What I Believe

V. Revealed Religion

3. Defining Church

A. The Physical Plant

i. The Ancient Altars

[09/07/20]

It is not an uncommon thing to be asked to define what it means to be a church.  When asked with such a choice of wording, there is a strong impetus to downplay the physical structure of the church as insignificant.  You may here, for example, that the church is the people, not the building.  There is truth in that, but it strikes me, given the whole of Scripture, as a partial truth.  While it is certainly true that the people are the central matter of the church, the nature of the physical plant is important to our Lord as well.  Yes, we can worship God anywhere, and in any setting, and indeed, we should.  But church is more than merely a place to worship God, or we must declare everyplace as church, which does not fit the biblical picture, either.

One thing that ought to be striking to us, I should think, is the sheer volume of space given over to describing the various places of worship, what we would call churches, in the text.  Great care is given to details of construction, details of decoration, details, even, of orientation.  All is prescribed and to be followed carefully.  Now this does admittedly drop off in the New Testament, and the focus goes into the details of those lives which shall compose the living church.  But I have to say this living church still gathers for worship.  This living church still bears resemblance to those edifices of old.  I should think, then, it is not the edifice which has changed so much as the materials used.  That’s probably overstating my point, but take it for what it’s worth.

For now, though, I would take some time to consider briefly what the Scriptures expand upon at length concerning the establishing of places of worship.  The earliest form we have are simple altars.  This is particularly prevalent as we work through the early history of God’s people in Genesis.  There are a few things we should immediately notice about these early altars.  The first is why the altar was built.  Noah builds an altar to the LORD to mark his safe delivery through the Flood (Ge 8:20).  Abram builds an altar to mark the promise of God to give the land around him, spreading out to Bethel in the west and Ai in the east, to his descendants (Ge 12:7-8).  Later, commanded to walk the land that God was going to give him through his descendants, he proceeded to Hebron and built another altar (Ge 13:18).  Come forward in time a bit and there is Abraham building yet another altar, this time in preparation to offer his own son, Isaac, in obedience to the Lord (Ge 22:9).  Isaac would build altars in his own turn, and again, it comes in recognition of a promise from God, establishing a new altar at Beersheba (Ge 26:23-24).  Isaac’s son Jacob would likewise commemorate his deliverance from Esau’s anger by erecting an altar to God, this time in Succoth (Ge 33:17-19).  He would later put up another altar, this time at God’s express command, in Bethel (Ge 35:1-7), the place where God had revealed Himself to Jacob.

Do you see a pattern here?  The altar stands as a reminder.  It marks the promise of God, and gives the builder a visible call to remember what God has said.  Let us not suppose these were therefore idols akin to those foreign gods that plague the people of God with temptation in every age.  Those idols, I should observe, are approached in false hope of some future boon.  The Canaanite form of worship was not pursuit of a promise received, but begging for a boon.  The altars built by the patriarchs were to a different purpose entirely.  The promise was already made, and frankly, I think to a man, they recognized their utter lack of worthiness to have received any such promise from any such God.

Neither ought we to equate these to, for example, the stone pillars that may be familiar from Celtic lore.  Those, too, served as markers for remembrance, and indeed, we do see occasions where such a marker is set in place by the Israelites as well, but altars are something different.  They make a remembrance, yes, or remind one of an assurance.  But they are something more than that.

Following the course of Abraham’s altar building, it would be tempting to see it as staking a claim on the land, but I don’t think that’s the real purpose any more than the land of Israel constitutes the real purpose.  Whatever its significance may turn out to be in the end, it is not the central promise of the Promised Land.  Abraham “was looking for the city which has foundations, whose architect and builder is God” (Heb 11:10), and this, while ‘he lived as an alien in the land of promise’ (Heb 11:9).  Building on that point, the author of Hebrews observes our situation.  “But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to myriads of angels, to the general assembly and church of the first-born who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the Judge of all, and to the spirits of righteous men made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood, which speaks better than the blood of Abel” (Heb 12:22-24).  “For here we do not have a lasting city, but we are seeking the city which is to come” (Heb 13:14).

Of course, Hebrews is written particularly for those steeped in Jewish religion, but it is telling that so much of this speaks to just how those ancient altars would have been understood, and speaks as well to how we should, in our own day, understand the purpose and nature of the Church.

But I want to stay with these ancient altars a bit longer.  I would observe that as the nation began to take shape, with its people taken out of Egypt and making their way to the Promised Land, God provides some rather specific instructions as to how any further altars are to be made.  It is telling that those instructions begin with a comparative note.  “You shall not make other gods besides Me; gods of silver or gods of gold, you shall not make for yourselves” (Ex 20:23).  What, then, does God desire?  “You shall make an altar of earth for Me, and you shall sacrifice on it your burnt offerings and your peace offerings, your sheep and your oxen; in every place where I cause My name to be remembered, I will come to you and bless you” (Ex 20:24).  Notice the purpose.  It is twofold.  Here is a place of sacrifices, which is at the forefront of the purpose for these altars.  Are they places of remembrance?  Absolutely!  God declares as much:  “In every place where I cause My name to be remembered…”  But observe the promise here.  They are places where God’s people and God shall meet.  There is something special about these altars and the places they mark.  They are God’s chosen locations, God’s chosen bridges, if you will, between heaven and earth.  Now, don’t get all magical mystical on me.  That’s not the point.  The point is that these are matters of God’s choosing.

Observe the continued instruction:  “And if you make an altar of stone for Me, you shall not build it with cut stones, for if you wield your tool on it you will profane it.  And you shall not go up by steps to My altar, that your nakedness may not be exposed on it” (Ex 20:25-26).  It’s not a matter of your workmanship, and in no way should you be calling attention to yourself by the altar.  As to that matter of exposing your nakedness, I think it would be impossible not to see reference to Canaanite practices, where altars were often places for public sexual display.  But there is something, too, of simply remembering modesty and humility before God.  Combine it with the matter of using uncut stone.  There’s a message in that:  Your idea of beauty and God’s idea of beauty are probably very different things; and this business of altars and temples and church is not a matter of your tastes.  It’s a matter of God’s instructions.

As concerns that defining of Church, this, I think, is our central lesson from the age of altars.  The message is not that we must never build edifices.  After all, we shall see edifices of great splendor ordered up by God, in the temple of Solomon, the temple described by Ezekiel, and even the temple depicted in Revelation.  The edifice is not an issue, nor is the craftsmanship put into the edifice a matter of insignificance.  The central matter to keep in view is simply this:  The altar is a place of remembrance, a place to be reminded of all that God has said by way of certain promise.  It is an assurance.  He said it and He will do it.  It is also a place of sacrifice, and those sacrifices are not solely guilt offerings for our breech of covenant terms, but also for thanksgiving for blessings recognized from the hand of God.  We might better term them offerings, because sacrifice always has a rather negative connotation to it.  It’s not that we come to the altar to do something that hurts, although that may sometimes be the case.  I don’t mean causing ourselves physical harm, but it has to be said that the thing sacrificed came at cost, and that cost will not be recouped.  There is material loss to us in the sacrifice, but surely it is outweighed by spiritual gain.  But there are also those offerings made as matters of rejoicing.  These are celebratory gifts given to a God worthy of celebration.  It strikes me that each of those altars we see the patriarchs building marks a cause for celebration, not for penitential atonements.

