No Fudges Allowed

Schoolyard justice can be harsh. Take for example the game of marbles. When shooting your marble, the rule was you keep your hand on the ground, and you only use your thumb to launch your marble. If you lift your hand, or if even if you keep your hand on the ground but use your arm to push your hand as you flick your thumb, you are “fudging” and that simply was not allowed. Justice might not be corporal, but it was certainly swift. Your opponent would call you out, and as there were always at least some spectators standing nearby, your crime would not go unnoticed. Punishment might simply be losing your turn, but in cases of repeat offenders, the possibility of excommunication from future contests was  very real.

In my last couple of posts I have challenged what is generally referred to as the “egalitarian” position regarding expanding the role of females in leadership positions in the assembled worship of the church. Some may think that I whole heartedly and unreservedly defend the “complementarian” view. They would be wrong. I wholeheartedly defend what I believe is the scriptural concept of male spiritual leadership, but what I see in many examples of “complementarianism” are nothing more than pure theological fudging. So, at the great risk of offending whatever few friends I have left, let me explain.

Let me begin by saying that much of what we have created in the form of our 21st century worship is wholly non-scriptural – not unscriptural in the sense that it rejects scriptural teaching – but it is simply not considered by Scripture. For example, there is no scriptural mandate for a single “song leader.” Not that a single song leader countermands Scripture, but you can search “book, chapter, and verse” for a long, long, time before you find one that mandates a single song leader. The manner in which we serve the emblems of the Lord’s Supper fits this category exactly, and is among the chief examples of “fudging” that I see in congregations of the Churches of Christ.

Over the course of our history we have come to view serving the Lord’s Supper as a form of male spiritual leadership. I really don’t know where that started, unless it is a faint memory of the necessity of having a priest preside over the Catholic Mass. In fact, early in the Restoration Movement it was common to have only an elder preside over the table – a clear echo of the liturgical necessity of having an ordained clergyman to administer the emblems. Never-the-less, we have traditionally considered “serving at the table” to be a male-only privilege. And this is where we have evolved ourselves into a huge problem.

Throughout my lifetime at least it has become a prima facie truth that no one is allowed to serve at the table unless that one is anatomically a male. But, not just any male, but a baptized male. That is where the requirements stopped. Be a male, be baptized, and you are good to go. The way this has played itself out in many situations is comical. I have seen 8 or 10 year olds “assume the mantle of leadership” as they struggle to carry a tray of little cups of grape juice without tripping over their oversized pants. It would be utterly facetious if we gave that same 8-10 year old any form of decision making power in the congregation, but as long as they are officially baptized, we can stick him up front to serve at the table, or say a prayer (memorized no doubt from all the stock prayers he has heard all his short life) or to “lead” singing (waiting to have someone from row 5 start the song while he stands there sweating profusely).

Same thing happens in regard to Bible classes. A woman is allowed to teach a mixed class of fourth graders, but let one little boy get baptized and “poof,” her ability to teach a “baptized male” evaporates and we have to call some hapless deacon in to finish teaching the class.

I call “fudging” in the most egregious sense!

Stated simply and without apology, those of us who proclaim to follow the text in regard to male spiritual leadership had better up our game, or else take our marbles and go home. This hypocritical practice of allowing some pre-teen child to exercise “male spiritual leadership” is just that – hypocrisy in the extreme. In this case I am in complete sympathy with young girls (and some women) who cry “fudgies” and wonder what in the world is so special about carrying a tray of grape juice.

Either participating in a visible form and function in a worship service is an aspect of male spiritual leadership, or it is not – there is no gray area or “sometimes it is, and sometimes it is not.” I happen to think it is, and I have my reasons, but my main issue here is where we would NEVER give any form of actual leadership roles to a pre-teen male, and yet loudly squeal that serving at the Lord’s Table or leading a prayer or reading a Scripture is a form of “male spiritual leadership.”

If such public forms of service also qualify as “leadership,” then let us reserve those roles for genuine, adult, male leaders!

