What are we to make of denominations? Are they in fact responsible (at least in part) for the deplorable lack of real spiritual life in the majority of churches? For all its popularity, this idea has a number of problems that leave it with little merit beyond its convenience.
By definition, a denomination is what you get when you denominate. To denominate is to name. Or, as Mr. Webster has it, “to give a specified name to.” Together with its synonym “designate,” we may determine that the purpose for giving the specified name is to distinguish one thing from another – a very helpful, time-tested method for establishing order and avoiding confusion (witness the denominations of our legal tender as one example). And, as we saw in Part 1, God likes order and dislikes confusion. Therefore, we may also infer that denominations are helpful to God for bringing about His sovereign purposes, and not rather contrary to those purposes. There is an abundance of scripture that supports this idea.
In the beginning, God denominated (read – gave specific names to) the several elements of creation – light and darkness/day and night/heavens and earth/sun and moon and stars/water and land/plants and animals/man and woman/and one day from another. In Genesis 2, God distinguishes between the garden and the rest of the earth, and between the four rivers originating in the garden, and the several lands into which each flowed. In the same chapter, the first recorded activity of the man was to imitate the Father in whose image he was created, by denominating all the animals. You get the idea.
As shown from just these few, early scriptural examples (of course, many more could be cited), the Bible teaches denominations – not as precept, but as inescapable fact. They are a necessary, fundamental element of the circumstance God created for us in this world. Though not of the world, God’s people exist in this world, and are therefore subject (generally speaking) to its God given, defining parameters.
Here again, someone will object that this is not what he or she meant when they said that denominations are hurtful to the spiritual life of churches. I ask then, “What did you mean?” Every instance I have noted is an example of denominating according to definition – distinguishing between individual entities by giving each a specified name. “Yes,” comes the reply, “but, but I meant organized religion!” And, around and around we begin to go.
Why the difficulty? Because among those who decry denominations there is the unfounded supposition that “denomination” takes on a different meaning when applied to a religious body. This, of course, is a misleading error. Religious denominations exist because they have been distinguished one from another. We find then that New Testament characters not only have individual names just like folks in the Old Testament, but more to the point (and perhaps more surprisingly) we find that churches are denominated.
Within the vast, unifying sweep of the Pax Romana and beyond, the ancient world was a rich tapestry of cultural diversity – peoples separated and distinguished by distance, language, and tradition. This variety is hinted in Luke’s account of Pentecost in Acts 2, provided below:
"And when this sound occurred, the multitude came together, and were confused, because everyone heard them speak in his own language. Then they were all amazed and marveled, saying to one another, 'Look, are not all these who speak Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each in our own language in which we were born? Parthians and Medes and Elamites, those dwelling in Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya adjoining Cyrene, visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs – we hear them speaking in our own tongues the wonderful works of God.'"
It cannot be but that wherever these pilgrims returned from Jerusalem with the Gospel, it took on something of that culture’s color and flavor, distinguishing believers there (to a greater or lesser degree) in some recognizable way, setting them apart from believers elsewhere. The apostle Paul makes use of the names of their locations in his letters to distinguish one church from another and establish to whom each letter was written. Certainly, no two churches were ever more denominated than the Jerusalem church and the church at Antioch. They even used different versions of the Bible.
Some may have trouble reconciling this idea with Paul’s so-called denunciation of denominations in 1 Corinthians. But as I will show, there is no conflict here because, actually, denominations are not what Paul censures in this passage. The problem he addresses is schism (or denominational-ISM).
Observe in 1:10, Paul identifies his concern, “that there be no divisions [schisma=schisms or dissentions] among you.” That is, among the church at Corinth. In 1:11, he pinpoints the source of the divisions, “there are contentions [eris=strife or wrangling] among you.” In 1:12, he supplies us the issues at the heart of the contentions, “each of you says, "I am of Paul," or "I am of Apollos," or "I am of Cephas," or "I am of Christ." His response (in brief) in 1:13 is the rhetorical question, “Is Christ divided?” The answer of course is, “No.”