There was then, and ever shall be ample cause for atonement with us, and there shall ever be a place for penitence.  But the altar, it strikes me, is far more about joy, and about that shocking opportunity afforded us by God to come and meet with Him.

All that being said, observe the notice given:  Build according to My instructions, or don’t build at all.  If you take it upon yourself to fashion the thing after your standards and by your workmanship, you will not have improved it.  You will have defiled it.  There’s a them we’ll see carry through later developments in the defining of the physical plant of the Church.  There will be a place, to be sure, for craftsmanship, but it shall follow God’s design or it shall be defilement.

ii. The Tabernacle of Moses

[09/08/20]

The tabernacle presents us with the first real physical structure of a church that moves beyond personal remembrance.  Yes, the altars that Abraham and sons built were certainly visible reminders to others besides themselves, but they were first and foremost personal in their significance, reminders of personal encounters with God and personal promises from God.  Coming to the tabernacle, the scope is wider.  It is for the whole people of God, and observe God’s purpose in calling for its creation.  “Let them construct a sanctuary for Me, that I may dwell among them” (Ex 25:8).

Okay, let’s be clear about one thing straight from the outset here.  God is not in need of protection.  The sanctuary is not a place where He can hide away from harm.  Neither is this to indicate that were it not for this thing He is calling for, He would not be present with His people.  This is, after all, still a period in history when God was quite visibly with His people, present as a quite discernable pillar of fire by night and a pillar of cloud by day.  There was no missing His presence.  So, what was this about, then?  There is something of permanence in this idea of dwelling.  It’s funny.  This series of British house-hunting shows we’ve been watching has a bit of a refrain one hears from the hunters.  They are looking for their ‘forever home’.  You may hear similar talk in regard to pet adoptions.  But seriously?  Somebody has a pretty short perspective on eternity!  Here, though, God is really saying something of the kind.  It may seem odd, given He’s effectively describing a tent, but here’s the message of the tabernacle in simplest form:  Wherever you go, I AM with you.  Here, as with the altars of old, is a very visible reminder of this promise.  The permanent home, such as it is, is mobile, as the people of God are mobile.  But it is also, as we shall see, to be central.  But let me hold that thought for its proper place.

First, let’s recognize the emphasis placed on getting this structure right.  The instructions for its construction and its operation cover several chapters of Exodus, beginning in chapter 25.  In point of fact, apart from the horror of Israel’s idolatry right there at the foot of Mount Sinai even as all this is happening, from chapter 25 right through to the end of Exodus in chapter 40 is nothing but tabernacle; first the instructions for its form, and then the execution of those instructions.  God apparently cares rather deeply about His house of worship.  Perhaps that should bear some weight with us when we incline to dismiss it as irrelevant.

Let’s look briefly into the particulars, though.  The first instruction goes toward establishing a place to preserve the tablets of the Law inscribed in stone by God Himself.  Recognize what this is about.  God is a covenant God, and that Law describes the terms and requirements of His covenant with His people.  The ark would bear that tablet, a reminder to the people, yes, but also a testimony to God, and above the container of that testimony of terms would be the mercy seat; the kapporeth, or propitiary.  The BDB observes that the idea here has to do with the covering over of sin, and only thus is there a sense of this being a lid of some sort.  Over this stretched the wings of two cherubim, covering what was effectively the throne of God, at least in representative form.  Both form and materials for this central feature – as indeed for all the features of the tabernacle – are specified.  All will be acacia wood and gold overlay.

To go with the ark, there is a table upon which is to be ‘the bread of the Presence’ (Ex 25:30).  As well, there is a lampstand to be made, its form quite specific, as also, the oil that would be burned in it.  The number of lamps come up as seven – the number of perfection.  The tabernacle itself would consist of ten curtains of linen, purple and scarlet.  Here, too, there would be cherubim depicted.  Again, the dimensions and arrangement of these curtain walls is quite specific, right down to the number of loops on the edge by which they would be hung.  Posts and kickboards of a sort are specified, and also a waterproof covering of porpoise skins laid over an inner covering of ram skins.  This, I have to say, seems eminently practical – providing a bit of thermal protection as well as waterproofing.  We add a veil, of the same style as the curtain walls.  This veil, we learn, is set to partition the holy of holies from the holy place (Ex 26:33).  Within the holy of holies are the ark, the table, and the lampstand.  Here, only the high priest may enter, and only according to God’s set schedule, and only with incense obscuring his view of the mercy seat.

There would be a courtyard set around the tabernacle, with an altar for burnt offerings.  The whole picture is of a place of increasing sanctity as one comes nearer the ark.  Then, too, there is great detail as to the clothing to be worn by the priests, the incense which is to be offered, the oil that is for the lamps, and the equipment used to transport this portable temple when the nation moved.
    Even the particular workmen who are to have charge of seeing this all done are specified by name.  And here, as I have had cause to observe on several occasions, we find the earliest reference to God sending the Holy Spirit to rest upon somebody, that being Bezalel, son of Uri, of the tribe of Judah (Ex 31:2), of whom God says, “I have filled him with the Spirit of God in wisdom, in understanding, in knowledge, and in all kinds of craftsmanship, to make artistic designs for work in gold, in silver, and in bronze, and in the cutting of stones for settings, and in the carving of wood, that he may work in all kinds of craftsmanship” (Ex 31:3-5).

Now, at first glance, it might seem that this runs entirely counter to God’s instruction about making altars.  After all, the two altars He calls for in this tabernacle are both matters of craft.  But observe again that the craftsman He has called into position has been filled with His own Spirit in order that his workmanship may not, in this instance, defile the work.  And so, the work was done in accordance with God’s instruction by the men of His choosing.  All was assembled according to God’s instruction, and offerings were made upon the altar.  “Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle” (Ex 40:34).  Even Moses could not enter.

Harking back to the initial point about the tabernacle, consider the closing words of Exodus.  “And throughout all their journeys whenever the cloud was taken up from over the tabernacle, the sons of Israel would set out; but if the cloud was not taken up, then they did not set out until the day when it was taken up.  For throughout all their journeys, the cloud of the LORD was on the tabernacle by day, and there was fire in it by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel” (Ex 40:36-38).  This is beautiful.  This is God with us.  This is the promise of certainty for a nomadic people.  This is also God demonstrably more significant than the gods of the surrounding nations, whose gods, as they thought, were attached to specific regions.  The God of Israel was God wherever He was.  He still is.

[09/09/20]

There is another aspect of the tabernacle that I think deserves attention as we consider what defines the church.  That is the centrality of the tabernacle to the organization of life.  When Israel set out on the march, the tabernacle, properly packed and borne by those assigned to that duty, was in the midst of the tribes – central and present to all, and also guarded on every side.  When Israel made camp, the tabernacle was the hub from which the tribes spread out in their assigned places.

If we were to look in on the ordering of life in Puritan New England, we would find a very similar mindset on display.  The center of every town and village was her church.  There was no city hall, now meeting hall.  There was the church.  In many towns, I would observe, there was also covenant entered into; the settling of that town and coming together as a community taking on an almost holy cast.  Looking further, it would be noted that the distance required to reach the church became the primary cause for establishing a new town.  If travel for Sunday worship had become too great an issue, then perhaps it was time we put up a new church and establish a new town.  I dare say consideration may have been given as to whether there was sufficient population to support this new church, but it is striking to me that the more central concern seems to have gone the other direction:  The church was too distant to support the population.

