[11/29/20]
We have considered much about the Church as to her form and feature, but now I would look at her function. What is the point? What is it, exactly, that the Church is supposed to be? To achieve? The answer, I think, must depend on the perspective we have in mind. I am choosing to consider two perspectives, that of internal function and then, that of external function. What do I mean by this? By internal function, I have in mind the purpose of the Church, or let us say the church as indicating the local body, in regard to herself. What is it the church is supposed to achieve amongst her flock? By external function, I have in mind the purpose of the church in the greater scope of society. What is it the church is supposed to achieve in the world?
It is a problem for the church that these two tend to be blurred, and what is applicable to one is presumed to be the point of the other. The result, it seems to me, is that neither purpose is actually well served. So, let’s start with the internal function. What is the church to be to her people? Here, one can find many viewpoints. I have heard the church described as a camp for God’s army, as a field hospital, as a school, as a gymnasium, and probably other analogies which don’t as readily come to mind. I think one can find a grain of truth in all those descriptions, but they seem to me to be incomplete, or tilted toward one particular aspect to the disregard of others. It may well be that my own views on the subject suffer the same issue, but let’s see.
I return to Ephesians 4:12, picking up just after Paul’s notice of those officers we have discussed in previous sections of this effort. Here, he describes the purpose. “For the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to build up the body of Christ.” You can see some of those analogies forming here, can’t you? How does one build up the body? He goes to the gym. Given the proximity to that exhortation to “put on the full armor of God,” in Ephesians 6:11, we might also see that idea of a military encampment with its armory and its training ground. But the purpose statement continues. “Until we all attain to the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fulness of Christ” (Eph 4:13). That message, of course, continues, noting stability in our faith, loving exposition of truth, and concern for the body.
Look! This is inward in focus, but not so inward as to be insular. The equipping is for service. That service should, I believe, consider the body first. For the body that does not see to its own care is soon to be of no use to anybody else. But if I go back to the matter of equipping, it’s an interesting word I encounter: Katartismos, which the KJV translates as perfecting. It has the idea of full supply, complete furnishing. Arguably, this is the completion of that process of perfection which defines the life of the Christian. Take it in that light, and Paul’s message is that the church’s main function is to see to it that each of her individual members arrives at the perfection that shall be found in Christ when we see Him as He truly is in heaven. That, however, feels just a bit over the top to me. It does fit with the idea of maturing into the fulness of Christ, so perhaps it’s not that far over the top, but it does set a goal that is quite clearly beyond the capacity of any man, even an Apostle proper, to achieve. It pushes into that territory of action which belongs rightly to God alone.
Here, however, Paul speaks of edifying, building up. It’s that favorite construction-site image of his. What we are being equipped for isn’t our personal perfection, as if that goal was obtainable in this life, but service, ministry, diaconate effort towards the rest of the body, knowing that they, simultaneously, have the same mindset toward us. This is a beautiful thing! We are being equipped by the spiritually mature in order that we might be spiritually mature, and in order that we might aid one another in that process of maturation. This is the first focus of service: That the body may be built.
That seems so terribly self-centered, doesn’t it? The first work of the church is the church. I can hear the evangelically-gifted sputtering in shock at the very thought! How could you be so self-satisfied as to turn inward like this? But, dear evangelist, as I said earlier, the body that will not see to its own health can hardly be of service to any other.
Hear this point made differently to the troubled church of Corinth. It is made differently because the immediate need of the body there was different. But the underlying point is the same, as it must be. The gospel is the same. “But to each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good” (1Co 12:7). Now, it has to be said, that those inclined toward charismatic display focus on the nature of the gifts Paul discusses here, and tend to miss the corrective. At the same time, those not so inclined tend to dismiss the gifts as maybe something given the church in her barely post-pagan state, but surely no longer active, and wind up, I think, minimizing God’s generosity here. To the one, I would say, remember the direction of chapter 14! It’s not the glamorous gift that matters. It’s the serviceable gift, the one that edifies. If it doesn’t edify the body, then it’s probably not for use in the body. Well enough for you at home, perhaps, but not really serving a purpose here. To the other, I would acknowledge that yes, this is not intended as an exhaustive list of those gifts God gives, but rather a sampling, and quite probably tuned specifically to happenings in Corinth. It’s here, for example, that we find the particular gifts of the church including matters of helps and administrations (1Co 12:28). Those are hardly flash gifts, but woe to the church that suffers from a lack thereof!