I can hear the counter argument already – “but we are training these young men to be leaders when they grow up.” No, we are not. When we say that serving at the table, or leading a song, are actual forms of leadership, there is no “training” involved. They are in fact serving as leaders. The hypocrisy comes in when we acknowledge that they are not, in reality, in any way, shape, or form, a spiritual leader. They are (even teenagers) just little boys or young men who need spiritual leadership themselves, and sometimes in copious measure.

If, as you say, serving at the table or leading a song, or saying a prayer, is only “training,” then why not allow young girls to participate as soon as they are baptized? Do girls not need to learn to pray, to lead singing, to read Scripture, to serve? If the purpose is only to “train,” then the entire argument of “male spiritual leadership” goes out the window.

There is a passage of Scripture (remember Scripture?) that is profound to me in this regard. In Luke 2:41-52 we read the story of adolescent Jesus at the temple. We all know the story, Joseph and Mary head off back home thinking that Jesus is tucked in with the cousins somewhere, but at evening roll call he is nowhere to be found. So, they return to Jerusalem, and after what must have been an increasingly anxious and exhaustive search, they find Jesus holding court at the Temple. A brief (but, I am assuming an intense) conversation ensues, and once again the entourage heads back to Nazareth. This is all so familiar to those of us who read this story frequently. But it is v. 51 that stands out as singularly important to me in respect to my thoughts above. I quote from the ESV –

And he went down with them and came to Nazareth and was submissive to them.

Jesus, the Son of God, God incarnate, Emmanuel, “God with Us” as a 12 year old boy, capable of teaching the temple leaders, was submissive to both Joseph and Mary.

Is there a place for training young men to become leaders? Absolutely. And this holds true for older men who become disciples of Christ later in life. But we do not consider males (or females, for that matter) be be mature in any sense until they demonstrate some form of ability to handle responsibilities without significant assistance – such as serving in the military, getting married, or maybe stepping out of the house and starting their own business or providing for their own upkeep and schooling. I am in no way suggesting that we do not train, or properly equip, young men and women to serve Christ as responsible adults.

Lest I be completely misunderstood, I am not saying we throw out the idea of male spiritual leadership in such aspects as serving at the table, leading singing, wording public prayers and reading Scripture. As I said above, I do believe these to be leadership roles, and I believe there is ample scriptural and theological arguments to defend such a position. In regard to serving the emblems of the Lord’s supper, I also believe there is a completely better and more scriptural manner to do so that would remove this issue entirely, but that is the topic of another long and tedious post.

What I am saying, and believe emphatically, is that male spiritual leadership should be exercised by males who are old enough, and mature enough, and who are recognized as exhibiting sound, mature, spiritual leadership. In my opinion this includes, but would not be limited to, serving at the table (which, if we limit to males we obviously view as a leadership role), leading in the song service, reading Scripture in a public assembly, or going to God in public prayer.

In the quest to ascend by climbing lower,  there is no fudging allowed.

Does Architecture Matter?

Strange question for this Friday – which has absolutely nothing to do with any cataclysmic issues of the day. But, this funny question popped into my mind. To be honest, I am utterly conflicted. My answer is no, but, really, yes.

I am the product of a non-liturgical church. The churches of Christ in which I was raised went out of their way to be non-liturgical. In fact, we developed an entire liturgy to declare our non-liturgicalness. Our ministers wore no special garments, studiously avoided any special recognition (woe be to the funeral director who attached the epithet, “Rev.” onto the preacher’s name!) Our choirs wore no special robes because we never had a choir – the congregation was the choir!! There were no “special days” – and most likely the preacher preached on the resurrection of Jesus the week before December 25, and preached on the birth of Jesus the day everyone else was celebrating the resurrection. Our services had no uniform “liturgy” as such, except that the routine of opening prayer, three songs, Lord’s Supper, song, sermon, song and closing prayer could be predicted within a verse or two of having a universal application. That’s what I mean by having a liturgy of non-liturgicalness. Heaven help the poor soul who dared to rearrange any aspect of our worship.