In our day and age, when families might well travel a good hour at speed to reach the church they find suits their understanding of what church should be, this is rather stunning.  There really wasn’t much one could do by way of church shopping back then.  There was the town.  There was the church.  You live here, you go there.  End of story, really.  There was something more of a need for people to learn to come together than we find today, and that is most clearly to our loss, both civilly and religiously.

But the tabernacle set forth an example that would persist.  The tabernacle, the place where God has chosen to meet with His people, is central to the life of His people.  We have, then, this twofold emphasis to carry forward as we proceed.  First, the church, the place of worship is to be established according to God’s design, not man’s ideas; and its operation, its schedule, its programs and so on, are to be according to God’s design, not man’s ideas.  I need not point up the example of Aaron’s sons, who thought to do things their way, and perished for their effrontery.

Second, the church is to be central to the life of the Christian.  It is to be cherished and guarded, as each member takes up his or her assigned role – roles not according to the whims and dictates of novelty, but according to the gifts and guidance of our Lord, who is the Head of the Church.  That does not preclude governance in the house of God, nor does it mean there are no rules except to follow the Spirit, whatever that may mean to any given individual.  As we are led by the Spirit, we recognize as well that those we join as the church body are likewise led by the Spirit, and we recognize the wisdom of Scripture in reminding us, “Without consultation, plans are frustrated, but with many counselors they succeed” (Pr 15:22).  “The mind of man plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps” (Pr 16:9).  For all that I have trouble remembering exactly where those verses are in Proverbs, they have been two verses that have stuck with me over the years, indeed the first few I ever undertook to highlight in my Bible.

Here, however, it is the idea of spiritual counsel.  The mind of man, accepting none but the internal voice presumed to be the Spirit, has set himself in a dangerous place.  Indeed, the tendency to accept no outside counsel is already a marker that something is not quite right.  God, seeing our finitude, supplies us with a multiplicity of voices, a people come together, rather than acting as solo agents, in order that, should one err in judgment, he will be rescued by the corrective voice of his co-laborers.  There is governance, and in part because the Church, in its living, growing state, is composed of individuals with varied gifts and varied stages of maturity.  Many a child thinks himself wise beyond his years, but the wise adult sees his foolishness and trains him, protects him from himself, as it were, until real wisdom has a chance to form.

Observe the camp of the people of God.  It was not every man for himself, nor even every tribe according to its lights.  When there was any question, there was one place to turn for answer:  Seek God.  And where were they to seek God?  In the place He had established wherein to be sought.  Come to the tabernacle, the place where God has chosen to make His presence known amidst His people; the place where He has promised to abide and remain with His people.  And not only is He tagging along as they wander, He is their guide along the way.  Solomon would later write, “There is an appointed time for everything.  And there is a time for every event under heaven” (Ecc 3:1).  We are familiar enough with the course of that passage, having heard it sung lo, these many years.  Come on.  I know your mind echoed the refrain, “turn, turn, turn”, so soon as you heard that verse start.

But observe the reason there is an appointed time.  There is One who appoints, and His appointment is sure, certain.  We can, and in our foolishness we do, seek to ignore His appointments, to go our own way, to steal from another song of our youth.  But the fact of the matter is that what God has determined is going to happen.  We can frustrate ourselves fighting against His purpose, or we can actively seek to perceive and align with His purpose, in order that it may go well with us.  I think of Gamaliel’s unheeded advice to the Sanhedrin at the birth of Christianity.  “I say to you, stay away from these men and let them alone, for if this plan or action should be of men, it will be overthrown; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them; or else you may even be found fighting against God” (Ac 5:38-39).  Sobering words, those.  And perhaps, sound advice for us in our tendency to kick against the goads of church governance, and denominational conflict.

It is hubris, in the end, to think we have the final, perfectly correct answer on every topic (or any topic, for all that), as concerns the infinite, holy God.  It is well that we know what we know, but we must also recognize the distinction between what we know and what we only surmise.  There is significant room for error on our part, and if we have so advanced that we can no longer accept that premise, then it has to be recognized that we have not so much advanced as stiffened.  We must do our utmost to discern the Truth God has chosen to reveal, but it is a pursuit to be done in all humility, not resting on our former findings, but resting wholly upon God to speak through His Word and to correct His child as needed.

That, I should think, constitutes rather a wide, looping diversion from the topic of the tabernacle, but as the thought has connected, so it is recorded here.  Here is the place and the means by which God has chosen to direct and guide His people.  In that period, it was the mobile platform of the tabernacle, guiding a mobile people.  In due course, it would become the settled location of Shechem, and later Jerusalem.  As we shall see, the settling of locations had its own issues for God’s people, as they once again took their views from surrounding cultures rather than God’s revelation.  But the idea of centrality, of a hub from which the life of God’s people should spread and to which it should return, is an idea that rightly continues through all the ages of the development of God’s Church.

iii. Solomon’s Temple

[09/10/20]

As we look at the first temple, we again find quite similar themes emerging.  Here, it seems the desire for a permanent structure in which to worship begins with a man, with king David.  To be sure, here was a man who, though imperfect, had proven himself God’s man.  Indeed, he remains the model believer in the eyes of Scripture, so well loved by God as to have obtained yet another promise:  that Israel would never lack a king from his lineage.  And, as with other promises given the Old Testament community, that promise finds its fulfillment in Christ our Lord.  This should tell us something about the nature of God’s promises, I should think.  They may have their earthly realization in one form or another, but those earthly realizations are but down payments on real fulfillment, which is ever heavenward.

So yes, we have a temple which, by appearances at least, begins as a thought in David’s mind, and one he was in position to pursue, being ruler of the kingdom of Israel at its height.  But a man after God’s own heart must surely seek God’s own will, and so he does.  God approves the idea, but not the means.  Solomon would be the one to achieve the construction rather than David, and God gives His reasons.  David, for all that he held to God and followed God’s instruction, was a man of bloodshed, a warrior seasoned by many battles.  These battles were not unholy, I should stress, but that did not shift the impact of battle upon the men who fought.  The shedding of the blood of man, even under such justified and even commanded conditions, remains subject to the Law of God, which insists, “Thou shalt not murder” (Ex 20:13).  Observe the expansion on that topic.  “If a man takes the life of any human being, he shall surely be put to death” (Lev 24:17).  It is often noted that the scope of this particular section of the Law was to limit retribution, but the two aspects work together.  Bloodshed is not righteous, cannot be made righteous even by righteous cause.

So David, while honored for his achievements, and established as not merely king, but dynastic king of Israel for all time, was not the man to build a holy place for God, even by proxy.  After all, he would not have been doing the work himself, only commissioning and paying for it.  But by God’s direct insistence, it would not be David, but his son Solomon who saw to the building of the temple.  “When your days are complete and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your descendant after you, who will come forth from you, and I will establish his kingdom.  He shall build a house for My name, and I will establish the throne of his kingdom forever” (1Ki 7:12-13).  This is actually part and parcel of the promise of dynasty.  “Your house and your kingdom shall endure before Me forever; your throne shall be established forever” (1Ki 7:16). 

