Category: Church

Jesus’ last words recorded in Matthew are referred to as The Great Commission (28:18-20). His statement is rooted in the imperative command to “Make Disciples,” followed by three participles stated with imperative force, “Going,” “Baptizing,” and “Teaching.” While it’s unfortunate our English translations fail to communicate Matthew’s intent, the essence of the Great Commission is still felt. The followers of Christ were far from restricting themselves to four walls.

In the days following Pentecost the disciple regularly met in two locations: temple courts and in each other’s homes (Act. 2:46). As an offshoot of the Jewish faith, these disciples saw the value of a large place like the temple grounds for gatherings, teaching and sharing. Many people naturally gravitated to the temple, so contact with them was possible in order to share the good news Jesus offered. But they also met in homes, where the setting limited the gathering so intimacy and friendship could deepen. Because of these two places, the early disciples understood that faith was beyond four walls.

When the disciple began facing threats and persecution (Act. 8:1,3), many left the region taking the gospel with them. By the time Paul began establishing churches in gentile communities, the standard meeting places became the home (e.g. Rom. 16:5a; Philemon 2). That does not mean Paul never met outside the home. He went to the Synagogues (Act. 13:5, 14; 18:4), places of prayer (Act. 16:13) and to the marketplace (Act. 17:19; 19:9-10). Even still, the home seemed to be the cornerstone for the church as they were never caged within four walls.

The cornerstone of American churches has been the building. On the frontier, the first construction built was often the church, and it was usually situated in the center of the new town. To gain legitimacy, the religious groups needed a physical presence in a community. Carried over from the Latin was a misunderstanding of the word for church. In essence, the Greek word for church always referred to people while in the Latin associated itself to structure. The correlation between “church” and a building has been so strong that the structure became the source for faith and in many cases more important than the people who worship within the four walls.

For the past few months Churches in America have been sailing through uncharted waters. Social distancing have shut down our buildings, and only recently have they opened up again. Even still, most churches who have opened are implementing forms of social distancing (i.e., shorter services, seating is spaced, no trays are passed, etc.). Online teaching services continue and seem to be filling a void in people’s spiritual lives. Without seeing members at “services,” intentional contact has been on the rise. We text and call people just to “check-in.” We’re following up on neighbors and friends to make sure all is well. We’re finding that the church is far from the limitations of four walls.

What the future holds is always uncertain, though clearly God holds us in his hands. But that day will come when everything is set back to “normal” – and that day will come. Our Sunday morning services will be at full swing with Bible classes and potlucks. Groups will safely be using the facility throughout the week again. The fears of the COVID-19 virus will be a distant memory. Let’s remember, more than ever, how the life of the church is beyond four walls.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

Christian living is filled with power as well as weakness, mountain top experiences along with valley occurrences, promises accompanied by fulfillments, and exhilarating moments together with mundane ones. Such is seen in a “throwaway” kind of statement Luke makes when Jesus returned to his hometown, Nazareth.

As Jesus entered the town, the Spirit was powerfully working in/through him (Lk. 4:14). One can only imagine what Luke meant. Jesus’ ministry had yet to begin (at least as laid out by Luke), so what demonstration of “power” is on him? Clearly, we can point to his baptism (3:21-22) and his defeat of Satan in the wilderness (4:1-13). And as Jesus’ ministry unfolds, we’ll note his miracles, his teachings, his love for folks, his insightfulness to people’s hearts, and his ability to thwart or absorb verbal attacks and criticisms. Yes, his unmistakable evidence is present that the Spirit had taken root in Jesus. And as we sit on the edge of our seats, we can’t wait to read what Jesus does next.

What we do read, though, is kind of a letdown. What he did next was that he simply attended the local synagogue, “as was his custom.” He had a pattern, a routine, a habit, a schedule. On Saturday, when his fellow Jews gathered at the Synagogue, he joined them. It’s a moment that doesn’t grab your attention or “wow” you. Jesus simply shows up where Scripture is read, prayers are led and encouragment is offered. And, according to Luke, he did this every Sabbath (i.e. Saturday). Every. Single. Sabbath.