This “low church” approach was especially evident in the architecture of our buildings.There were no stained glass windows, no crosses, and certainly no crucifixes. The only piece of furniture that could even remotely be considered “high church” was a simple table with the words “Do This in Remembrance of Me” or perhaps even just “In Remembrance of Me” carved or emblazoned on the front. Our buildings were constructed to be utilitarian, not expressive. The main room was not a “sanctuary,” it was an “auditorium,” designed for the specific purpose of having something “heard.” Classrooms were added alongside the auditorium, or in an adjacent “education” wing. If there was a “fellowship” hall, it was  quite often detached from the “auditorium” so that there would be no confusion as to what purpose each room was constructed.

Most, but not all, of that changed when the Churches of Christ “crossed the tracks” and became respected, and respectable, members of the community. Our buildings became more ornate – some even had stained glass windows installed! – but the basic utilitarian nature of the building never changed. It is still the very rare congregation that displays a cross behind the pulpit, “praise teams” abound but there are very, very few “choirs,” and only the most pompous preachers would dare to wear a clerical robe or accept the title, “Reverend.”

I contrast that with the most common “high church” architecture. I think of the massive cathedrals in Europe, and even many of the fabulous church buildings in the United States. I grew up just a few miles from one of the most beautiful Spanish churches in the United States in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I still love to visit that and other Roman Catholic churches in my home state. They are beautiful, ornately constructed, and the architecture conveys a message that our utilitarian church just simply cannot convey.

For one, the interior of the buildings lifts the worshipper’s view upward. There is a feeling that, when you enter the main worship center, you are called to experience something greater than yourself. In a pre-literate society, pictures, statuary, and architecture was the primary way of communicating the holiness and transcendence of God. The manner in which the church was constructed was a silent, yet powerful, way of communicating a basic truth: God is greater than the worshipper and a measure of respect and awe was due when one entered the place where God was to be worshipped.

Even the exterior of the building conveys this truth: the spires and the other forms of elevating the worshippers eyes let the person know this is a building like no other. When you enter here, you are entering sacred space – leave the world outside. Enter his courts with joy and thanksgiving, to be sure, but remember whose courts you are entering, and respond appropriately.

Compare that with the modern combination of a “worship” space and a basketball court. Who is being worshipped? God or LeBron James?

I said in my opening paragraph that I am utterly conflicted. On the one hand, it matters not in what kind of building we worship. We can worship in a house, in a rented store-front, in a cave or in a tent. Or, we can worship in an ornate, classically constructed cathedral decorated with beautiful stained glass windows and majestic arches. The apostle Paul was equally content to worship in a synagogue (which, as archeology has proven, were often incredibly ornate and beautiful) or gathered with fellow worshippers by a stream.

But, to be honest and straightforward, when God told Moses how to construct the tabernacle, and when David instructed Solomon how to construct the temple, there was to be no limit on how beautiful the physical structures were to be built. The purpose determined the result. If it is to be God’s house, if the purpose is to praise and to worship a holy and transcendent God, wouldn’t it make sense to have that house, that worship center, the most beautiful and glorious that we could make it? This is where I struggle the most with our utilitarian focus. If all we do is gather together to listen to a lecture and sing a few songs, then who cares what the building looks like.

But . . . if we are gathered into His Presence, if we are present with His Holy Spirit, if the creator of the universe descends to “tabernacle” with us, doesn’t it just make sense to signify that presence with architecture that reflects that presence?

As always, thanks for considering my meandering thoughts.

The Truth We Sing

A couple of posts back I took a gibe at some of the songs we sing because, if we really took the lyrics seriously, I’m not sure all of us could sing them, or if we did, we could not sing them all the time. I really did not intend to suggest they were bad songs (many of them are quite good!), only to get us to think seriously about the lyrics we sing, and if we are going to sing the words to God and to each other, let us at least admit that what we are singing is a goal, or a statement of the way things ought to be, not the way we actually live.