Let us go back a bit earlier, as this is Solomon’s recounting.  David felt it unacceptable that he lived in a fine building, and God remained in the tent of the tabernacle, and at first, the response seemed quite positive.  Nathan, serving as God’s prophet, spoke well of the plan and urged David on.  But God sent a different message.  “Are you the one who should build Me a house to dwell in?” (2Sa 7:5).  God makes His point.  “Wherever I have gone with all the sons of Israel, did I speak a word with one of the tribes of Israel, which I commanded to shepherd My people Israel, saying ‘Why have you not built Me a house of cedar?’” (2Sa 7:7).  Here’s the deal, David.  “I will also appoint a place for My people Israel and I will plant them, that they may live in their own place and not be disturbed again, nor will the wicked afflict them any more as formerly” (2Sa 7:10).  Then comes the promise we saw reiterated in 1Kings.

Now, I should have to observe that much transpires between David’s expressing the desire to build God a temple and Solomon actually starting the work.  And most of what transpires is not particularly positive.  Recognize that at the time the promise was given, Solomon was not yet conceived, and in fact, David was not yet aware of Bathsheba.  That comes after this promise, as does the rebellion of Absalom, David’s temporary evacuation from Jerusalem, and his eventual restoration.  The seeds of Israel’s division post-Solomon are already being planted.  But eventually, Solomon is in fact declared successor to David, and in the fourth year of his reign, he undertakes to see the temple constructed.

That construction, as with the construction of the tabernacle, is to be done per God’s direction, and follows, actually, a fairly similar plan, although built of stronger and finer materials.  It has to be said, that the tabernacle, for all its temporariness, survived for several hundred years before this temple was established.  But the temple has many of the same features.  It has the holy of holies separate from the holy place, the surrounding courtyards.  It has, if one observes carefully, the same orientation. 

This is, I think, noteworthy.  Go back to the original tabernacle, for just a moment.  This could almost pass notice, but even the orientation of temple and courtyard were quite specific.  God instructs that the rear of the tabernacle itself shall be to the west (Ex 26:22), and likewise, the courtyard around the temple is arranged with its entrance to the east (Ex 27:9-15), but with a screen before the gate.  Now, I do not see it specified, but from the ruins it seems to hold that the same eastward orientation pertains here.  I bring this up primarily because there is noise made about the eastward orientation of old catholic cathedrals and the like being modeled after Babylonian practices, but that seems more an effort to discredit church history than anything of real significance.

Let me put it quite simply.  We have express instruction from God as to the eastward orientation of the tabernacle, and that would appear to have been understood as an important aspect of those instructions, carried forward into the temple construction here, and again in Herod’s later building.  I shall have to observe whether Ezekiel’s envisioned temple follows the same pattern.  But, even if we had only the explicit instruction for the tabernacle, it would be the appropriate template to follow for all later iterations, unless God later shifted the orientation with equal specificity.  That fact that Babylon chose the same orientation for their idolatrous edifices should really not surprise us all that much.  After all, idolatry is the work of the devil, who has chosen counterfeiting of the true holy model as his chief emphasis.  How could he do otherwise, if his goal is to pry away true believers from worshiping God?  If his pattern deviates too much from the true pattern, the deceit becomes obvious, and the capacity to destroy is severely limited.  So, it seems to me that it should seem rather natural that this populace, for all their mysticism, would ape the true pattern, especially if, as posited by this offended group, their religion is seeded by Nimrod who himself branches away from God’s people.

[09/11/20]

But let me try and get back on point and consider what this new temple tells us.  First, we may discern that it is not only acceptable for the place of worship to be beautiful, but truly fitting.  However, beauty is not to be determined by the opinions of man, which are ever changing.  Beauty is determined by God, Who is ever the same.  To the degree that He has established a pattern for the place He would be worshiped, we are wise to retain that pattern until and unless He specifically addresses changes to be made.  It is not a sin to propose to honor God as we may, by making that which we speak of as His house glorious, for He is glorious.  It is, however, a sin to proceed where God has said we should stop.  David had the desire and the means, but God chose to delay construction until the later reign of Solomon.  That being the situation, had David proceeded to build the exact same temple that Solomon eventually built, it would have been a sin to David, and an affront to God.  The best urges of man remain, apart from God’s blessings, sinful.

There is something I see continued from tabernacle to temple, and which I dare say ought to continue throughout time.  God is to be recognized as holy, as utterly holy.  His purity is not some fragile thing that must be kept away from us lest we somehow defile and destroy it by our imperfections.  Rather, it is recognition that for our imperfections to draw so near His perfect purity must destroy us.  This is easily lost.  God did not demark the Holy of holies to avoid man.  He did so to preserve man.  It was an act of utmost kindness that He should thus be with His people and yet separated from them for their safety.

How should this transfer to the new covenant, or should it?  We recognize, as we must, for it is quite explicit, that the veil which separated the Holy of holies from the sanctuary at large is done away.  And we are invited, even commanded, to come before the throne of God, which is what the ark and its mercy seat represented.  We have our High Priest in Christ Jesus, as we are told rather forcefully – an eternal High Priest, whose office is perpetual.  He enters the Holy of holies on our behalf, bearing our prayers and petitions to the throne, offering Himself as sacrifice to atone for our sins, to obtain our peace, and to express our thanksgivings.  So, in some respects at least, yes, we are now able to enter the Holy of holies, if not physically, then spiritually.  But we have yet a Mediator between us and the purity of God’s holiness – the Man, Christ Jesus.  To approach apart from His mediating righteousness remains certain death to sinful man.

What I come down to is this.  If we allow our access to become a triviality, or an assumption of equality, as if that were any real possibility to us, we put ourselves at great risk.  Consider the correction given the Corinthians in regard to their cavalier approach to communion.  They had made it just another meal, another party.  It was more of picnic than any sort of remembrance of God.  The result?  “For this reason many among you are weak and sick, and a number sleep” (1Co 11:30).  Does this, then, suggest that where sickness and death are found, the church is dealing with some form of corporate sin?  No.  The body, as I believe we have discussed previously, remains under the sentence of death for its corruptions.  But we have also come to know that life, real life, consists in the spirit of the man, and is eternal – for better or for worse.  What I see in this reprimand is a reminder of what we are about when we come to temple in our modern-day equivalent.  We have come to meet with God, to give Him the sacrifices He is due, which is our whole selves given in service and in praise.  We have come to give Him our worship, in accordance with His instruction, and to receive His instruction in accordance with His Word.  There is much more to say about what it means to go to church, but at present, I want to stick with what we are shown in this model of the temple.

I will offer another lesson to take firmly to heart.  As significant as it is to have a place to gather in worship, and as wonderful as it is that this place is to be a thing of beauty and inspiring awe, we must be careful of our response to place.  Prior to the temple, there had been a period where God chose Shechem as the place where He would meet His people.  But place became idol, and God had to abandon that place lest His people become superstitious shadows of their rightful being.  Jerusalem in due course suffered the same issue.  God had established His temple here, and thus the people reasoned that there was no way He would allow Jerusalem to fall prey to surrounding nations, for such a thing would indicate He lacked the power to preserve His own chosen spot.

Understand that such thinking reflected nothing of God’s revelation and everything of surrounding culture.  This was the belief of the Canaanite and the Moabite and this ite and the other ite.  Gods were regional and in conflict, and every battle of man gave evidence of whose god was more powerful.  We see it play out over and over again.  If they suffer defeat in the valleys, move to the mountains because apparently Israel’s God is a valley god.  If He cannot be defeated here, take the battle there.  And over and over again, God demonstrates rather forcefully that He is not bound to place.  But in spite of all that, we find the people shouting, “The temple!  The temple!” as if this were some sort of talisman by which they could be assured that no harm would come to them.  And there is always that underlying reason for wanting such assurance:  That they might sin as they please without fear of repercussions.