Now, it is often suggested this passage teaches that denominations are destructive of unity in the body of Christ as a whole, and somehow impeding to the spiritual advance of believers. Notice, however, that Paul, neither here nor later, ever suggests that the problem is a result of the fact that he had taught some of them, and Apollos had taught some of them, and Cephas had taught some of them. Paul is simply stating facts related to the case. He is not identifying these facts as the cause of the problem.
Someone had to teach them. As the apostles went their separate ways following their instructions to spread the Gospel over the known world, the situation described in Corinth was inevitable. Notice especially what the apostle makes of the last group – those who say, “I am of Christ.” Among the rest, there were those who thought to take the high road and claim to follow no man, but only Christ. And, you see where Paul places them – side by side in the lineup with the other offenders.
What is going on in the passage? As I said earlier, Paul is not addressing the fact of the variety of the teachers. He is condemning the dissentions among the people there. The dissentions were not caused by the variety of teachers. The dissentions were what the people made out of the variety of teachers. Paul plainly states as much in 3:3-4:
"You are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men? For when one says, 'I am of Paul,' and another, 'I am of Apollos,' are you not carnal?"
Clearly then, the fact that believers were distinguished or denominated by having different teachers is not the source of the dissention. Neither is the fact of church denominations the source of spiritual deadness in congregations or individual believers. The problem, in both cases, is the people themselves. And, we will discuss this more at length at a later time, Lord willing.
What about “nondenominational” churches? In truth, there is no such thing. The original purpose for calling a church nondenominational was to indicate that it was not officially connected to any of the mainline denominations that sprung out the Reformation. Unfortunately, the self-ascribed title is misleading. The moment a church separates itself from other churches and says, “We are something different called . . . ,“ it denominates itself. It may be a denomination of only one, but a denomination it is nonetheless. And, usually, given time, the church begins to associate with other like-minded churches, or plants sister churches. Before long, it is no longer alone in its denomination.
By this time, it may be dawning on some of you that there appears to be a good bit of confusion (remember Part 1) connected with these popular notions of what’s wrong with the church. It is not merely an appearance. Like denominations, the confusion is a fact. But, unlike denominations, the confusion is avoidable. I hope to revisit this point when I discuss the fourth and final scapegoat – doctrine. Next time, Lord willing, we will consider the charge that traditions hinder true spiritual life in believers/churches. Until then, I pray that these thoughts will be helpful to you in your Christian walk.
Blessings
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Scapegoats And Rabbit Trails
. . . and, we are walking!
As I have already noted, there are many who recognize and mourn the widespread deadness and hypocrisy in churches, desiring what they rightly see as the essential element of the Christian faith – a living, vibrant, real-time relationship with the crucified and risen Christ. This is a good thing because it sets them searching. That desire, however, is often accompanied by impatience. This is a bad thing because impatience, in a search for truth, tends to make people settle for something less than the whole truth. Promising a short cut to satisfaction and peace of mind, easy answers take on a powerful attraction for the over anxious seeker. Enter the scapegoat, upon which the blame for the trouble in churches is erroneously laid.
There are a number of popular scapegoats from which the hopeful pilgrim may choose. The unique circumstances of each person’s life will, to a large extent, determine which scapegoat looms largest in their mind. And, as the believer focuses his attention so as to eliminate the perceived threat to his closer walk with Jesus, he is led down a rabbit trail that effectively keeps him going around in circles rather than getting closer to his beloved Lord. In his preoccupation, he fails to see the real problem. Life becomes a string of frustrated attempts to realize the experience of the first century church as portrayed in the New Testament. And, all the while, the truth of the matter lies plainly in sight.
Before we talk about what that truth is, let’s examine several of the most common scapegoats that distract God’s people from seeing it. There being no particular order of importance among them, I’ll just begin with the scapegoat known as “Organized Religion.”
