped by prior experience rather than careful reflection. For some, it conjures images of spiritual tyranny and ecclesiastical overreach. For others, it feels like an embarrassing relic of the past, incompatible with modern sensibilities. Still others regard it as harsh and unloving, contrary to the spirit of acceptance they believe Christianity demands.
These responses share a common mistake: they detach excommunication from the authority of Jesus Christ and the doctrine of the church. When severed from its theological roots, excommunication does appear abusive or absurd. But when rightly understood — within the framework of Christ’s Kingship, the keys of the kingdom, and the ordered exercise of church discipline — it emerges as a sober, restrained, and ultimately pastoral act entrusted to the visible church for our good.
Foundational to the doctrine of the church and its ministry is the confession that Jesus Christ alone is King and Head of the church. He rules by his Word and Spirit. That means all authority exercised within the church is absolutely subordinate to him. Any approach to church power that begins anywhere else, whether it’s in men, offices, institutions, tradition, or consent, has already gone astray.
It’s within the framework of Christ’s Kingship that he gives power and authority in the keys of the kingdom. A key is used to either unlock or lock, to open or close. Jesus said, “And I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (Matt. 16:19, see also 18:17-18, and Jn. 20:21-23). Through the use of the keys the church doesn’t act autonomously but declares the mind of Christ as revealed in the Scriptures. The Westminster Confession of Faith says,
“To these officers the keys of the kingdom of heaven are committed, by virtue whereof they have power respectively to retain and remit sins, to shut that kingdom against the impenitent, both by the Word and censures; and to open it unto penitent sinners, by the ministry of the gospel, and by absolution from censures, as occasion shall require.”
It’s essential to state clearly what the keys are not. They are not the power to forgive sin, nor the authority to condemn a person eternally. Such prerogatives belong to God alone — only he opens and no one will shut, and shuts and no one opens (Rev. 3:7, see also Mk. 2:7 and Lk. 5:21). Rather, the exercise of the keys is a declaration made on the basis of what Christ promises or warns in his Word.
At the same time, the authority of the keys cannot be diminished to mere counsel or opinion. Christ governs his church through appointed means, and the exercise of the keys is one of them. When the church does this in harmony with Christ, not without him or in competition with him, the church’s authority is real — yes, dependent, accountable, and limited to Christ’s Word — but very real.
The authority Christ entrusts to his church isn’t exercised abstractly. It’s exercised concretely through the Word and, in part, through the practice of church discipline. Discipline is not peripheral to the church’s life because it’s not peripheral to our life in Christ: “For whom the LORD loves He chastens” (Heb. 12:6). Our sonship is proved by the Lord's discipline in each of our lives. It’s also one of the ordinary means by which Christ governs his visible church (see Matt. 18:15-18).
The necessity of church discipline is plainly stated in the Westminster Confession of Faith, “for the reclaiming and gaining of offending brethren; for deterring of others from like offenses; for purging out of that leaven which might infect the whole lump; for vindicating the honor of Christ, and for the holy profession of the gospel; and for preventing the wrath of God.” The church disciplines in obedience to Jesus. When it’s neglected, the church doesn’t preserve peace, forfeits faithfulness, and fails at loving others — both the offender and the body as a whole.
Necessary as discipline is, it isn’t uniformly severe. A parent likely doesn't discipline a child in the same way for every act of disobedience. Neither does the church. Scripture and the Presbyterian tradition recognize different degrees of discipline. Some of the biblical vocabulary includes admonition (1 Thess. 5:12 and Titus 3:10-11), rebuke (1 Tim. 5:20 and Titus 1:9), and even exclusion from the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor. 5:11). These differences reflect the patience of Christ toward his people. They also guards against undue severity. When rightly administered, discipline is neither impulsive nor indiscriminate. It’s deliberate and proportionate, and responsive to both the nature of the offense and the posture of the offender.
Church discipline isn’t symbolic or absolute. It’s a real exercise of Christ’s authority in the church, but — as an exercise of the keys — it’s strictly bounded by his Word. The church only disciplines those who are under its care and only by the means Christ has appointed. While discipline doesn’t presume on God’s final judgment, it does bind the conscience ministerially, not infallibly, and always under the authority of Christ himself.