Nothing much has changed with humanity.  The Christian is not magically immune to such thinking.  We may be seeing something of that with the current seeming disintegration of the civilized world.  Certainly, there was a period when the British, at the height of empire, were sure they were God’s chosen, and therefore all but invincible.  But they were vinced.  America at present has something of the same disease.  We are the shining city on a hill!  God has chosen this place as His last bastion, surely He will preserve us come what may.  But history says otherwise.  God is not bound by place, and He is perfectly able to preserve His church without preserving a particular nation.  To assume otherwise is to presume upon grace.

God will be recognized as holy, and worshiped as being holy.  He will be honored as He truly is, served as He truly is, and rejoiced in as He truly is.  I think of those instructions given for feast days and holy days – even the Day of Atonement.  These were not times for bedraggled, sorrowful moaning.  They were times to rejoice because God truly is upon His throne and watching the affairs of His people.  But He is not only watching as a passive observer.  He is watching as a loving parent – as our Father.  He is not fearful of reprimanding us when that is needful, nor of disciplining us if we are slow to pick up on His reprimands.  He will be recognized as holy, and He will have His people recognizably holy.  He has called forth a holy nation of royal priests (1Pe 2:9), but not from some specific locality or from some specific race or tribe.  His nation is drawn from all races, all tribes, across all time.  They are not holy because of their roots but because of His choice.  They are not priests by choice but by appointment.  They do not serve according to their desires but according to His commandment.  To do otherwise is to risk once more the same corrective destruction that was visited upon the temple, and upon that people who insisted the presence of the temple would preserve them no matter how they lived.

iv. Ezekiel’s Temple

This may be as good a time as any to transition to consideration of Ezekiel’s temple.  But I would start that consideration with his visions of what was happening in the temple back in Jerusalem.  This, of necessity, comes not by physical, first hand experience, for Ezekiel is in exile along with the bulk of the nation.  He is in a far land, but God is still near.  As I observed earlier, He is by no means bound by geography or edifice.  What does He show Ezekiel?  Some twenty-five men are at the entrance of the temple, but they do not direct their worship towards God, but rather bow to the east, toward the sun (Eze 8:16).  Are they participating in some form of sun worship?  Not impossible, certainly.  Sun gods are common enough, and idolatry insidious enough.  This was too much.  God had already affected so great a punishment upon Israel that she might turn and return to the right course, but here they were, as He says, ‘putting the twig to their nose’ (Eze 8:17).  They are practically taunting God, daring Him to do anything about it.  There is a destruction of the temple decreed, and death – first for those elders who led the people astray, but also for those who allowed themselves to be so led.  “'Utterly slay old men, young men, maidens, little children, and women, but do not touch any man on whom is the mark; and you shall start from My sanctuary.’  So they started with the elders who were before the temple” (Eze 9:6).

This scene is perhaps more of a piece with considering Solomon’s temple, but it is transitional and I choose to consider it here, as God has caused its end to be noted here in Ezekiel, as well as presenting the vision for a temple restored.  But much transpires in his ministry between this vision of destruction and the vision of rebuilding.  At this stage, what is clear is that there is a significant transition.  It is as if God is saying this cannot be repaired, it must be reformed entirely.  It must come to an end, and a new temple, a new system be established in its place.  I would also say that this is not something fulfilled by Nehemiah’s efforts upon the return of the people to Israel, nor was it fulfilled by Herod’s efforts to make a splendid edifice. 

In Nehemiah’s case, it is not that he operated in defiance of God’s plans.  By no means!  His efforts were clearly undertaken with God’s blessings and guided by God’s provision.  But what he caused to be built was effectively a shadow of the former temple.  We read of the people weeping when it was completed, not because they were so happy to see it fully reestablished, although no doubt they were happy to see that, and rightfully so.  No, the tears were sorrow for what had been lost, for what was rebuilt did not begin to recapture the glory of what had been before.

There, too, is a lesson for us.  Seeking to rebuild what was will never amount to much more than apery and will never succeed in properly reproducing the glorious past.  For one, the past was never quite so glorious as we tend to make it out to be.  If Solomon’s temple had been truly glorious, there would have been no cause for its destruction or the nation’s exile.  Attempting to go back in terms of how we worship are about as beneficial to the life of the body as was Israel’s desire to go back to Egypt when things got difficult out in the wilderness.

As to Herod’s temple, well, what need we say?  He certainly didn’t build it out of any desire to honor God.  If anything, he was seeking to honor himself, to make a name for himself.  In this, he shows himself akin to the people of Shinar, who built a temple to their own glory in the tower that came to be called Babel (Ge 11:1-9).  There may have been a side note of seeking to ingratiate the Jews he ruled, for a peaceful kingdom was the key to successful rule under Roman authority.  If this is what it took to keep the rabble in their place, it was a small enough sacrifice.  And maybe, just maybe, it would make life in this hot backwater of a place tolerable.  I don’t think there is really much of anything the Church needs to take away from Herod’s efforts apart from simply this:  Beware your purpose.  Are you building to honor God or self?  That is a message that goes well beyond physical plant, and must inform all our living, and why we do what we do, whether in service to church or in service to society.

[09/12/20]

I have to say that scanning Ezekiel’s description of what he saw in vision as to the new structures in Jerusalem, I find it difficult to truly picture the resultant building.  It would be tempting to suggest the details really aren’t that significant, but if that were so, I should have to wonder why God chose to spend so much effort in having them described.  After all, the description given to Ezekiel is bracketed by instructions to see to it that it is written down and described in full to God’s people.  That said, this really isn’t the place for a detailed exploration of the temple plans.

I would focus on a couple of points, and the first is that which comes at the very end.  “Then he led me to the gate, the gate facing toward the east; and behold, the glory of the God of Israel was coming from the way of the east. […]   And the glory of the LORD came into the house by the way of the gate facing toward the east” (Eze 43:1-4).  While it would seem that this new structure differs significantly from that which Solomon had caused to be built, this much has not changed:  The entryway remains to the east.  To be fair, it seems there are gates in each direction here, but here is where the LORD enters:  From the east.

But observe the message that follows.  “Son of man, this is the place of My throne and the place of the soles of My feet, where I will dwell among the sons of Israel forever.  And the house of Israel will not again defile My holy name, neither they nor their kings, by their harlotry and by the corpses of their kings when they die” (Eze 43:7).  That eternal permanence must inform our understanding of Ezekiel’s vision.  This is not some earthly temple that he has seen.  This is not the earthly Jerusalem.  In fact, I would suggest that note regarding the corpses of kings suggests that this is not the present physical realm at all.  I might suggest that what Ezekiel is describing is that which John much later described in his vision; the new creation come into being, and the LORD resident therein.

Here is what strikes me at this moment, in regard to applying this temple vision to our own understanding of church.  In the end, this marvelous communion with God, whereby He dwells among His sons and daughters is not a function of there being a place for Him to come down out of heaven, but rather a function of Him having drawn His children up into heaven.  That is to say, what Ezekiel is observing is not yet another approximation of the heavenly temple, but rather the heavenly temple itself.  This is a tempting interpretation of events, but I am not entirely confident of it.  As I say, though, the message is of a permanent dwelling of God with man, man with God, and that most certainly does not find a fulfillment in structures of stone and wood.  We are seeing something greater.