Organized religion has long been thought to be a killer of spiritual vitality in churches. At best (the thinking goes), those who take part in organized religion are saved (God love ‘em) but are stifled in their spiritual lives, and just don’t get it. They don’t understand what a real relationship with Jesus is all about, because they’re blinded to it by the organized religion they’re a part of. Those who subscribe to this kind of thinking often confirm among themselves the accuracy of the diagnosis by nodding their heads in sad agreement with what appears to them to be the obvious truth – organized religion is the touch of death to a real relationship with Jesus Christ. The answer of course is to shun organized religion.
The problem here is that those who eschew organized religion practice organized religion themselves. They plan where and when to meet, and who will do what in what order. The lessons, sermons, teaching, and/or music are all typically planned. If they plan to be spontaneous, even this must be regarded as a minimum of organization, aside from being an outright contradiction. True, it be would far less organized than most other religious activities. But, organization it is nonetheless. And I know of no scripture indicating that one degree of organization in His worship is preferable to God over another. If the presence of organization means spiritual death (or at best, sleepiness) in churches, the only real alternative is disorganized religion. The difficulty of imagining such a chaotic affair can only hint at the impediments inherent to its execution.
Scripture in fact teaches organization to God’s people. Worship should be organized in its fulfillment, “Let all things be done decently and in order.” (1 Corinthians 14:40) New Testament churches met on a predetermined day at a predetermined time, and there was organized giving, “On the first day of the week let each one of you lay something aside, storing up as he may prosper, that there be no collections when I come.” (1 Corinthians 16:2) Organization is part of the nature of God, “For God is not the author of confusion but of peace, as in all the churches of the saints.” (1 Corinthians 14:33) His covenant is likewise organized, “He has made with me an everlasting covenant, Ordered in all things and secure.” (2 Samuel 23:5) That covenant is what the Christian faith is all about.
Not to belabor the point, but the Bible also tells us that we are “wonderfully made,” “skillfully wrought,” and that God “formed” us. (Psalm 139) The earth itself was “without form and void” before God organized its various components in their proper order. (Genesis 1:2) Many other instances might be cited to this effect, but the collective witness of scripture makes it clear that God really, really likes organization. We therefore have no proper grounds for the conclusion that it is anathema to a relationship with Him. Rather, we have every indication that is an important element to a healthy relationship.
Someone will perhaps protest this is not what they mean by organized religion. It turns out that they meant to put the blame on denominations. And so, denominations are really the problem behind the spiritual deadness of churches. Scapegoat or not? We will explore the validity of this assertion in the next installment, the Lord willing.
As I have already noted, there are many who recognize and mourn the widespread deadness and hypocrisy in churches, desiring what they rightly see as the essential element of the Christian faith – a living, vibrant, real-time relationship with the crucified and risen Christ. This is a good thing because it sets them searching. That desire, however, is often accompanied by impatience. This is a bad thing because impatience, in a search for truth, tends to make people settle for something less than the whole truth. Promising a short cut to satisfaction and peace of mind, easy answers take on a powerful attraction for the over anxious seeker. Enter the scapegoat, upon which the blame for the trouble in churches is erroneously laid.
There are a number of popular scapegoats from which the hopeful pilgrim may choose. The unique circumstances of each person’s life will, to a large extent, determine which scapegoat looms largest in their mind. And, as the believer focuses his attention so as to eliminate the perceived threat to his closer walk with Jesus, he is led down a rabbit trail that effectively keeps him going around in circles rather than getting closer to his beloved Lord. In his preoccupation, he fails to see the real problem. Life becomes a string of frustrated attempts to realize the experience of the first century church as portrayed in the New Testament. And, all the while, the truth of the matter lies plainly in sight.
Before we talk about what that truth is, let’s examine several of the most common scapegoats that distract God’s people from seeing it. There being no particular order of importance among them, I’ll just begin with the scapegoat known as “Organized Religion.”
Organized religion has long been thought to be a killer of spiritual vitality in churches. At best (the thinking goes), those who take part in organized religion are saved (God love ‘em) but are stifled in their spiritual lives, and just don’t get it. They don’t understand what a real relationship with Jesus is all about, because they’re blinded to it by the organized religion they’re a part of. Those who subscribe to this kind of thinking often confirm among themselves the accuracy of the diagnosis by nodding their heads in sad agreement with what appears to them to be the obvious truth – organized religion is the touch of death to a real relationship with Jesus Christ. The answer of course is to shun organized religion.