The whole thrust of Chapter 14 in that letter is a call for edification. “So also you, since you are zealous of spiritual gifts, seek to abound for the edification of the church” (1Co 14:12). It’s not about advertising your piety, and it’s not about your excitement. It’s not even about self-improvement. It’s about being of service to the body, of using these gifts in a diaconate fashion. You’ve been blessed by God to have something to bring to the table. So, serve it up! Let the body benefit from your gift as you benefit from the gifts others bring. You want a love feast? I can think of no better!
[11/30/20]
I say then that at this level, the internal function of the church really is something of a mutual aid society, but with a significant holy bent. We aid one another by encouraging one another to holiness. We see that in the call to worship together that is presented by the author of Hebrews. “Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful” (Heb 10:23). That in itself is an act of encouragement toward a church facing the trials of persecution. “And 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” (Heb 10:24-25). You see here the purpose set forth clearly. Encourage one another to love and to good deeds. Stir one another up. You see that things are growing darker in the world, so stir up the light just that much brighter. You see the persecution rising, so encourage each other with your faith to stand fast. You are not alone. You have this fellowship, and it is a precious gift worthy of every effort to preserve and to grow.
How do we do this? I think one way is that which we find modeled by Peter. “Therefore, I shall always be ready to remind you of these things, even though you already know them, and have been established in the truth which is present with you. And I consider it right, as long as I am in this earthly dwelling, to stir you up by way of reminder, knowing that the laying aside of my earthly dwelling is imminent, as also our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me” (1Pe 1:12-14). Now a portion of that is quite personal and particular to Peter. He knew his time was short, and he sought to ensure that when he was gone, these sheep would ‘be able to call these things to mind’ (1Pe 1:15). It's not that you don’t know. We might recognize, as he does elsewhere, that we are by nature forgetful. Just think how quickly you can tend to lose memory of the sermon having left the building. Just think how swiftly the thoughts in these studies slip from mind in the business of the day.
The church, then, is a place of reminder, not a place for novelty. You don’t have need of new and exciting teaching. You have need of being taught the sound doctrines of the ancient faith repeatedly, in order that, should the time come when gathering together has been rendered unfeasible and you have no further recourse to sound teaching, the lessons will be so ingrained as to continue a sure guide to your life and character. Honestly, that’s rather the goal, persecution or no. This is what’s going on. The internal purpose of the church is to take those whom Christ has called and inculcate in them a sure and earnest faith in the Truth of God, having no admixture and admitting of no least leavening with worldly philosophies.
Now I need to balance that. Worldly philosophies are not absolutely and inherently evil. The blind squirrel, as the time-worn saying goes, is still able to find the occasional acorn. If there is truth expressed there, and that truth is expressed in useful, accessible fashion, by all means make use of it. Paul did. It’s not as though he was somehow immunized against worldly influences, but rather that he could, as we can, discern where that outside philosophy touched on truth and where it promoted vanity and wind. (How I love that phrase, vanity and wind. It covers so much ground.)