On the other hand, and getting back to a phrase that is axiomatic with me (a statement of truth that needs no evidence or support), very often we sing far better theology than we teach. In this post I want to share some song lyrics that are not only biblical, but are also deeply meaningful – at least to me – and hopefully you can have a better picture of what I look for in a good hymn or spiritual song.

(Nerd alert – you will notice the majority of these songs are decades, if not centuries old. I like to stay up with the latest in worship hymnody!)

Perhaps my favorite illustration (although not my favorite over-all hymn) is Rock of Ages. A.M. Toplady just nailed it with this hymn. Every verse is chock-full of theological insight, but the first verse is worthy of an entire sermon:

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood, from Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure, cleanse me from its guilt and power.

There you have a theological statement that doctors of theology will spend pages trying to explain: the blood of Christ cleanses us both from the guilt of sin, but also protects us from the power of sin in the future. That, my friends, is pure gospel and a beautiful song as well.

One song that is certainly in my top ten favorites of all time, and maybe in the top five, is O Sacred Head. When you combine words originally composed by Bernard of Clairvaux with music composed by J.S. Bach, how can you go wrong? But, more to the point, consider these words in the second verse:

What language shall I borrow to thank Thee dearest friend,
For this Thy dying sorrow, Thy pity without end?
O make me Thine for ever; and should I fainting be,
Lord, let me never, never outlive my love to Thee.

Wow. Just wow. What a prayer. Lord, do not ever let me live so long that I lose my love for you. Now, THAT is a song that deserves a long period of silence so that the congregation can cogitate on those words!

Just to prove I am not a total dinosaur, there are a couple of the newer worship songs that are solid both in theology and in musical quality. The first is a special song to me, because when I hear it I can still hear the voices of two young ladies in Aztec, New Mexico, sing this song so clearly and beautifully. Once again, the second verse:

If words could fall like rain from these lips of mine,
And if I had a thousand years, Lord, I would still run out of time.
If you listen to my heart, every beat will say: ‘Thank you for the Life,
Thank you for the Truth, Thank you for the Way.’
So listen to our hearts, hear our spirits sing
A song of praise that flows from those You have redeemed.
We will use the words we know to tell You what an awesome God you are.
But words are not enough to tell You of our love, so listen to our hearts.

And, finally, a song that is clearly in my top five favorites of all time, and maybe all the way to number one. Very often I cannot even sing it because I start weeping when I think of the young students who have made this song so special to me. I so look forward to the day when these words will be reality:

We shall assemble on the mountain, we shall assemble at the throne.
With humble hearts into His presence, we bring an offering of song.
Glory and honor and dominion, unto the Lamb unto the King.
Oh hallelujah, hallelujah, We sing the song of the redeemed.
And at the end of the journey, we shall bow down with bended knee,
And with the angels up in heaven, we’ll sing the song of victory!
Glory and honor and dominion, unto the Lamb unto the King.
Oh hallelujah, hallelujah, We sing the song of the redeemed.

We sing so much better theology that we sometimes preach and teach. I am firmly convinced that those who sing congregationally (with none of those obnoxious “praise teams”) and those who sing acapella (Churches of Christ are one, but by no means the only, such groups) have a special gift that other religious groups do not have. We can actually hear the lyrics, and we can fully and completely sing to one another.

Let us never surrender those gifts!!

 

The Lies We Sing

I have often said, and firmly believe, that we as Christians sing a much more faithful and robust faith than we teach. In part, I think that is why singing (and congregational acapella singing at that) is so critical to our worship services. Without the rich history of some of our best songs, our theology would be utterly bereft of any significance. But there is another, much darker, side to our singing. We sing far, far too many lies.

I suppose this post could end up being thousands of entries long, but here are just a few of some of the lies I think we sing – I don’t have a song book in front of me, so these are just off the top of my head –

“All to Jesus I surrender, all to him I freely give . . .” Well, except for my checkbook, my political affiliation, my resentments, my anger, my racism, my hatred.