The problem here is that those who eschew organized religion practice organized religion themselves. They plan where and when to meet, and who will do what in what order. The lessons, sermons, teaching, and/or music are all typically planned. If they plan to be spontaneous, even this must be regarded as a minimum of organization, aside from being an outright contradiction. True, it be would far less organized than most other religious activities. But, organization it is nonetheless. And I know of no scripture indicating that one degree of organization in His worship is preferable to God over another. If the presence of organization means spiritual death (or at best, sleepiness) in churches, the only real alternative is disorganized religion. The difficulty of imagining such a chaotic affair can only hint at the impediments inherent to its execution.
Scripture in fact teaches organization to God’s people. Worship should be organized in its fulfillment, “Let all things be done decently and in order.” (1 Corinthians 14:40) New Testament churches met on a predetermined day at a predetermined time, and there was organized giving, “On the first day of the week let each one of you lay something aside, storing up as he may prosper, that there be no collections when I come.” (1 Corinthians 16:2) Organization is part of the nature of God, “For God is not the author of confusion but of peace, as in all the churches of the saints.” (1 Corinthians 14:33) His covenant is likewise organized, “He has made with me an everlasting covenant, Ordered in all things and secure.” (2 Samuel 23:5) That covenant is what the Christian faith is all about.
Not to belabor the point, but the Bible also tells us that we are “wonderfully made,” “skillfully wrought,” and that God “formed” us. (Psalm 139) The earth itself was “without form and void” before God organized its various components in their proper order. (Genesis 1:2) Many other instances might be cited to this effect, but the collective witness of scripture makes it clear that God really, really likes organization. We therefore have no proper grounds for the conclusion that it is anathema to a relationship with Him. Rather, we have every indication that is an important element to a healthy relationship.
Someone will perhaps protest this is not what they mean by organized religion. It turns out that they meant to put the blame on denominations. And so, denominations are really the problem behind the spiritual deadness of churches. Scapegoat or not? We will explore the validity of this assertion in the next installment, the Lord willing.
Friday, March 26, 2010
A Brief History Of My Journey Thus Far
If we are to be traveling companions, it seems only fair that you know something of my own Christian experience and how I came to be where I am today in my walk with the Lord.
I was raised in a Christian home (my father was a pastor) and made a public profession of faith at the age of six. It was a Sunday evening service at North Gate Baptist Church in Wheaton, Maryland. The congregation was singing, “ . . . earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling – calling all sinners, ‘Come home.’” Though not understanding all that the words meant, I was suddenly impressed very strongly with the idea that with Jesus there was safety. I walked to the front of the church where the pastor stood. He asked me something like, “Do you want to ask Jesus into your heart?” I nodded in the affirmative, and was baptized not long after. It would be another twenty years before I would begin to comprehend what had transpired that night between my soul and God.
In the intervening years, my life developed into a futile attempt to follow two contradictory paths. Unaware of the forces at work within me, I lead an increasingly conflicted life. By the time I was in college, I had become a social chameleon, able to blend into whatever surroundings I found myself – Christian, or far from it. In my heart, however, there was no peace. I felt in every circumstance as though I was on the outside looking in, but never able to enter into my experiences wholeheartedly. It was as if someone was holding my belt from behind as I leaned out over a steep precipice. I’m sure that I confused and hurt a few people along the way.
Late one lonely, drunken Saturday night I could no longer run from my miserable emptiness. I fell asleep sobbing in my dorm room, still with no hint as to why. Late the next morning, unable to wait tables at work because of the night before, I wandered into the TV room. The room was empty, but the television was on and “Chariots Of Fire” was just beginning on HBO. By the time the movie ended, so had my conflict. My path from that point became clear. God had taught me through experience what it meant to be a sinner, and what it meant to obey Christ’s call to come home and have forgiveness in Him. And so, I began to understand.
