Sola SinglesSola Singles

Back to Articles

Why Sola Singles?

We spent years inside the sites that already exist. Here is what they are like, and what we built instead.

The Problem

Those sites call themselves singles communities, but there is no community to be found. No covenant fellowship, no friendship, no brotherly love — only profiles to search and messages to send, and nowhere for people to come to know one another the way a church does over a meal.

What they have is one chat that everyone sees, and you can set your watch by what happens in it. It sits quiet for months. Then a big personality arrives with more to say than everyone else, and for a few weeks the room is theirs. Sometimes it is wonderful — the best conversations started with something one of them said. But other times it is a fight. And every now and then it becomes a trial: whether someone even falls within orthodoxy. Then they go quiet, or leave, and the room goes dark until the next one arrives.

That cycle has four causes. There is no door: anyone can call themselves a Christian and mean anything by it. There are no rules: nothing is written down, so members are forced to hash it out themselves. There is nobody to keep the peace: when a quarrel starts, there is no one to settle it. And there are no rooms: quiet places to chat. One feed is too big to speak up in, so most people only watch. Fellowship needs all four. We built them — and then one thing more, so that when faithful believers differ, they have tools to help understand one another.

The Door

Behind everything here is a doctrinal statement that is precise on purpose. Signing was never the hard part. A man can sign a loose statement and mean something else by every word — "grace" that he earns, a "Christ" who is not God. So we tightened the words until they mean one thing, and named the errors by name, so that a man who holds one cannot sign without lying.

And it is silent, deliberately, on what faithful believers differ over — baptism, the covenants, church government, the Lord's Day, the millennium. The silences are not gaps. They are the conversations we want. John MacArthur and R.C. Sproul had them for decades and stayed friends — The Men Who Inspired tells the story.

Then there is a second lock: every member proves, with identification and a live check, that he is a real person with a real face.

None of this reads a heart. A man can sign falsely, or sign sincerely and be wrong about himself, and no document can tell the difference — neither can any church. But when you sit down in a room here, you already know the person across the table affirmed, with his own hand, the same gospel you did, and is exactly who he says he is. The question other communities spend months fighting over is settled before anyone walks in. You are free to like him.

The Rules

George Whitefield and John Wesley divided over the doctrines of grace — the very ground this place is named for — and said so in print, without softening a word. Yet asked once whether he expected to see Wesley in heaven, Whitefield reportedly said he feared not: Wesley would be so near the throne, and he himself at such a distance, that he should hardly catch sight of him. And when Whitefield died, the man who preached his funeral sermon, at Whitefield's own request, was John Wesley.

That is what the Code of Conduct is for: to keep fellowship alive, not to keep the peace at any price. Iron sharpens iron (Proverbs 27:17), so argue. Bring the texts, press hard, tell a brother plainly that he is wrong — and stay friends, because being contradicted is not an injury and hurt feelings are not evidence of sin. The whole standard fits in a sentence: argue as hard as you like, and never with contempt (Romans 14:10).

Leave your pride at the door with everything else the door catches. Then the worst an argument here can cost you is an error, and losing one of those is profit. And because the Code is written down, nobody invents the rules mid-argument, and when conflict arises, and it will, there is a standard for repentance, forgiveness and reconciliation.

The Moderation

When members cannot settle something themselves, they can ask for help, and a real person comes. Staff step in the way fathers and elders do — not to punish, not to side with whoever is loudest, but to bring the matter to a godly end. Nothing here depends on one big personality, and you never have to face a troublemaker alone.

The Position Papers

Every position that divides our members gets a full paper, written so that the people who hold it would own it. It is entirely possible to grow up in one of these traditions and never once hear the other side's position stated fairly by someone who believes it. What you hear instead is the caricature.

And when a man and a woman here hold different convictions, someone has to explain the difference. It should not have to be the woman. That work belongs to fathers and elders, and the papers do it in their place, stating each position the way her pastor would state it to a man who asked. Then the two of you talk as equals who have read the same thing, not as teacher and pupil — and if one of you decides the other is wrong, it is the real position that was judged, not the caricature of it.

The Rooms

Nobody falls in love with a search result. In real life you come to know a person sideways, over something — a book, a meal, a game of chess — and you learn how she treats the fellow who knows less than she does. So we built rooms first and hung the profiles off them: books, cooking, gardening, games, the outdoors, travel, animals, making things — and theology, where the arguing belongs. Small rooms, where posting costs nothing. And there you get to watch a man "admonish the unruly, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak" (1 Thessalonians 5:14) before the two of you ever speak. The door tells you what he confesses. The rooms show you who he is.

What It Is All For

A member arrives. He has signed the same gospel you did, and his face is his own. In the chess room you find out he is funny. In the theology room you find out he is a paedobaptist, and you tell him why he is wrong, and he tells you why you are, and you both go read the papers before round two. Four states apart, over a game and an argument, two people who share the gospel stop being strangers. Some of that ends in a marriage. That is what all of it is for.