“It is well with my soul . . .” Well, maybe my soul, but not my IRA, my retirement, my house, my car, my kids, my marriage, my job, even my dog has issues.

“I stand in awe of you . . .” Never mind that the image of standing in awe is unbiblical – peoples in ancient cultures knelt or bowed or fell prostrate to show honor, respect and awe. The point is we don’t stand in awe of God. We have everything all figured out – scientifically, philosophically, sociologically, politically, militarily. It’s just that we are really, really, into that emotional high that standing up while we sing this song gives us.

“Jesus, let us come to know you . . .” Just don’t get to know me all that well, and seriously don’t make any uncomfortable demands on my life.

“Take my life and let it be, consecrated Lord to thee . . .” Wait, what?

“King of my life I crown thee now . . .” You’ve got to be kidding. God, you can be my co-pilot, but just sit over there and don’t you dare touch any of the controls.

“Just as I am, without one plea . . .” Well, I really dig the ‘just as I am’ part, but, God, regarding the request thing – do you have a minute, ’cause I have quite a few issues that you really need to deal with.

Sadly, I could go on. These are just a few of the songs that make me pause when I see the title or read a few of the lyrics. I’m not suggesting that we cannot sing these songs. It’s just that I have to be conscious that when I sing a song of praise or devotion, I am singing both to God and to my fellow Christians.

Am I singing the truth, or a lie? Obviously no man or woman is perfect, and we are not expected to live perfect lives before we come to worship. I don’t want to make too big of a mountain out of this – but still, it is troubling.

Do we really think about the meaning of the words as we sing them? Or do we just put our brain on autopilot and thoughtlessly mouth the words?

Let us ascend by climbing lower.

The Church Really Needs to Rediscover the Old Testament

I’m preaching a series of sermons on Christ and Culture. What has been the best source of pertinent material?

The Old Testament.

I kid you not. When it comes to speaking to the contemporary church about the dangers of lapsing into the modern malady of multiple-ideology malaise, the best biblical response is given in the first testament of faith, not the second.

Last week I preached on Deuteronomy 7, 8, and 9 – Moses’s warnings to the Israelites not to think too highly of their numbers, their seeming military strength, or their righteousness. If the contemporary church does not need to hear that sermon then I will eat my diplomas. This week I turn to a fascinating character study in the life of Jeroboam I, who would become the patron saint (demon?) of bad kings in the northern kingdom of Israel.

On the one hand, Jeroboam had everything going for him that you would want in a king. God had a prophet go and specifically give Jeroboam the detailed prophecy of what was going to occur in his near future. God specifically chose Jeroboam for his divinely inspired mission. He gave him a specific sign to accompany the verbal prophecy. God promised Jeroboam a perpetual kingship, just as he had promised David. In short – Jeroboam had it all, and then some.

And then Jeroboam gave it all away. He became fearful. He thought he would lose what God had promised him. So he set about to fix a problem that did not exist. He called his cabinet together to discuss the issue. The problem, they decided, all revolved around the commanded, and therefore necessary, worship in Jerusalem. Eradicate that problem, and you solve the potential problem of losing your kingdom. So, Jeroboam built two temples, one in Dan and one in Bethel, complete with priesthood and ritual “like the one in Judah,” but one of Jeroboam’s own creation.

Well, I’m not going to give away all of my sermon, but what does that story have to teach the church? Funny you should ask.

Today I see the church focused almost exclusively on a problem that does not exist – or I guess I should say only exists in the minds of a few academics that are so focused on picking lint out of their bellybuttons that they have lost sight of reality. The church is worried (fearful!) about losing its young members, about not being “relevant” (whatever in the world that word means) to its surrounding culture, about giving up its “place in the conversation” concerning contemporary issues.