The next several years were a time of great blessing and growth. My heart was light with the realization of God’s love and patience to me in Christ. My circle of friends changed as that realization became increasingly more visible to my unsaved friends. I met other Christians on campus and began attending church again after a long absence.
My new friends and acquaintances invited me to a variety of Christian organizations for students. Their diversity formed a cross section of church traditions. And, as I attended their functions and bible studies, I was confronted with their doctrinal distinctives and the ensuing debates. From liberal to fundamentalist – from Pentecostal to orthodox – from contemporary to traditional I made the rounds at church on Sundays, listening, searching the scriptures, questioning, discussing, praying, and asking the Lord to lead me to what was of Him and to keep me safe from what was not. All the while, each group offered their sincere assurance that their interpretations of God’s Word were certainly the right ones.
Finally, with several of my closest friends at the time, I settled into a fairly new, quasi-charismatic, “nondenominational,” contemporary church. There was a great sense of belonging and community in a very informal, non-traditional atmosphere. The regular Sunday “teaching” from the pastor was based on a passage of the Bible. The close congregation of young families and students studied God’s Word regularly. We spoke freely and openly about what the Lord was teaching us and doing in our lives, and listened to each other with great interest and enthusiasm. During praise and worship, the music was inspiring, the passion was palpable, and many would afterwards remark how they could feel the Spirit moving.
It was here that I stayed for several years, studying God’s Word and praying for direction in my life in general. It was a wonderful time of growth in faith and knowledge. And, it was here that the Lord gave me the greatest blessing (other than salvation) He has given to me – my wife.
Still, something was wrong. I felt a growing discomfort within my soul, but could not identify anything specific to which I might attribute it. The only real peace I found was in the writings I was discovering – writings of godly men from the past (Anglicans, Lutherans, Baptists, Presbyterians, Anabaptists, and others) who were able to open the scriptures to me in a way that others did not or could not. Some were great scholars. Others had a minimum of formal education. As I read their words with my Bible open beside them, one thing stood out in common above their denominational distinctions. They knew Jesus. They knew Him in a way that I did not. And through their words they made me want to know Him as they did.
At some point during this time of searching I had two dreams that I remember vividly to this day. In the first, I was a child at home feeling the sense of comfort and safety again that a good home gives to children. The feeling, in part, was the result of the cleanness of our home. I felt perfectly at ease as a child under or behind furniture because I trusted that nothing bad would be waiting for me there and “get me.” In this first dream, that sense of trust was shaken by the image of a flood of creepy-crawly things pouring out from beneath the furniture I was resting near on the floor. The second dream consisted of the simple image of Jesus standing between the church and the world, beckoning me to follow Him.
How to understand the dreams came to me quickly. The first dream was a warning that I should always be on my guard, even when I am tempted to feel at ease in my Christian life and religious circumstances. Appearances, and especially feelings, can be deceptive. The second implied that the path that Christ walked, and to which He calls His people, was not of the world (obviously), but in some sense neither was it to be found in the visible church. The way of Christ is wholly unique.
The immediate reason for these dreams was shortly made evident to me. After much soul and scripture searching and a long series of conversations with my pastor, the Lord showed me that danger is not always to be found in what is said. Sometimes it lies in what is left unsaid. The messages and teachings at church were orthodox in their content so far as they went. But, they simply, habitually, consistently failed to present all the counsel of God, and (unwittingly I trust) encouraged a false sense of security. Eventually, my wife and I left our church. After some time visiting other churches here and there, we began hosting informal, house church meetings. Over the course of the next ten years, we met regularly with other believers from various backgrounds, had three beautiful children, and I spent the majority of my free time continuing my studies of Scripture and the writings of many of the most influential men in church history. The Lord was pleased during this time to show me His path more clearly.