The Synagogue history is a bit of a quagmire. When we close the books on the Old Testament, we have no mention of the Synagogue and it’s clearly not endorsed by Moses and the Law. Some have found possible hints of the Synagogue in Ezekiel and Nehemiah, but those are strongly debated. Most scholars will tell you that the Synagogue arose during the diaspora as a means to fill a void in the Jewish spiritual life. With Jews (i.e. people from Judea) having no access to a temple where sacrifices were made and with their national identity in question, a void was instantaneously created that needed filled. Priests required a place to read Scripture and to instruct on matters of faith. Israel craved local places to meet together to pray and to be instructed. Thus, most likely, the Synagogue came into being during the Babylonian exile. The acceptance of a local place to pray and hear instruction from Scripture was so relevant and popular, the Jews brought it back with them from captivity. And 400 years later, it’s woven into the very fabric of Jewish culture. So much so that Jesus makes it his own weekly priority to gather with the saints.

But let’s be honest, the weekly gathering with the saints is far short of sensational. It’s mundane.

We witness the struggle from within. The singing is too often off pitch, too slow and, who wants to learn a new song anyway? The prayers usually reflect the spiritual shallowness of the person praying. The Lord’s Supper feels rushed because of the uncomfortable silence. The sermon is too long and irrelevant. Relationships with each other is strained and drains the time together. In the process we forget that the “audience” for the worship is not the people who gather, but the One who gathers us together. 

We witness the struggle from without. Everything seems to keep luring and pulling us away from Sunday. Sleep ties us to our beds. Stress from the week builds to a point we cannot cope with the stress of getting ready for “church.” Apathy sets in because, “Who really cares if I show up or not?” The work around the house still needs done. The kids are all committed to sports or other extracurricular activities. Vacations. And all the while, the people down at the lake are all a lot nicer than the ones at church.

And the weekly gathering with the saints is so monotonous. And yet where do we find Jesus?

So Jesus shows up for “church”* because that “was his custom.” And if we point to his baptism as a logical argument for our baptism (e.g. “what’s good enough for him is good enough for me”), then that logic applies to his weekly attendance with saints too. And in the tediousness of making it to services, every … single … week, I think even he finds some joy,  

“I will declare your name to my brothers;
In the presence of the congregation* I will sing your praise.”
(Hebrews 4:12 quoting Psalm 22:22)

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

* The word “congregation” is the Greek word, ekklesia, which means, “assembly” but is often translated “church.”

Something special happens on Sundays, but defining what that “something special” is often leads to debate. Some refer to Sunday as “Going to church,” which is misleading because America’s use of the word, “church,” denotes a building instead of a group of people. Others talk less about “church” and instead speak about “Going to preachin’,” which highlights the importance placed on the bulk of our time together. In other words, the statement reflects that half the time we spend together is spent listening to the sermon. Something special happens on Sundays, but what exactly is it?

For most of us, the sermon has always been center stage to our Sunday time together. But it may not have always been that way. According to Dan Dozier, Come Let Us Adore Him (College Press, 1994), a perception-shift occurred during the rise of the Revival/Gospel Meeting (R/GM) era. While other factors came into play – the located preacher, use of electricity and the Sunday evening services – the R/GM may have had negative consequences to the weekly service.

Local congregations began wanting to duplicate the success of the R/GM in both conversions and quality of preaching. I don’t really blame them. Repentance and renewal was evident in the number of people responding to the invitation call to dedicate/rededicate their lives to God. The largest response was probably the number of baptisms that took place during the R/GM era. So the common thought was that if we could elevate the quality of preaching on Sundays and direct it at the non-believer, then we could experience the R/GM fifty-two Sundays a year. People will repent and baptisms will increase. Such thinking shaped our Sundays into the kind of “something special” we often hoped for, but leaving us empty.

Two problems came with this shift in thinking. First, we thought if we had the right model, we’d find the right results. What was missing was both the amount of prayer and hard work that went into the R/GM gatherings. The church prayed for the lost and went out into the community to plant the seed for the preacher during the R/GM. The response during the invitation was the church celebrating the harvest of those repenting from sins and renewing their covenant with God.

Secondly, it placed an unbalanced weight on preaching or conversion as the reason for the gathering. Instead of the assembly being driven by mutual edification for the saints (1 Cor. 14:26b), its drive is for the outsiders (even that focus is poorly executed). While the sermon may be geared toward the “sinner,” it’s shaped to appeal to the “saints.” Songs are sung that the church loves but usually unknown to outsiders. And what are non-believers and seekers supposed to do with the Lord’s Supper?

Maybe the “something special” was never about converting a person during a thirty minute sermon on Sunday morning. Certainly, the element of the worship is a witness to the non-believer (1 Cor. 14:23), but those who assemble are believers. They are the ones who experience the “something special.”