Jesus promised that he be lifted up, he would draw all men unto him. Jesus promised that even the gates of hell would not be able to withstand the onslaught of the gospel as preached by the church. God promised, and then demonstrated, that through Jesus’s life healing and wholeness would come to the entire world. Pretty powerful promises, if you ask me. Kind of like the promises Ahijah gave to Jeroboam, although you could say that Jeroboam’s promises did not even come close to what we have been promised.

And yet we sit around and fret because a young generation demands more and more from the church to meet their needs, that the world views the gospel as irrelevant, that we are not given a chair at the great conversation table. And I cannot help but think that God must be asking his legions of angels, “When are these people going to get my point?”

Read the next paragraph carefully, because what I am going to say is carefully nuanced. I do not care if a generation (or, actually just a portion of a generation) bullies the church and threatens to leave if its demands are not met. I do not care if by “relevancy” the current philosophy demands that I surrender the fundamental nature of God and of human beings. I do not care whether we have a “place at the conversation” if the conversation is all about how irrelevant and meaningless the church is, and what can be done to eliminate it from public discourse altogether. What I do care about, and care passionately, is that the church remains true to her commission, that she lifts up the name and saving work of her Lord, and that she refuses to surrender her very nature all because of an irrational fear of what might happen.

What might happen is not really theoretical at all. All a person has to do is to see what has happened to the Anglican (Episcopal) and Presbyterian churches after they have capitulated to the bullying demands of postmodernism. The number of adherents in those churches has plummeted, even as they make fundamental change after fundamental change in order to staunch the bleeding. And, really, what is the point of belonging to a church that basically believes everything and acts identically to the way its surrounding culture believes and acts? Why belong to a church that has eliminated the concept of sin, and therefore can offer no concept of salvation? If supporting your local sports team offers the same (or even greater) sense of community, and a lot more excitement, why waste time on your day off going to a religious assembly that has basically lost faith in its own mission and importance?

Jeroboam tried to bathe his new temples and ritual in pious, even consecrated, language. “Behold your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.” (1 Kings 12:28, see Exodus 32:4!) God was not fooled. In one of the most explicit, and terrifying, rejections of the plans of man against his divine will to be found in the entire Bible, God told Jeroboam, “. . . but you have done evil above all who were before you and have gone and made for yourself other gods and metal images, provoking me to anger, and have cast me behind your back.” (1 Kings 14:9, emphasis mine)

You see, that is what I am afraid of. We can make other gods and create alternate rituals and build imposing edifices (real and philosophical), and we can attempt to bathe those gods and rituals and edifices in pious and even “Christian” language. But we will never fool God. I am personally terrified that in our efforts to save the church, all we are doing is casting God behind our backs.

Folks, that is a horrifying thought. And that is why I believe the church needs to rediscover the Old Testament.

Middle Isaiah and the Churches of Christ

This is the third installment in my series on middle Isaiah, so if you have not read the first two, I encourage you to do so. That will provide the necessary background for what I want to convey in this post.

One of the necessary, although frustrating, statements that needs to be made anytime an entire group of people is discussed is that in doing so the author must depend upon generalities. So, in this post I am going to be making some general observations about the Churches of Christ in the United States, and invariably someone is going to be able to say, “That is not my experience at all!” To which I will say, “Great! I am glad that you have not had the experiences that I have had, and that you can see things from an entirely different point of view.” But, I cannot see things from eleventy-billion different sets of eyes, so what you will read below is my observations based on years of study and personal experience. As with every automobile commercial ever made – your mileage may vary. If the shoe fits, wear it, if not, find one that does.