The philosophy undergirding my studies was based upon an observation I had read by Sir Francis Bacon. “Reading maketh a full man, writing an exact man, and conference a ready man.” Reading indeed made me full, but I felt a need for disciplined writing and challenging conference. At last, I gave in to the calling that I first began to understand that Sunday afternoon watching “Chariots Of Fire;” the calling I first heard that Sunday evening so long ago as a child; the calling from which I now realized I had been running all my life. I quit my job, sold our house, packed up my family, and pursued formal training to be a minister of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
It was a controversial decision among our congregation. Part was of the opinion that seminary ruins men with too much teaching and too many books, so that they cannot hear God. They were fond of calling it “cemetary.” Others thought the seminary I chose was apostate by virtue of the fact that it was affiliated with a denomination. Most supported the decision I had taken. I set out with the same prayer on my lips that I had spoken in college when I began sorting through the tangle of church options. That was thirteen years ago. In seminary I found not indoctrination, but an environment that sharpened my wits and deepened my understanding of what the Lord had already taught me in His word. Today, I am a pastor - the very thing I told myself I would never be - and am daily amazed and humbled by it. The Lord is good!
I was raised in a Christian home (my father was a pastor) and made a public profession of faith at the age of six. It was a Sunday evening service at North Gate Baptist Church in Wheaton, Maryland. The congregation was singing, “ . . . earnestly, tenderly Jesus is calling – calling all sinners, ‘Come home.’” Though not understanding all that the words meant, I was suddenly impressed very strongly with the idea that with Jesus there was safety. I walked to the front of the church where the pastor stood. He asked me something like, “Do you want to ask Jesus into your heart?” I nodded in the affirmative, and was baptized not long after. It would be another twenty years before I would begin to comprehend what had transpired that night between my soul and God.
In the intervening years, my life developed into a futile attempt to follow two contradictory paths. Unaware of the forces at work within me, I lead an increasingly conflicted life. By the time I was in college, I had become a social chameleon, able to blend into whatever surroundings I found myself – Christian, or far from it. In my heart, however, there was no peace. I felt in every circumstance as though I was on the outside looking in, but never able to enter into my experiences wholeheartedly. It was as if someone was holding my belt from behind as I leaned out over a steep precipice. I’m sure that I confused and hurt a few people along the way.
Late one lonely, drunken Saturday night I could no longer run from my miserable emptiness. I fell asleep sobbing in my dorm room, still with no hint as to why. Late the next morning, unable to wait tables at work because of the night before, I wandered into the TV room. The room was empty, but the television was on and “Chariots Of Fire” was just beginning on HBO. By the time the movie ended, so had my conflict. My path from that point became clear. God had taught me through experience what it meant to be a sinner, and what it meant to obey Christ’s call to come home and have forgiveness in Him. And so, I began to understand.
The next several years were a time of great blessing and growth. My heart was light with the realization of God’s love and patience to me in Christ. My circle of friends changed as that realization became increasingly more visible to my unsaved friends. I met other Christians on campus and began attending church again after a long absence.
My new friends and acquaintances invited me to a variety of Christian organizations for students. Their diversity formed a cross section of church traditions. And, as I attended their functions and bible studies, I was confronted with their doctrinal distinctives and the ensuing debates. From liberal to fundamentalist – from Pentecostal to orthodox – from contemporary to traditional I made the rounds at church on Sundays, listening, searching the scriptures, questioning, discussing, praying, and asking the Lord to lead me to what was of Him and to keep me safe from what was not. All the while, each group offered their sincere assurance that their interpretations of God’s Word were certainly the right ones.
Finally, with several of my closest friends at the time, I settled into a fairly new, quasi-charismatic, “nondenominational,” contemporary church. There was a great sense of belonging and community in a very informal, non-traditional atmosphere. The regular Sunday “teaching” from the pastor was based on a passage of the Bible. The close congregation of young families and students studied God’s Word regularly. We spoke freely and openly about what the Lord was teaching us and doing in our lives, and listened to each other with great interest and enthusiasm. During praise and worship, the music was inspiring, the passion was palpable, and many would afterwards remark how they could feel the Spirit moving.
It was here that I stayed for several years, studying God’s Word and praying for direction in my life in general. It was a wonderful time of growth in faith and knowledge. And, it was here that the Lord gave me the greatest blessing (other than salvation) He has given to me – my wife.