Paul, we find, will gladly quote the poets of Crete, the philosophers of Greece. Jesus had no particular issue with borrowing from the common wisdom of the world to demonstrate the most elevated of godly principles. To take the other approach, Plato, as I have often observed, is quite capable of putting forth ideas that you would recall quite clearly as having come from the lips of our Lord. But then, he also pursues some ideas that are quite at odds with godly living. It requires discernment. But it doesn’t require instant, knee-jerk rejection of anything that has to do with the world and its systems of thought. This applies to philosophy, certainly, but also to science, to technology, to medicine. God has not rejected any of these as antichrist. Whatever teachings may come around suggesting otherwise, quite possibly are the work of antichrist. At minimum, they are the product of vain imaginations puffed up beyond all due measure.
Here in the body of Christ we should really be wary of anything that smacks of novelty. The novel teaching is quite likely no teaching at all, but rather the attempt to insert just a wee bit of deviation into the course of those who would pursue a true heavenward course. It needn’t come of some nefarious purpose. We don’t need to renounce the individual, necessarily, but rather to correct with the truth in love. That is, after all, part of this inward function of the church. If a brother sins, and your reproof brings him to repentance, how wonderful! You have won your brother back (Mt 18:15). This is eminently desirable. This is ever the goal. Repentance is so much more beautiful an outcome than rejection.
But if this one insists on their novel teaching over against the clear and settled doctrines of the Scriptures, presented and preserved by Apostolic authority? Then indeed, the call is for disciplinary action, that the flock may continue undisturbed and unmolested. You see how these topics continue to intertwine. But don’t think this task devolves to leadership alone. It is the duty of every believer to take care for their brother next to them. I go back, often enough, to that lesson from Nehemiah, delivered, oddly enough, by footnote to the passage describing the rebuilding of the walls in Jerusalem. The danger was great and the labor force limited, so men went out armed to the walls to work. More to the point was the preparation that preceded even this decision. The danger was real. The danger to God’s people is ever real, we just tend to minimize that fact and ignore it until we can no longer. Hearing of the danger, Nehemiah says, “We prayed to our God, and because of them we set up a guard against them day and night” (Neh 4:9). But he also made arrangements, in order that the work might continue in relative safety. “From that day on, half of my servants carried on the work while half of them held the spears, the shields, the bows, and the breastplates, and the captains were behind the whole house of Judah. Those who were rebuilding the wall and those who carried burdens took their load with one hand doing the work and the other holding a weapon” (Neh 4:16-17). No letting go and letting God here. But neither blithe trust in their own capacity.
It’s a funny thing, I think, but of the very few physical marks I have ever been willing to put in my Bible, circling the footnote to this scene is one such mark. I quote. “Prayer and works are perfectly illustrated here. We are to pray as though we had never worked and work as though we had never prayed.” What a beautifully balanced perspective. But, too, what a beautiful depiction of the inward life of the church. We labor together, some as defenders and some as builders. We keep watch over one another, not as fault finders but as having our brother’s back. We pursue the defense of the work in prayer for one another, whether in the isolation of our private place, in brief exchanges, or in concerted, shared times of prayer in the fellowship. How wonderful that at least occasionally our leaders at the national level still recognize the need for a national day of prayer. How sad that by and large, the church has tended to neglect those calls when they come. Look, nothing ever said that we had to withdraw utterly from public affairs. How shall we ever pursue our external function if we refuse to engage externally? How shall we ever hope to round up the stray sheep if we aren’t willing to step foot outside the fold?
As something I was reading the other day observed (probably one of these pamphlets from Ligonier), what do we see in the model we have in Christ our Lord? He went out. He was comfortable amongst the great unwashed, and made sure they were comfortable with Him. You can’t expect to reach those you repel, after all. You can’t win one to Christ whom you reject and revile. To put it more softly, you can’t expect to speak into another person’s life without first having won the right to be heard, without first have demonstrated friendship and charity towards that person. But that gets more to the external function, doesn’t it?
Well, the internal function of the church is preparatory to the external. It is a training camp as well as a mutual aid society. If the purpose is to stir one another up to doing good, that good extends beyond the camp of the believers, as God’s goodness extends beyond that camp. “But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you in order that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven; for He causes His sun to rise on evil and good, and sends rain on righteous and unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax-gatherers do the same? And if you greet your brothers only, what do you do more than others? Do not even Gentiles do the same? Therefore you are to be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mt 5:44-48).