Acts 20:7 may shed some light onto what the “something special” is. The verse reads, “On the first day of the week we came together to break bread.” While this verse is no stranger to us, we may have missed its own cue. Instead of debating when the church met to break bread, we should ask, “What drove the church to assemble in the first place?” According to this verse, instead of coming together to worship, out of which they partook of the Lord’s Supper; they came together for the Lord’s Supper, out of which they worshiped.

The focus of our time together is not on preaching or converting (though both are important), but about sharing this meal together (which may be a good reason to deeply explore the implications of the Lord’s Supper more often). When we recline at the Table with our Savior and Break Bread with one another, then and only then, will we experience something special.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

Churches, like many other organizations, are often plagued by power-struggles. Tension is felt as people wander who’s in control. The struggle is felt when a new minister arrives to assess the congregation before him. The minister must figure out two important dynamics. Who is the formal leadership and who is the informal leadership. The formal leadership are those who hold the titles (elder, deacon, board member, etc.), while the informal leaders are the members who actually make the church run (often times they are the ones with the money or a hard working member). While the focus is on churches, the reality is that every organization has this dynamic at play because it’s human nature.

In order to address the power structure and keep it from turning into a struggle, churches have traditionally chosen different ways to format their organization. The “Pastoral-driven” format gives the minister the power to set the agenda and vision for the church. He may answer to a board, but he’s clearly in charge. Some pastoral churches are actually “Committee-driven,” where the Pastor is a member of every committee. Thus he has a say and influence over every aspect of the church, but is not running the church. Finally, the “Elder-driven” format has a group of spiritually discerning men within the church lead and give direction to the church.

Each of these format holds strengths and weaknesses. Each finds themselves ultimately trapped in a power struggle, they’re trying to avoid, searching for a better model to follow. Maybe the book of Acts can shed light on this dilemma.

By the time we open to the fifteenth chapter of Acts the church is clearly comprised of two ethnic groups. The Jews, who’ve been part of God’s story for 2000 years, and the Gentiles whom God had recently begun grafting into his story. Some of those from the Jewish-Christian group began setting an agenda for the Gentiles to be circumcised in order to be saved (Act. 15:1,5). Suddenly, a power-struggle ensued between this group and Paul (15:2) as power-struggles are never good for the church. When the truth of the Gospel is a casualty in a power-struggle, the church and its credibility loses.  

Everyone wants a voice and say in the direction of the church, but Acts 15 is clear about two facts. First, not everyone has a right to speak into the direction of the church. The ones advocating circumcision were soon confronted and quieted. They were speaking outside of God’s will for his church. In an era of social media and multiple churches with easy access, it’s easy to believe everyone has a voice and say in the direction of the church. Acts 15, and other places, stand against such a position. Not everyone has a right to set the agenda of the church.

However, someone has to give direction to the church. When the leaders met in Jerusalem, Peter, Paul and Barnabas, James and the elders assembled to discuss the issue. When Peter spoke, he described how he was led by God and the Holy Spirit (v. 7-8) to baptize Cornelius without him needing circumcised. Paul and Barnabas shared their experience among the Gentiles, which was underscored by the wonders God performed through them (v. 11). James concluded the meeting by pointing to God’s words through the prophet, Amos (v. 16-18). The theme of God and the Holy Spirit sets the agenda for the church, which is the second fact made clear, not only the book of Acts in general, but Acts 15 in particular.

So God is the one who sets the agenda, and our job is to line up with him.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

During the darkest moments of the Great Depression, Albert Bromley penned a hymn that resonated with Christians who found themselves on the victim side of stock market crash. The hymn underscored hope by reminding the church we’re on a journey through this world, and our destination is in the beyond. While the song refrains from saying we’re in Exile, it’s clear we’re not living in the Promised Land either.

The imagery of “Promised Land” and “Exile” are both rooted in Scripture. The Promised Land was the stretch of property guaranteed to Israel at the time of Abraham. Following 400 years of captivity, Moses then Joshua led them in the conquest of the land. For the next 1000 years they tamed the land and built a society governed by the very laws God gave them. Unfortunately, they were not faithful to God and he sent them into Exile. Quickly, they were foreigners in a strange land, held captive against their will. They had no say. They had no power. They had no voice. Whatever laws and customs they brought with them were subject to the laws and customs of their captors. Yes, a few found favor in the government, but they were few and far between.