I think I might add this observation in regard to the priesthood and God’s instruction to them.  Here again, a great deal is written which I am not going to explore in detail.  I want to see this point.  “And it shall be with regard to an inheritance for them, that I am their inheritance; and you shall give them no possession in Israel – I am their possession” (Eze 44:28).  Take this forward to Peter’s observation of the entire people of God as a nation of royal priests, what we would term the priesthood of all believers, and what do we observe?  God, in Christ, is our inheritance and our possession.  Our lives here are to be lived as Abraham’s sons, as sojourners in the land.  Here is temporary.  There is permanence.  Here, all is on loan, however steadfast it may seem.  There, God dwells with us and we with Him forever, and death itself is banished.

But again, how does this inform our understanding of the church?  I see that I am driving toward my next section on this topic, but let this serve as a transition of sorts.  This place of God’s dwelling is to be holy, to be recognized as off limits to fallen man, to the stranger and the foreigner amongst the people of God.  It is to be guarded against all defilement because it is the place where God resides.  Again, bear Peter’s depiction of the Church in mind, or Paul’s for that matter.  This church of living stones, built of the lives of saints, is to be kept holy.  This is our daily struggle, and it has to be said that it is only by the cleansing blood of Christ that anything about our present lives could be accounted acceptable in this regard.  But there is a powerful impetus for purity in recognizing that “you are a temple of God […] the Spirit of God dwells in you” (1Co 3:16).  Hear the admonition that follows.  “If any man destroys the temple of God, God will destroy him, for the temple of God is holy, and that is what you are” (1Co 3:17).  This theme caries through the letter, and even into the second letter to that church.  It seems to me we ought to find it rather important to understand and internalize.

v. The Temple of Flesh

[09/13/20]

My choice of terms for the heading in this section may be a bit of-putting, but it conveys the point well enough.  We arrive at a new concept with the ministry of Christ.  I noted in previous sections how Israel had shown a propensity for thinking the place holy rather than God who sanctified the place by His choosing of it.  Thus, Shechem became an idolatrous site because the people lost sight of why the place was important, and supposed that the place itself was the reason.  Jerusalem with its temple suffered this same abuse, and that repeatedly.  The exile to Babylon was of a piece with that mindset which had decided that the temple being in Jerusalem meant nothing could befall the city regardless how vile its inhabitants had become.  God corrected that misapprehension, but it arose again in later centuries.  One has but to read the accounts of Jerusalem’s fall to Rome’s armies to see just how depraved the people could be, all the while supposing the temple would prevent their ruin.  It didn’t.  Rather the people, by their increasing sinfulness, ensured the ruin of the temple.

But Jesus comes and declares a new order has arrived.  The edifice will no longer serve because the edifice has shown itself repeatedly to be subject to idolization.  But let us recognize something quite clearly.  Jesus did not despise the temple, for the temple, at root, was emblematic of the throne room of God, and as such, His own divine abode.  His offense was not at the old order, but at the twisted mess that had been made of it.  The Court of the Gentiles, established in pursuit of God’s eternal intent to reach the nations, had been made a marketplace, a profit center for the priestly order, and the noisiness of the place absolutely precluded any proper worshipfulness.  So we find Him twice coming to clear all that noisome corruption out of the temple.  “Stop making My Father’s house a house of merchandise” (Jn 2:16).  This, needless to say, caused some consternation amongst the officials whose profits He threatened.  On what authority do You act.  And the ever-popular refrain with them.  “What sign do You show us?” (Jn 2:17).  Prove you have the right to rebuke us, you upstart!  How does He reply?  “Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up” (Jn 2:19).  They mistook His meaning as a threat upon their beloved edifice, but John clarifies.  “He was speaking of the temple of His body” (Jn 2:21).  It’s not that the disciples understood any better than the officials what He was getting at, but in time, they would remember and understand.

Now, stop there and we have a new temple in the Person of Christ, but that is not the intention.  Rather, Jesus the Man demonstrates the intent of man, the plan of God for what man should be.  Thus, as I observed yesterday, Paul speaks of this temple of the body, or what I have been calling the temple of flesh.  Here we discover the reason for God’s great offense with immorality, with sexual sin.  “Flee immorality.  Every other sin that a man commits is outside the body, but the immoral man sins against his own body.”  And here’s the point.  “Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own?  For you have been bought with a price:  Therefore glorify God in your body” (1Co 6:18-20).

What a message!  But if we back up just a bit on our effort to define things, and ask, “What is a temple?” the point made becomes almost obvious.  A temple is, almost by definition, the place of God’s dwelling.  It is the place we go because God is there.  To what degree this was held to be true amongst the pagan temples, I will not attempt to give answer, but certainly in the Jewish sensibility, this was what the temple was about.  “I will make My dwelling there, and be amidst My people forever.” It’s not all that shocking that they should mistake the point and think the edifice signified unalterable safety.  After all, God is not one to renege on His word.  One could almost go so far as to find a note of God-honoring perspective even in their error.  Almost.  But John’s reminder applies there, as well.  The temple is not about the edifice.  It’s about God.  “He was speaking of the temple of His body.”

Now take this conception of the temple, and consider the New Covenant state wherein Jesus,  having ascended into heaven has sent the Holy Spirit to indwell His people.  Where is it that God dwells amongst His people?  It is in the temple.  So then, is the Holy Spirit God?  Why, yes, He is.  Does He indwell you?  Why, yes, He does.  What, then, does that make you?  Your body, indwelt by God in the Person of the Holy Spirit is, by very definition a temple.  Where else would God dwell?

So, where do we go with this?  I think Paul’s comment most telling.  “You are not your own.”  Recall the extensive detail given s to the construction and operation of tabernacle and temple in their turn.  Clearly, God has significant interest in how He is worshiped in what is effectively His house.  Clearly, God has every right to dictate terms.  It’s His house, after all.  Do you not feel perfectly within your rights to declare how things are going to be arranged and how they are going to be done in your own house?  But your body is not your own.  You are not your own.  You have become, by God’s choosing, a temple, housing the Holy Spirit, and that has significance.  It means how you build your life, how you live your life henceforth is not really yours to determine.

I could go back to those occasions where we find God giving names to individuals.  He names Adam.  He assigns new names to Abram and Sarai, declaring them to be Abraham and Sarah.  He changes Jacob’s name (and nature) to Israel.  He insists the Zachariah shall name his son John.  He informs Joseph that the son to be born to Mary shall be named Jesus.  What’s going on here?  To name is to establish authority over that which is named.  There is a reason Adam was tasked with naming the animals, and it is entirely in keeping with the creation mandate to have dominion over all the beasts of the earth.

Why do I bring this up?  Because it informs the temple of the body.  This was not in fact some new novelty that Jesus had brought to religion, but rather, it was the underlying truth of religion all along.  Abraham predates the whole record of physical structures devoted to God.  He and Sarah are declared the shared root by faith of all who belong to God.  What have we got from the outset, then?  We have a temple of flesh, devoted to God, given over to His use and direction.  Yes, Abraham performs imperfectly, as do we.  Yes, there would be failings aplenty, and seeds of disaster that continue to unfold into the present day, but the model was established.  I would say it was established even farther back, with Adam and Eve, with whom God walked in the garden.  There has, then, been a temple of flesh just as long as there has been flesh.