And here is yet another passage that I have little doubt is misapprehended on the regular. See? The casual reader will observe, we are called to perfection. He wouldn’t issue the call if He didn’t expect the result. Some would even go so far as to insist that this makes clear that perfection in holiness can in fact be attained in this life. But the ‘therefore’ comes with a context, with a point of reference, and that point of reference is the exercise of love. The perfection is a matter of completeness. The term is teleios. We’re back at maturity in primary usage, but here, some of our lexicons at least suggest there is no particular reference to maturity, and certainly not to finality, but rather ‘complete goodness’. So yes, this being perfect suggests remaining untouched by the world’s perversions of all that is good. And the point is this: To temper one’s reactions to people based on, well, on anything really, is to demonstrate worldly thinking. Greet those outside your fold. Love those who hurtfully use you. Demonstrate by your inclusiveness that the exclusivity of faith is not such as precludes being joined by those presently outside, but rather such as precludes exclusion on all but one basis: God’s choice. If He calls, you are brother. It doesn’t matter, at that juncture, whether I find you a pleasant brother to have near or would prefer you were brother at a distance. That again is the invasion of worldly assessment. You are an image bearer, even apart from belief on the One whose image you bear. To that degree, you are my brother regardless of faith or its absence, and on that basis alone I have more than sufficient call to love you as I ought.
I think if we were to treat this as some dutiful exercise we would swiftly fall prey to another worldly influence; that of pragmatism, and I dare say the ostensible expressions of love which would result would be clearly seen by those to whom they are targeted as manipulative and self-serving, and utterly loathsome. The call here isn’t to put on a show, but to live a reality. And in the inward life of the church, we are called to encourage that reality in one another, to exercise what is good, correct what is bad, stir one another up, keep one another strong. We lend ourselves to our brethren, that all may together grow and mature into the fulness of Christ. That fulness consists in wisdom and knowledge, wisdom beginning (and arguably ending) in the fear of God. But we cannot practice what we do not know, and we cannot apply wisely that knowledge which has had no practice.
Things may get messy during the learning process, and that in itself is opportunity to learn both for the one making the mess and the one cleaning it up. If nothing else, it is an exercise in patience, that least pursued of virtues because the pursuit is so painful. Ah! But the fruit of that discipline is sweet, is it not?
[12/01/20]
There is, as I have explored earlier in this study, the aspect of family to the life and function of the church. That being the case, the inward function of the family might not be a bad consideration in seeking to understand the inward function of the church. If we consider the family’s involvement in raising a child to constructive adulthood, the model is pretty clear, isn’t it? It begins with the conception and birthing of new life, and already in that process there is a sense of the communal nurture that is inherent in a properly functioning family. The husband cares for the increased needs of his wife during the period of her pregnancy, and she, in her own turn, cares for her body in recognition that certainly, in this period, her body is not wholly her own. Life is forming and must be tenderly guarded and encouraged.
Now think of that one for whom you’ve been praying long years and who has finally come to faith. It’s not because of your prayers or other efforts that they’ve come, but God’s will alone. Yet you have been granted this formative role in their calling as an instrument in God’s capable hands, so there is a reasonable cause for recognizing a certain parental involvement. I think of Paul, writing to the Corinthians as they went through their trying teen years, as it were, and sought to idolize their teachers. “For if you were to have countless tutors in Christ, yet you would not have many fathers; for in Christ Jesus I became your father through the gospel” (1Co 4:15). This isn’t a claim of privilege but a declaration of care. It is at once a claim to the authority to correct them as well as a claim as to the nature of that correction. It is the loving correction of a father for his children. Earlier he had said, “And I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual men, but as to men of flesh, as to babes in Christ. I gave you milk to drink, not solid food; for you were not yet able to receive it” (1Co 3:1-2a). Now, at that point he is building toward a corrective point, but I want for the moment to see the nurture evident in that build up. He did not overwhelm them with high doctrines of which they could comprehend little and from which they could gain less. He taught them as befitted their stage of growth, in order that they might, in due course, grow to such an age as could receive these deeper, more difficult teachings. “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” (1Co 3:10a). That again expresses a parental role, doesn’t it?