It's here that discipline meets the doctrine of liberty of conscience. Some might empty discipline of all its authority on the basis of their own private judgment that the church is simply wrong. Bannerman flags the danger of this mindset: "Such an interpretation of the liberty of conscience on the part of her members must destroy Church authority altogether, and must leave the kingdom of Christ without government or order, utterly helpless to redress wrong or restrain offences, and without power to guard its own communion from open profanation and dishonor." While the right of conscience is granted by Christ, the Church of Christ is also an ordinance of Christ, and both are intended to mutually limit and support one another. To stretch liberty so far that it eliminates discipline is one of the most "dangerous or mischievous perversions of a valuable and important truth," says Bannerman.
Excommunication is the most severe act of church discipline, and it must be defined with care for that very reason. It’s clear from the Bible that it’s sometimes necessary to exclude someone entirely from the communion of the church:
“But if he refuses even to hear the church, let him be to you like a heathen and a tax collector” (Matt. 18:17).
“In the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, when you are gathered together, along with my spirit, with the power of our Lord Jesus Christ, deliver such a one to Satan for the destruction of the flesh, that his spirit may be saved in the day of the Lord Jesus” (1 Cor. 5:4-5).
“But we command you, brethren, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you withdraw from every brother who walks disorderly and not according to the tradition which he received from us” (2 Thess. 3:6).
Properly understood, excommunication is a form of discipline by which an unrepentant member is excluded. But this exclusion only applies to the external privileges of membership in the church. In excommunicating someone, the church doesn’t claim insight into the eternal state of their soul, and it doesn’t pronounce final condemnation. Rather, it judges whether a person’s profession of faith and conduct of life can continue to be recognized as consistent with membership in Christ’s church.
James Bannerman helpfully wrote, “When he gave them right to ‘retain and remit sin,’ — language not to be interpreted literally, as a power from Christ to forgive guilt, or to visit it with everlasting condemnation, vested in His Church, but to be understood as conferring authority on the Church only in reference to those external privileges and punishments of transgression, which as a visible society, it has a title to award and to remove.”
Excommunication doesn’t place a person outside the reach of God’s grace but it does remove them from the privileges and blessings of membership. In doing so, it speaks with gravity but not with finality. The sentence is real, but it isn’t irrevocable. It remains open to repentance, restoration, and reconciliation.
This underscores the seriousness of excommunication. It’s serious because it’s a solemn and public declaration that someone has lost their standing in the church. It’s serious because it withholds the sacramental sign that ordinarily confirms and nourishes faith. And it’s serious because it aims, not at punishment for its own sake, but at awakening a sinner to the seriousness of their condition. Because it’s so serious, it must be exercised with fear, humility, and restraint.
Excommunication isn’t the church’s assertion of power, but her submission to Christ’s command to speak truthfully and judge righteously, even when that is costly. As Bannerman rightly observed, “Such discipline, too, is to be reverenced and submitted to because of the authority of the Church, as divinely appointed to exercise it.”
Excommunication is one of the most sobering responsibilities the church has been given. It doesn’t contradict the gospel of grace, it presupposes it. Only a church that believes repentance is real, forgiveness is possible, and restoration is worth pursuing can justify such a difficult act.
For those who fear excommunication as an instrument of abuse, Scripture and the Presbyterian tradition give a protective framework. Christ alone is King and Judge. The church exercises a limited, ministerial authority, bound by his Word. When exercised lawfully, humbly, and patiently, excommunication serves not ultimately to destroy, but to call back to Christ.
For those tempted to dismiss excommunication as unloving, the church must remember that love sometimes requires refusal. To continue affirming a profession of faith where conduct denies its credibility isn’t kindness, it’s confusion. Excommunication seeks to bring clarity by honestly affirming that the outward evidence of grace is no longer credibly present in the life of one who once professed it.
For those who think excommunication is a relic of the past, we must insist that Christ has entrusted this responsibility to his church. If he has appointed it as a form of discipline it’s not submission to reject it, it’s rebellion. The church carries out the will of Christ in the way that he has appointed it.
In all of this, the church must act with fear and hope — fear, because excommunication is an act in the name of Christ, and hope because no sentence of the church outruns the mercy of God. Excommunication speaks seriously, but not finally. By it Christ is honored, and the peace, progress, purity, and unity of the church are preserved under his rule.
For an introductory overview on Presbyterianism see my book The Household of Faith: Introducing Presbyterianism.