For those of faith, life in the Promised Land versus life in Exile are two very different experiences. Living in the Promised Land means we’re insiders who fit into society, while living in Exile means we don’t fit in nor really belong. Living in the Promised Land means what we have is permanent, while living in Exile means the conditions are temporary. Living in the Promised Land means we subject the darker forces to a higher power, while living in Exile means we’re subjected to the darker powers. Living in the Promised Land means we own, control and define the culture, while living in Exile means we have little say into controlling and defining culture. Living in the Promised Land means we are in the majority, while living in Exile means we’re part of the minority. Living in the Promised Land is an Old Testament image, while living in Exile is a New Testament image.

The question is which image best describes the church? Are we a church living in the Promised Land or are we a church living in Exile?  In some parts of the world it’s easy to see how the church is in Exile. China keeps a tight rein on churches and Middle-East regions are often antagonistic to the Christian faith. The church in America has felt like we’re living in the Promised Land. We’re guaranteed the right to assemble and to share our faith. We have voting rights. Much of our laws and culture is still rooted in the Christian faith. America is often referred to as a “Christian” nation. Is it possible that it’s all an illusion?

Maybe one of the issues we’re facing today is that we’re trying to live in the Promised Land, and the reality is we’re living in Exile. Peter is the one who reminds us that we are “strangers,” “aliens,” “foreigners,” “refugees,” “temporarily residing,” and “sojourners” (multiple translations from 1 Pet. 1:1) and are encouraged to embrace this role as an “outsider” while living in this world (1 Pet. 2:11). As much as we want to fit in, we don’t. As much as we want to live in the Promised Land, we’re struggle to live in Exile. Maybe the words written in 1936, which resonated with the victims of the Great Depression, still resonate with us because deep down we know we’re living in Exile. 

This world’s not my home, I’m just a passing through;
My treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue;
The angels beckon me from heaven’s open door
and I can’t feel at home in this world anymore.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

“ … you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house …” (1 Pet. 2:5).

The baseball diamond sitting in the Iowa corn fields is almost as iconic as the tagline for the movie, “If you build it, they will come.” Ray Kinsella, a failing farmer, heard voices telling him to convert his farmlands into a playground. They said he was crazy. They accused him of being nuts. Had he been in the sun too long? But he built it and they came. First, a slew of blackballed baseball players from the great beyond, or simply within the cornfields, emerged to play on Ray’s field. Then, at the end of the movie, a throng of spectators came to pay good money to watch these guys play America’s favorite pastime.

It wasn’t heaven. It was Iowa.

God is in the midst of a construction process. He’s not converting corn fields into baseball fields, he’s converting damaged people into a great house. He’s developing an organization, he’s creating an organism. He’s not building buildings, he’s building a kingdom one person at a time. In the process he’s hoping they’ll come . . . to him.  

I love church. I’ve spent my entire life streaming in the lifeblood of church, and I’ve given my adult years to preaching in a local church. I wish building a church was as easy as converting cornfields into baseball fields. But like baseball, American churches are losing the ratings battle and under fire. Sundays stand in direct competition with so many other extra-curricular activities. It’s hard to choose church over a weekend at the lake, isn’t it? It’s hard to prioritize church when we’re worn out from a long week. It’s hard to prop church up as the best event of the week, when it’s clearly not. But I still love church.

When God builds his church, we can find a number of purposes or functions for the construction. First, he’s providing a community linked to the present and to the past. His church has been in play for 2000 years and when we gather we connect with the saints of old while we live in the modern world. We also connect with saints present and not present. When Sunshine’s group heads to Honduras, our gathering will be connected to their gathering, though in two different nations. We have each other. Church, and more specifically Christianity, was never meant to be an individual experience, but lived out in community.

Secondly, the church provides the means to express and nurture faith. When we assemble we have the greatest opportunity to vocalize our confession and beliefs. Our songs and prayers announce our trust in God. Partaking of the Supper visually represents our commitment to the Savior and to each other. With churches come multi-generational layers so that the old may stand with the young. Old folks get to witness the enthusiasm and hope of the young, while the youth get to enjoy the deep streams of faithful living. Like sharpening iron, bringing old and young together makes us sharper, not duller.

Finally, the church is where God is glorified (Eph. 3:21). Our works are conducted, not to boost our name in the community, but to boost God’s name. The world is looking for God, and his church gives the world some of the best evidence for God’s presence. So when God transforms people we don’t take the credit, but credit him for the work he’s doing in our lives.

When the church is at its best, people will look for God in church. But the loyal community, the environment for faith to grow and where God is truly glorified must be in place. Only then will people ask us, “Is this heaven?” We can humbly say, “No. It’s just church.”

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)