It’s not that the one granted a role in the implanting of faith has thereafter some inviolable claim of exclusive authority in the life of the convert. It’s all well and good to feel a degree of fealty and devotion to that person or church in which one first comes to life, but the nature of the growing process does involve others coming along to add to the building by their teaching and example. We will have many tutors, many mentors in the course of our Christian life, and that may be within a single local body, or it may be in seasons spent as members of a variety of local bodies. As noted earlier, the decision to switch from one to the other is not a thing to undertake lightly, but must have sound cause. This is family, after all, and we do not lightly jump from household to household as children of human parents. Why we think this should be so in spiritual matters is beyond me.
But there is a parental concern. We might look to those later mentors and tutors as older brothers. That is, after all, rather the idea, isn’t it? The tutor has the advantage of longer experience and greater learning, and is able to impart from that to the aid of his juniors. What is somewhat unique, I think, to the life of the church is that the younger simultaneously has that which is on offer for the aid and benefit of his seniors. This is no call for precociousness in the younger member, but rather a joyful humility that it can be so. For, as Paul told the Corinthians, we are all of us given some gift of the Spirit by which to serve the body at large. There is none so young in the faith as to have nothing on offer, for the Spirit is present within from the first moments of salvation. It doesn’t take a superhero of the faith to exercise spiritual gifts. It takes a believer, and that is enough and more than enough, for the gift is in the Spirit, not the man.
Is there more to learn from the model of the family? By all means. Consider the nature of the parents’ concerns and efforts as their child grows. They have brought him to life, which is a marvel in its own right. But they continue to nurture that life, and not by the bare necessities of food and shelter. No, they have great concern for his moral growth as well as his physical growth. They would have a child who is strong in body and able to make his way, yes, but they would also have a child of whom they can be proud, one as one parenting guide put forward, that they would be pleased to count a friend and a close acquaintance in later years. He who would have so boon a companion in his child in due course must put in the necessary effort and care from the outset. A loving father disciplines his child. We’ve read that already. A feral child is no evidence of love, but rather of slothful neglect. That child who is given no grounding in the doctrines of grace has suffered perhaps the worst parental abuse one could experience. It may not leave physical marks, but it has left that one at a distinct disadvantage in the matter of living a life that matters.
We are, I suspect, fully familiar with the Proverb. “Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it” (Pr 22:6). That is just a concise summation of the instruction given to Israel from the outset, and ought to be the practice of every Christian parent. Is it a guarantee? As much as my heart would love to say yes, my experience dictates that I say no. The best efforts of the parent may yet fail to produce in the child a childlike faith in Christ. The most devout of parents may yet discover their child a reprobate all his days. By the same token in the obverse, the most reprobate of parents, utterly neglectful of matters of faith and morals in the lives of their children may yet discover their child come to faith by other avenues, and saved unto a life they themselves may never know. But these are notable for the simple fact that they are exceptional cases. The general rule holds. Children tend to take on the character of their parents, as the training their parents give, whether intentionally or not, will tend to reflect their character. If one presses the clay into the mold, it can hardly be surprising that the resultant form follows the shape of the mold. It is possible, yes, that the form may alter once the constraints of the mold are removed, but the general tendency will be to hold that shape.
This is our role in the internal function of the church. We are as molds one to another. We are seeking to form the lives of young believers in order that they may in due course become mature believers. We are equipping the saints according to their various capacities, in keeping with their various gifts. And we are doing so in the clear recognition that we are ourselves in that process of growth.