Still, something was wrong. I felt a growing discomfort within my soul, but could not identify anything specific to which I might attribute it. The only real peace I found was in the writings I was discovering – writings of godly men from the past (Anglicans, Lutherans, Baptists, Presbyterians, Anabaptists, and others) who were able to open the scriptures to me in a way that others did not or could not. Some were great scholars. Others had a minimum of formal education. As I read their words with my Bible open beside them, one thing stood out in common above their denominational distinctions. They knew Jesus. They knew Him in a way that I did not. And through their words they made me want to know Him as they did.
At some point during this time of searching I had two dreams that I remember vividly to this day. In the first, I was a child at home feeling the sense of comfort and safety again that a good home gives to children. The feeling, in part, was the result of the cleanness of our home. I felt perfectly at ease as a child under or behind furniture because I trusted that nothing bad would be waiting for me there and “get me.” In this first dream, that sense of trust was shaken by the image of a flood of creepy-crawly things pouring out from beneath the furniture I was resting near on the floor. The second dream consisted of the simple image of Jesus standing between the church and the world, beckoning me to follow Him.
How to understand the dreams came to me quickly. The first dream was a warning that I should always be on my guard, even when I am tempted to feel at ease in my Christian life and religious circumstances. Appearances, and especially feelings, can be deceptive. The second implied that the path that Christ walked, and to which He calls His people, was not of the world (obviously), but in some sense neither was it to be found in the visible church. The way of Christ is wholly unique.
The immediate reason for these dreams was shortly made evident to me. After much soul and scripture searching and a long series of conversations with my pastor, the Lord showed me that danger is not always to be found in what is said. Sometimes it lies in what is left unsaid. The messages and teachings at church were orthodox in their content so far as they went. But, they simply, habitually, consistently failed to present all the counsel of God, and (unwittingly I trust) encouraged a false sense of security. Eventually, my wife and I left our church. After some time visiting other churches here and there, we began hosting informal, house church meetings. Over the course of the next ten years, we met regularly with other believers from various backgrounds, had three beautiful children, and I spent the majority of my free time continuing my studies of Scripture and the writings of many of the most influential men in church history. The Lord was pleased during this time to show me His path more clearly.
The philosophy undergirding my studies was based upon an observation I had read by Sir Francis Bacon. “Reading maketh a full man, writing an exact man, and conference a ready man.” Reading indeed made me full, but I felt a need for disciplined writing and challenging conference. At last, I gave in to the calling that I first began to understand that Sunday afternoon watching “Chariots Of Fire;” the calling I first heard that Sunday evening so long ago as a child; the calling from which I now realized I had been running all my life. I quit my job, sold our house, packed up my family, and pursued formal training to be a minister of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
It was a controversial decision among our congregation. Part was of the opinion that seminary ruins men with too much teaching and too many books, so that they cannot hear God. They were fond of calling it “cemetary.” Others thought the seminary I chose was apostate by virtue of the fact that it was affiliated with a denomination. Most supported the decision I had taken. I set out with the same prayer on my lips that I had spoken in college when I began sorting through the tangle of church options. That was thirteen years ago. In seminary I found not indoctrination, but an environment that sharpened my wits and deepened my understanding of what the Lord had already taught me in His word. Today, I am a pastor - the very thing I told myself I would never be - and am daily amazed and humbled by it. The Lord is good!
Friday, January 01, 2010
Come Now Let Us Reason Together
Before I go any further, let me just say that I’m well aware there will be those who disagree with some, and perhaps even all, of what I write here. Each of us must choose for himself the path he will walk, and then reap the blessings or consequences. That decision will be based to a large extent upon ideas, which we must either receive as truth or reject as error. The process of reasoning together over Scripture is one of God’s means by which we may sort out the one from the other. If this doesn’t conform to your concept of spirituality, I’m sorry to disappoint. It is, however, the nature of the thing.
Reason has fallen on hard times in many Christian circles. Some well meaning believers would argue that regarding the intellect somehow clouds spiritual insight and dulls the soul’s ear to the voice of the Holy Spirit. The world has indeed exalted the human mind to a level of idolatrous devotion. And, it must be acknowledged that among the churches there are those who revel in the ability to out debate all comers. Guess what – fallen human nature perverts stuff. If the hand of the natural man touches it, even the Scriptures themselves cannot escape. But man’s perversion makes no less good what God has begotten for His people.
