Reading the interaction between Carl Trueman and Matthew Buccheri is interesting, and actually might converge more than conflict, as you can see from the comments.

It is interesting that, when you ask, “What were the Confessions and Catechisms of the Reformed Churches of the Sixteenth Century, the answer is a plethora of documents. But with Westminster the flow seems to slow or even shut down (some of the productive energy seems to have been transmuted into catechisms elaborating on the shorter catechism, which strikes me as a different sort of thing altogether).

So what happened?  How did we go from a productive and prolific confessing body to a group who would demand to remain bound by words and forms of speech we can’t even understand any more in some cases, and which we don’t use in our pulpits or our sunday schools–except when we want to hagiologize our heritage that is so superior to the many tribes of Evangelicals from whom it is so important that we differentiate ourselves?

This is the irony.  If we had actually continued in the lively tradition of the Westminster Assembly, we wouldn’t now face the continual challenge of “translating” the Reformed Faith for our generation.  To the extent that faith can be inscribed, we would already have it in contemporary form.

The main defense of the sudden freezing of Confessional writing has to be that it has protected us from great error that would have crept into the Church otherwise.

Okay.  If that is true, I find it odd that we spend so much time celebrating the document and writing hagiography about it.  I’ve never known a cancer surviver who held the day he started chemo as a perpetual anniversary celebration.  He would thank God for the chemo.  He would be glad that it was available in light of the alternative.

But the anniversary would be celebrated on the day he no longer needed chemotherapy.  Being healthy is preferable to centuries of dependency on medication.