I have to say that as my parental role takes on the much different flavor that applies when our daughter has become a full-fledged adult in her own right, this, too, is something modeled in the family. There is a new sweetness and vulnerability to be had on the parent/child relationship at this stage. In younger years, we may not be so open as to our own challenges, because the development of the child is not yet at a place that can hear of such vulnerabilities to any benefit. It would be to them an invitation to rebelliousness. But in the life of an adult, where we are now welcomed advisors rather than beneficent dictators, there can be an openness and humility that are of great benefit to parent and child alike. We model Christ somewhat in this, ministering from a place of familiarity. “For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin” (Heb 4:15). Now, we shall not be able to lay claim to the office, nor to the sinless result. But if our children are very fortunate, they will discover that they have parents who can sympathize with their weaknesses, having experienced these same sorts of trials and failures and yes, victories, in their own turn.
We undergo our lives in order to prepare us to be of assistance to those who face similar things in future years, in order that they might have the benefit of our experience, and perhaps navigate clear of some of those hurts. We have manifold discussions around matters of purpose. There are, as my brother in Christ has been discussing of late, those who will boldly proclaim on the fact that God has a purpose for our lives and we just need to lay hold of that purpose and pursue it. Well, as we have discussed, there is truth to that, but perhaps pushed a shade too far to remain true. Yes, God has a purpose for our lives, and yes, we shall have our greatest blessing, if not our greatest fun and enjoyment, when we are on the course He has purposed. Mind you, I am forced to concede that we are, of necessity, always on the course He has purposed. It’s just that said course is not always what we would have chosen for ourselves, granted the benefit of hindsight or foreknowledge. But they are the good and perfect gift by which God has shaped us into who we are today, and by which He has equipped us to be of use to our fellow believer. That being the case, there really cannot be much cause for regret in life, can there? Oh, I certainly regret my sins, and rightly so. Yet I can remain thankful, for my God is so utterly magnificent, so exhaustively powerful that He could even use these evils in my fallen nature to produce a good result in me, and to shape me into one who would be found pleasing in His sight, and welcomed into His house as a true son.
There, too, is good cause for humbly pursuing the familial needs and roles of church life. God has been pleased to work on us even when we were at our worst. God has been, and continues to be pleased to persist in light of our growing record of failures. He has the great benefit of knowing the end from the beginning, I grant you, so He can persist readily, knowing already the finished product that shall be our emergence into the glory of heaven. But then, we too, as children of the light, can know that same surety in regard to our efforts amongst one another. Or, at least, if we cannot know it with the certainty of revelatory knowledge, we can labor in the expectation that here in our brother is another who, in spite of setbacks and failures, shall in due course be brought to full maturity to dwell alongside us in heaven forever. We have cause, then, to minister to such a one with compassion, mercy, and grace, that they may themselves grow in compassion, mercy, and grace. We have cause to exercise forgiveness, recalling to mind always that we ourselves continue to stand in great need of forgiveness, and are blessed to know that forgiveness received so often as we are again in need of it. God is good and He is so good as to grant us a part in rearing His children even as He sends along others to have a part in our own growth.
The family dynamic is, perhaps, the most defining feature, or ought to be, of this internal function of the church, as we stir one another to good deeds, and as we speak the truth in love to one another, in order that all may build together on the sure foundation of the Word. It is a great comfort, is it not, to know that we don’t build alone, that we are not left, like Noah, to raise up an ark by ourselves in the midst of a skeptical world? We are fed, like Elijah in the wilderness, by God’s provision, and reminded weekly that no, we are not the only ones left, but God has preserved to Himself a faithful remnant. And by our joining together, we are encouraged and we are able to encourage. By our joining together, we are able to lend and draw strength, to take the proper measure of our efforts, and test the true of our building, as well as to offer loving assessment to our brother in their own building efforts, that they may adjust and advance alongside us.