What I can say from my experience and study is that the Churches of Christ, as a whole, are not a liturgical group of people. That is to say that our services are largely extemporaneous (although sometimes highly routine). We do not follow the lectionary readings, we do not follow the “church calendar,” and we most certainly do not have a hierarchical view of the priesthood v. the laity. This very decided “low church” atmosphere is even reflected in our architecture and interior building designs. Most congregations are housed in simple wood frame buildings, or if necessary, other very simple structures that, if the name outside were hidden, could be confused with a mortuary or a nursing home. “Ostentatious” is NOT a word that could frequently be used to criticize any of our buildings. Likewise, the interior of our buildings are almost exclusively utilitarian. We have no majestic arched colonnades, no awe-inspiring auditoriums, no sparkly stained glass windows, no lofty pulpits and certainly no jaw dropping organs or choir lofts. Most buildings in the congregations where I have served or worshipped have simple floor plans, and the auditoriums are sparsely decorated, save for a simple table that provides a place for the Lord’s Supper emblems, and a simple (although sometimes massive) pulpit for the preacher to hide behind (just kidding about that one!).

So what does our decidedly non-liturgical form and functionality have to do with middle Isaiah – and the points of emphasis I have made in the last two posts? I’m glad you asked, even if you didn’t.

I have often said, and even now repeat, that one of the greatest failings of the Churches of Christ – particularly in the late 20th and early 21st centuries – is that we have forgotten who we are. We have no sense of history – of our own and certainly not of the Christian church. It seems like for many decades we have tried to prove that we are so unlike everyone else that we have lost sight of Him who we should be like.

In a short, pithy little sentence, – we have forgotten who God is, and in so doing, we have forgotten who we are supposed to be.

Enter in middle Isaiah. In the middle section of this magisterial prophecy, Isaiah proclaims the word of God to a people who have not only forgotten him, but who have actively rejected him and who are following gods that are not gods – the idols. While making a show of being good Yahwists, those who believe in and worship the true God, these syncretists had created a religion that by all appearances was devoted to Yahweh the true God, but in all reality was simply a veneer to cover their real worship of human imagination, and more to the point, of human strength. They had created God in their own image, and would have nothing to do with prophets who tried, with all their might, to get them to return to the Holy One of Israel.

I really have no objections to being non-liturgical, and there is much to be said for having simple, utilitarian buildings. However, there is an insidious danger that is attached to both of those characteristics that I do not think we have cared to think about. When you minimize the truly awesome experience of coming into the presence of a holy God (by making the worship merely extemporaneous and by minimizing the glory of the meeting structure) you inadvertently and I would say quite unintentionally minimize the God to whom you are offering your worship. There were good reasons why the liturgy developed – and why the churches of the middle ages became such magnificent edifices. The Christians of these ages realized it was simply too dangerous to come into the presence of God without some structure, some careful guidance, about how to do so. They also realized, just as with David and Solomon, that the place where God met with man was to be a magnificent dwelling place – not that God was restricted to that place or that he lived only there. But, I believe they rightly understood that if we were going to invite God to meet with us and to feast with us – might we not want to make the meeting place just a little more important than our own homes? I’m not arguing for the kind of ornateness that makes you afraid to enter lest you get dirt on the floor. But I am suggesting that if all we offer to God is some ramshackle little building, then maybe our view of the awesomeness of God is just, well, ramshackle.

Anyway, I think the teachings that are encapsulated in the middle chapters of Isaiah indict the majority of congregations of the Churches of Christ. I think we are too flippant when it comes to worship, and I think our “low” view of our meeting places communicates something that we do not intend, and would actually actively deny. In a word, I believe we are too humanistic in our approach to worship. We do not have, nor do I think we attempt to create, an Isaiah 6:1-9 kind of experience when we “enter his courts with thanksgiving.”

The natural outgrowth of this lack of “awe” in our worship is seen when we promote humanistic approaches to solving all of our problems (the parallel of Isaiah’s compatriots sending down to Egypt for deliverance from the Assyrian hordes). If our God is simply too small to demand our finest and our best, then why not put our faith in politicians and in the Supreme Court justices? They do demand our allegiance! They do demand that we respect their power. Notice how majestic the House and Senate Chambers are? Notice the pomp and circumstance when the President enters the room? Most male members of many congregations cannot even be bothered to put on a nice dress shirt these days. “Come as you are” has now deteriorated into, “who cares what you look like, just wear whatever ratty old clothes that are in the bottom of your closet.” Try wearing those clothes in a courtroom. I’ve heard of judges throwing people out of their courtrooms because of inappropriate dress.