Rather than quench the Holy Spirit, prayerful reason attunes the believer’s mind to His. Reason is merely the ordering of our thoughts – a frail imitation of our Heavenly Father’s majestic mind. God is the great architect of order, calling forth form and harmony out of chaos. He is orderly in all His thoughts, works, and purposes. Creation declares it. His Word confirms it. The absence of reason in our thought life is the absence of order. The absence of order is confusion, of which we know God is not the author. Reject reason embrace confusion.
When the Lord, through His prophet Isaiah, invited Judah to reason with Him concerning their sin, the word He used indicated a dispute between two parties for the purpose of resolving their differences (Isaiah 1.18). If in some point or other you discern error in what you find here, I invite you to reason with me that we may resolve the differences between us and together come to the truth.
God has provided direction for such a dispute between believers. There were many competing ideas floating about in the New Testament churches, just as there are today. In Ephesians 4, we find that believers were being “tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine.” God told them (and tells us) to “come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God” by “speaking the truth in love.” The goal is to build up one another, not tear down. When we shun out of fear what the Lord has given for our good, we reveal that in our hearts we distrust Him and think ourselves wiser.
In Proverbs 27:17 God tells us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” When iron strikes iron there is a loud noise and occasionally sparks. Let’s not let these tokens of animation frighten us. With self set aside, they simply show that we are earnestly engaged in a pursuit of the truth as it is in Jesus Christ. We are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, AND mind! Let us, therefore, rejoice when any idea (ANY idea), no matter how dear to our hearts, is shaken and falls to the ground. For God’s truth is unshakeable. May we ever seek together with other believers the sure, firm, and stable footing of the King’s highway, for our good and His glory.
Reason has fallen on hard times in many Christian circles. Some well meaning believers would argue that regarding the intellect somehow clouds spiritual insight and dulls the soul’s ear to the voice of the Holy Spirit. The world has indeed exalted the human mind to a level of idolatrous devotion. And, it must be acknowledged that among the churches there are those who revel in the ability to out debate all comers. Guess what – fallen human nature perverts stuff. If the hand of the natural man touches it, even the Scriptures themselves cannot escape. But man’s perversion makes no less good what God has begotten for His people.
Rather than quench the Holy Spirit, prayerful reason attunes the believer’s mind to His. Reason is merely the ordering of our thoughts – a frail imitation of our Heavenly Father’s majestic mind. God is the great architect of order, calling forth form and harmony out of chaos. He is orderly in all His thoughts, works, and purposes. Creation declares it. His Word confirms it. The absence of reason in our thought life is the absence of order. The absence of order is confusion, of which we know God is not the author. Reject reason embrace confusion.
When the Lord, through His prophet Isaiah, invited Judah to reason with Him concerning their sin, the word He used indicated a dispute between two parties for the purpose of resolving their differences (Isaiah 1.18). If in some point or other you discern error in what you find here, I invite you to reason with me that we may resolve the differences between us and together come to the truth.
God has provided direction for such a dispute between believers. There were many competing ideas floating about in the New Testament churches, just as there are today. In Ephesians 4, we find that believers were being “tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine.” God told them (and tells us) to “come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God” by “speaking the truth in love.” The goal is to build up one another, not tear down. When we shun out of fear what the Lord has given for our good, we reveal that in our hearts we distrust Him and think ourselves wiser.
In Proverbs 27:17 God tells us, “As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” When iron strikes iron there is a loud noise and occasionally sparks. Let’s not let these tokens of animation frighten us. With self set aside, they simply show that we are earnestly engaged in a pursuit of the truth as it is in Jesus Christ. We are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, AND mind! Let us, therefore, rejoice when any idea (ANY idea), no matter how dear to our hearts, is shaken and falls to the ground. For God’s truth is unshakeable. May we ever seek together with other believers the sure, firm, and stable footing of the King’s highway, for our good and His glory.
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