So, how does this inform our understanding of the question, “What is church?”  Well, it certainly must diminish the standing of any physical plant, I should think.  It doesn’t diminish it to insignificance, for the physical plant remains an edifice dedicated to the glory of God.  Solomon and David before him were not wrong to desire to see a temple built for God, nor did God countermand the order.  He simply made it clear that said temple would be to His specifications else it would be no temple at all.

As to the church growing in the period of the New Testament and the decades immediately following, it does not appear that there were temples per se, particularly because the Christian Church, even in its infancy, was despised and rejected by man, even as its Lord and Savior had been.  Indeed, it was something of a badge of honor to those early believers to be so rejected.  But it was no light thing.  Neither did they discourage.  They gathered where they could, and did so regularly.  Why?  Because the place wasn’t the point.  But there was something else of significance in gathering:  The communion of saints.  This has got to have powerful impact on our understanding of things.

Consider the well-known instruction given in Hebrews 10:24-25“Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another; and all the more, as you see the day drawing near.”  This is hardly a one-off.  Paul has the same message.  I would argue the fundamental thrust of the whole letter of 1Corinthians drives this point home.  Seek not that which shows off self, but that which builds up your brother.  Consider how often Paul uses this idea of edification, building up the structure.  You have the foundation, now build and build carefully!  Add in the message of Nehemiah from of old, when he rallied the returning exiles to rebuild the walls and the temple.  Each supported his neighbor.  If one crew was on the wall to work, another was there to guard the work.  All was mutual support.  This is ever necessary for the believer, for we remain a remnant, a distinct minority in the midst of a foreign and fallen land.

“Woe is me, for I sojourn in Meshech, for I dwell among the tents of Kedar!  Too long has my soul had its dwelling with those who hate peace.  I am for peace, but when I speak, they are for war” (Ps 120:5-7).  We, too, sojourn in foreign places.  We, too, find society at large at war with our beliefs and more and more, with us personally.  We have great need for one another.  “If one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him.  A cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart” (Eccl 4:12).  I have to say, it’s a foolish arrogance that has suggested that one man, with Son and Spirit has those three strands.  Yes, God is our strength, but He has presented us with means, and chief amongst those means are our brothers and sisters.

I return to Peter.  “You also, as living stones, are being built up as a spiritual house for a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ” (1Pe 2:5).  What is that acceptable sacrifice?  “I urge you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship” (Ro 12:1).  Look!  Each individual in the church is indeed a temple of the Holy Spirit, by Scripture’s own declaration.  But each individual is also an individual living stone.  A single stone was never a temple, and I’ll go ahead and include in that the pillars that Jacob raised up as memorials.  There’s a difference, isn’t there, between memorial and temple.  A single stone may remind, but it takes many stones shaped and formed by God, built upon the foundation of His Word, as presented and explained by the prophets and the apostles, to fashion a temple out of those raw materials.

Let us look briefly at the instruction for this edifice of flesh.  “No man can lay a foundation other than the one which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1Co 3:11). “You are fellow citizens with the saints, and are of God’s household, having been built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus Himself being the cornerstone, in whom the whole building, being fitted together  is growing into a holy temple in the Lord; in whom you also are being built together into a dwelling of God in the Spirit” (Eph 2:19-22).  “According to the grace of God which was given to me, as a wise master builder I laid a foundation, and another is building upon it.  But let each man be careful how he builds upon it” (1Co 3:10).  “So then let us pursue the things which make for  peace and the building up of one another” (Ro 14:19).

Here, then, is our message as to what the church is.  It is the gathering together of the saints, of those called to faith in Christ by God, in whom the Holy Spirit has taken up residence.  They gather to build one another up.  They gather as the family of God, to build upon the foundation God has laid through prophet and apostle, which is to say, His written revelation as contained in Scripture.  He hands us the plumb line of His Word and calls us to be accountable both for our own efforts and for those of our brothers beside us.  It is indeed a mutual aid society, and a stronghold against the enemy.  It is a community, a communion, gathered to preserve and strengthen; gathered for the shared purpose of worshiping God according to His direction and desire.  Hear the instruction.  We’ve seen it before in this exercise.  “Walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing forbearance to one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.  There is one body and one Spirit, just as also you were called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all” (Eph 4:1-6).

The place in which you join in this holy unity is not insignificant, but neither is it the chief significance.  If it does not serve the model presented, as concerns the living stones that meet there to be formed into a living temple, then it does not serve as a church.

vi. The Present Day Church

[09/14/20]

We’ve had a bit of history in regards to the development of the church, the place of worship and remembrance.  We saw the altars first built as reminders of promises received of God.  We saw the tabernacle established as a central reminder to wandering Israel that throughout her wanderings, God remained right there in her midst.  But it was not a passive, benign Presence; rather, the guiding, directing, manifest presence of God.  He is with His people, but let there be no doubt that the operative point is that we are His.  He is God and King.  He speaks and we are constrained to obey.  He directs and we are to go and to do according to all His good pleasure.  That we are, by the grace of God, able to comply with glad hearts is astounding.  That we are able to comply at all is already the mark of grace upon us.

But, if I can only keep my focus for a short while, we are contemplating the physical plant.  It is difficult, and quite probably improper anyway, to keep that plant separate from its purpose and its people, but it is the matter of the structure that is before me at the moment, however often I lose sight of that goal.  What shall we say of the physical plant?  I want to remain in the recent past just a bit longer, and review somewhat developments in the Church age.

As noted, the earliest church had no edifice to speak of.  They had, near as we can tell, somebody’s living room, or the equivalent space.  When we hear of the church in such and such a place, it is quite often spoken of as the church in so and so’s home.  Colossians and Philemon having been recent studies, Philemon himself comes to mind as an example.  Priscilla and Aquila would be another prime example (Ro 16:5), as also Nympha (Col 4:15).

With time and recognition, it became possible for the Church to develop structures less hidden away.  We can reasonably debate the relative benefit that came with official recognition, but the edifices that arose were indeed things of great beauty and skill, and built with intent to glorify God.  Was there a bit of competing with the local gods?  Perhaps.  Was there official interest driving the effort, or at least urging it?  More than likely.  But as I have observed in regard to the councils, I am less concerned with worldly motivations that may have been involved, and far more interested in what God was doing through and in spite of those worldly motivations.

It is clear from the attention given to the design of the temples of old that God is not opposed to having such structures, and in fact, is intimately involved in their design.  The key factor is that they must needs follow His design and they must needs abide in His purpose.  When the building becomes the point, the point has been lost.  When the building is neglected, I would argue, so, too, has God.  It’s a fine line.

Here, we must be reminded that it is not for us to determine what is beautiful.  It is not for us to decide what tides of fashion should inform our structure.  It is for God to decide and decree, and for us to obey and to build.  Let me fast forward into the terribly named Medieval period.  I say terribly named because so many hear the term and get caught up on the homophonic similarity to evil.  Oh, what a terrible name!  But the term has nothing to say of evil.  It simply means a medium age, or Middle Age, which is exactly the period to which it pertains:  The Middle Ages.