How can we claim to worship a Holy God if we treat him with less respect than we are called to give to a magistrate judge?

You see, middle Isaiah (along with Amos, and Micah, to say the least) has much to say to the 21st century Churches of Christ. I’m afraid not much of it would be pleasant, either.

We have forgotten who God is. We have forgotten who are are called to be. And we have forgotten who we are.

May we all ascend by climbing lower.

No! The Church Does Not!

If you are even remotely connected to any religious media (Facebook, Twitter, books, magazines, etc.) you are bombarded with messages such as, “If the church is going to survive, it must . . .” or “If the church is going to keep (or attract) millennials, it must . . .” or “If the church is going to be seen as relevant, it must . . .” followed by some brilliant insight observed by some church growth guru. I’m sure I have even been guilty of using those words myself. If I have, (or I guess I should say, when I did) I was wrong. Mea culpa. I am now here to say, “No.” The church does not have to do (a) or (b) or (c). In fact, all the talk about what the church is going to have to “do” is part of the problem. Understanding why this is such a critical issue takes some serious thinking, so let me explain my position.

First, the church was not created by Jesus to be some crutch, some plaything for those who comprise its membership. The church IS Christ on this earth. The church is his body, as Paul makes explicitly clear – 1 Corinthians 12:27; Ephesians 1:23, 5:30; Colossians 1:18, 2:19 to name a few passages. Therefore, and this is the nub of the issue, to say that the church “must” do something or the other in order to keep or to attract any sub-group of people is to say that JESUS must do that something or the other.

Are you really willing to tell Jesus what he has to do? Does Jesus really have to bend to every whim and fancy of every coming generation? Is there a set of rules for the builder generation, the boomer generation, the “X” generation and now the millennial generation? Or, is there one body, the church, to which every generation must submit its personal preferences and demands for the good of the whole?

If there is any one single “must” that the church is bound to obey, it is that the church must be the body of Christ. That’s it – there is no other “must.” We learn about that body by studying the gospels, and we learn about how the church either successfully, or unsuccessfully, fulfilled that commission by studying the books of Acts-Revelation.

The body of Christ obeys what the head of the body commands it to obey. The body of Christ is the physical extension of the exalted and reigning Lord now ascended to the heavens. The body of Christ does not get to vote, does not get to add to or subtract from, the commands that its owner and head gave to it.

It strikes me as ignorance bordering on absurdity for someone not even out of his third decade of life to lecture the church – which has existed for almost 2,000 years – about what it “must” do to survive. But, that is just part and parcel of our narcissistic world. Everything revolves around “me,” so obviously the church must revolve around my wants, my wishes, my demands, my understanding of what “ought” to be. When the church has succumbed to that siren song it has floundered. When the church has resisted that temptation it has flourished. The church is the body of Christ on the earth – and the only imperative that body has is to remain faithful to its head – Jesus the Messiah.

There is a word for what I am describing – it is “discipleship.” It is described beautifully in those aforementioned gospels, and it is taught in the aforementioned subsequent books of the New Testament. There is another book that talks about this topic, and interestingly enough, it has that simple title, Discipleship*. When it was published it stood the prevailing cultural church on its head. If it was read, I mean really read, today it would have the same result. I believe its author would be aghast at how so many people claim to follow its principles when those very same people are so busy telling the church what it must do.

If, and more likely when, I have been guilty of that sin I repent. I never want to be guilty of telling Jesus what HE has to do in order to attract some selfish little pedant to attend some church assembly. Members of the church of Christ are disciples of Christ, and to that end we either transform our will to become what is the will of Christ, or we cease to be members of the body of Christ (ref. Revelation 1-3).

The church is the body of Christ – let us never lose sight of that reality!

*Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Discipleship (also published as The Cost of Discipleship).