Whatever else may be said of that period, the architecture applied to cathedrals is truly inspiring, and the degree of effort and wealth that went into their construction is stunning.  There is a reason we mourn the loss of Notre Dame to fire.  There is a reason to rue the corruption of such structures, whether by their defilement via Islamic overrun, or by their casual conversion to shop and home.  As beautiful a home as may be made of such a structure, and as sympathetic as the alterations may be to the original form, the corruption of purpose is unavoidably sad; that a people once proud to be known as the people of God now consider His house just another building on the market.  I say it is sad because it is an evidence that God has become meaningless to such a populace.

Let us jump forward to the Protestant era.  We have seen styles and movements come and go.  There have been periods that insisted on plain structures, devoid of any adornment, lest the adornment distract from God Himself.  One can understand that response, particularly given the excesses of Roman Catholicism which preceded the Protestant Reformation.  But even at its roots, there were those who saw that beauty of form was not anathema, but indeed God honoring when held in proper perspective.  We come to early New England, and must understand there is a reason for the spires atop the roof, and it wasn’t just so you could find the village from a distance.  It was to draw the soul upward.  Indeed, the whole art of the church building is – or at least ought – to this intent.

Look again at the temple of Solomon.  This was grandeur at grand scale.  But the object was not to show off Solomon’s wealth.  The object was to draw the soul upward.  It was an uplifting thing to be in the house of God.  Consider Korah’s song.  “How lovely are Thy dwelling places, O LORD of hosts!  My soul longed and even yearned for the courts of the LORD” (Ps 84:1-2a).  “For a day in Thy courts is better than a thousand outside.  I would rather stand at the threshold of the house of my God, than dwell in the tents of wickedness” (Ps 84:10).

I observe a couple of things.  One, is probably a bit shaky, as points, go, but I note that Korah doesn’t speak of a singular place, but of dwelling places.  This is not an ode to the temple of Solomon, or whichever temple was extent when he sang, but to the God Who abides in that place, and in such other places as He chooses to make His dwelling.  That will, then, apply to our lives as well as our edifices, but again; focus.

Secondly, the place is described as lovely.  Now, it must be the case that it is lovely primarily for the fact of God dwelling therein, but this beautiful God must, in His good pleasure, dwell in places that are in keeping with His beauty, His glory.  Again, I remind that He decreed the beauty of those structures, tabernacle and temple alike.  He provided detailed instruction.  He sent the Holy Spirit to endue the artisans with skill sufficient to the task.  Clearly, He cares.  Clearly, we should as well.

I think, given that we have seen no call to shift the design, and that design is predicated on the true temple in heaven, we do well to retain the eastward orientation, whatever may have been made of that orientation by counterfeit religion.  I think we do well to retain the upward draw that informs the architecture and the artistry.  What is the instruction that we have?  “If then you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.  Set your mind on the things above, not the things that are on earth” (Col 3:1-2).  This, I think, must direct our considerations of the physical plant.  If the building is a distraction from Christ, then something is wrong.  If the building does not inspire the attention to rise up to Christ, to longingly reach heavenward, then we have fallen short.  This is where both the Medieval cathedral and the spired church of old excelled.  You are reminded that God is great, and you are not, except in that you are His.  Perspective is restored with every visit.  There is nothing wrong with that almost irresistible urge to gasp when entering such a space.  Where there is something wrong is when we stop at admiring the artistry and fail to appreciate the reason for it.

Where we often go wrong today, I think, is that we reduce the building to some utilitarian accession to necessity.  We downplay the building beyond what is right.  Yes, we must value the people that make up the Church, for they, too, are that place described by Korah, dwelling places of God Most High, and image bearers of His majesty.  That, however, speaks as much to the process of sanctification and personal piety as anything.  The same truths held for Israel from the outset, for mankind from the outset, for all that.  Yet, there was this beautifully made tabernacle.  Yet, there was the soaring, gleaming structure of the temple.  Yet, there would be cathedrals aplenty, marvels of engineering in their own right, but to one purpose:  To glorify the God Who created heaven and earth, and to draw the heart ever upward.

Can we say the same for our structures?  It’s hard to imagine a church that meets in storefront or gymnasium or school managing such a feat.  Don’t misunderstand.  I get the reasoning, and the desire to reach the community in need is certainly a godly desire.  But perhaps we need to ask again:  What is Church?  I don’t observe God having established His house on the basis of being in the most needy place.  It would be hard, I should think, to arrive at such a determination of need, given that we are all of us desperately sick and in need of our Savior.  While there is a centrality to His choice of location, it is not primarily about accessibility.  Jerusalem was not necessarily the most central or accessible place.  To be called there several times a year was no small thing, and there is a reason we have those psalms which are labeled as songs of ascent.  Jerusalem was a bit of a climb, however gentle the grade.

I think we need to seriously contemplate what our choices say about our regard for God and our recognition of the church as His house.  To speak of that place as His house does no disservice to the believer.  Rather, it recognizes a dedication, a setting apart of that place for one purpose, and one purpose alone:  The worship of God Almighty.  If it is set apart for Him, what are we doing making it a community center?  Look, I speak as inactive elder of a church in which we find a gymnasium, and enough classrooms to be a small school.  I get that the gymnasium is used – at least occasionally – as outreach to the local youth, and rather more regularly than I would like as the place of worship at present.  It may be a matter of necessity, but it is impossible to look at that space as somehow glorifying and uplifting.  It’s a gym.  It looks like a gym.  It sounds like a gym.  Nothing you can do to it will change that.

As technology makes its way into our more official worship spaces, we must needs take care that we are mindful of beauty as well as function.  We must beware of simply following the current cultural lead, lest our efforts at worship become a distraction to God’s people rather than a means of drawing the heart heavenward.  If all is artifice, then all we have is an edifice.  I return to that message Paul gave to Corinth.  “Let each man be careful how he builds” (1Co 3:10b).

Can I manage a conclusion here?  I think I may have done so already, but let me try and distill it.  The physical plant of the church is, or should be, a place dedicated to the sole function of worshiping God and remembering His promises.  It should, in every regard, be designed in accordance with His direction, whether pursuing compliance with what we have written in Scripture, or in prayerful, Spirit-led consideration.  It should rightly be beautiful, and according to God’s definitions of beauty.  Everything about that place, both its design and its liturgy, ought to uplift, to direct the soul heavenward, to engage heart and mind in contemplation of our glorious, loving God.

It may offend the sensibilities of some, but I would have to insist that the church building is not about outreach.  It’s a place for God to meet with His people.  Is it closed to outsiders?  By no means!  Let them come and become insiders.  But the church as meeting place is not about serving the seeker or finding the lost.  That is our mission, assuredly, but mission is not about a building, it’s about a people.  The building we call a church is about God and His people.  It is a place to come and be reminded of His glory.  It is a place to come and give praises to His glory.  I would allow that it is a place to gather under the preaching of His Word, which is a duty ordained of God.  And that preaching must ever be in keeping with the nature of the building.  It, too, must draw the heart heavenward, even if it must be often done by way of reminding us of our burden of sin alongside His weight of glory.

I have heard the Church described in times past as an infirmary, where the sin-sick come to be healed, and the wounded believer comes to recover.  I suppose there is something of that in the place, for we do gain strength as we gather together, but I am not ready to accept that this is the proper function of the physical plant of the Church.  That makes it too much about us, and too little about Him, and that place which we would designate a church, a dwelling place of God Most High, must assuredly be not only first and foremost, but exclusively about Him.

picture of patmos
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