The Power of Unity (02/07/25-02/08/25)

In outlining this epistle, I marked off these verses under the head, “Faith a Sign.”  But I think, with further reflection, that perhaps it is better considered as, “Unity a Sign.”  Unity is the binding agent, you might say, both in these verses and in the Church.  As Jesus Himself proclaimed, though speaking more directly of the powers of darkness, “A house divided against itself shall not stand” (Mt 12:25).  I say, he was speaking more directly of that opposing force, but He was speaking against those who accounted Him as in league with those powers.  No, He observes, were that so, then all I am doing would be in opposition to my own camp and king.  It could not stand, but must lead to the downfall of that king.  So, how could you suppose he condones or commands My actions?

I think it fitting, then, that we should contemplate those words as they apply to our own condition, our own life in the Church.  And as we do so, I believe we follow in the footsteps of the Apostles, who showed great care and concern for any divisive spirit arising in the church.  Think how firmly Paul counters even that divisiveness of competitive comparison, as he writes to Corinth.  Or, simply go to the end of this letter, with the matter of Euodia and Syntyche (Php 4:2-3).  Unity is critical.  Indeed, I don’t think we shall find Calvin wrong when he observes that unity of spirit and soul, such as is encouraged here in these verses, is in fact the strength of the Church.  Nothing more excites our opposition than to see us infighting and squabbling amongst ourselves.  We understand that well enough of the civil arena, or at least we used to recognize this.  We had, for long years, the policy that ‘politics ends at the shore.’  We don’t take our family squabbles overseas to parade before the nations.  They see enough of it as it is, but in that setting we ought to present a prevailing unity.  So, too, in the Church.  We have our debates and disagreements.  But for the most part, historically speaking, these have been matters of fine points, or difficult doctrines; reason enough, perhaps to separate into different communities, but not to decry one another as heretics.  There’s a line, to be sure, that we do not allow to be crossed.  There are limits to unity, points beyond which to claim unity would be indeed to deny the Gospel, and this, we dare not do.  But within those bounds, such debates as we may have ought not to be the witness we bear to those outside the current boundaries of Christ’s kingdom.

Unity is urged, and strongly so.  “Conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the Gospel.”  Show yourselves to be true citizens of the kingdom of our Lord.  That’s what is being said here.  Don’t just talk a good game.  Live it!  Just consider your standing.  It ought to be a source of constant wonder to you.  “You are no longer strangers and aliens, but fellow citizens with the saints.  You are of God’s household!” (Eph 2:19).  That’s amazing!  It’s astounding on so many levels.  Now, we may have lost somewhat the force of this, given that we have lived our lives in what is, or was, a largely Christian culture.  This was not the case for the early church.  These Philippians, for example, were drawn primarily from what the Jews would account pagan stock.  They came with the mythologies of Greece and Rome.  They came with the influences of mysticism from the East.  They no doubt had a touch of animism in there, as well.  Add that, to the degree they had interaction with the Jews, they were given to know their rejection.  “Not one of us.”  No, nor could you ever be, even if you accepted circumcision, and adhered with utmost attention to every least tenet of Mosaic law and Pharisaic tradition, still, you would never be a true Jew.  Never would you be permitted past the Court of the Gentiles.  And here comes the Gospel, with this most incredible news.  No, folks!  You’re family now, fellow citizens of equal standing, sons of God in full.  Amazing!

But this was not some merit badge to put on a sash, to be pulled out and worn only on certain special occasions.  Our citizenship comes with certain responsibility.  The Philippians would be particularly attuned to this reality, and Paul’s choice of wording here is intended to produce harmonic vibrations upon that awareness.  You are citizens of heaven.  Act like it.  Just like you so proudly bear yourselves as free citizens of Rome, and are careful to obey its laws, so, too, bear yourselves as free and proud citizens of heaven.  Be as careful of those laws, for you have sworn solemn covenant with the Lord.

I think of that imagery from the British navy back during the Napoleonic Wars.  You have taken the king’s coin.  In doing so, you have made solemn covenant to set your life at his command.  There is something of that in having accepted this gift of faith, of salvation.  You have sworn allegiance, professed your fealty to the Lord of heaven.  Your life is His to command, and He has commanded.  So, take His law as your guide.  Live as you claim to believe, and do so faithfully, consistently.  To do so must produce in us a unity.

First comes the matter of personal unity.  It’s too easy to have mental assent to the truth of the Gospel without it bearing at all on our manner of living.  This is the way of the hypocrite.  It must not be the way of the believer.  What has convinced the mind must also control the heart.  Knowledge must become wisdom, understanding become will.  We get a touch of that here, with the mention of one spirit and one soul, which is really what the passage, though you have to hunt to find a translation that actually presents it as such.  Spirit, of course, speaks to those higher faculties that make us distinctly human, and thus lends itself to ideas of reason, whereas soul gets down to the more basic stuff of being alive, the feelings, the choices of action, which may or may not consult with the reasoning mind.  We all know those who are driven more by emotion than thought, and if we’re honest, much more of our own behavior falls into that category than we might care to confess.  For one, there are those occasions when time is not granted for thought.  But it’s more than just those times.  We have our habitual responses, the choices we make without giving it a thought.

Here is our call to be such as have heart and mind united.  It may be that we still find ourselves often making choices without much if any thought, but it is to be hoped that those more instantaneous responses have been trained by long exercise of faith, such that our innate response is as it would have been with more concerted effort of thinking prior.  That is to say, we seek to develop a degree of spiritual muscle memory, such that our soul knows the right choice inherently.  This is the goal.  This is the reason we practice, and the reason God so often sets before us those trials that train us as to our response.  It’s something I’ve discussed often enough in these studies of late, but we ought not to be finding it needful still to agonize over every little decision.  I’m not sure that was ever really called for, but to continue in that mode as a supposedly mature Christian really calls that maturity into question.  For most of what you face day to day, you really ought to be not only equipped to take the right course, but well-practiced in doing so.

We have that passage, “To one who knows the right thing to do, and does not do it, to him it is sin” (Jas 4:17).  Might I suggest that the one who knows, and yet must pause for long, agonizing prayer before he will choose to do so, it might very well be a sin as well?  If you know, do.  That’s pretty simple.  Nowhere do we find, if you know, check in and make sure it’s still the right course.  What?  Does God change moment to moment, that we must question whether what was right yesterday remains right today?  I think not!  No, His word tells us that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  It’s part of what makes Him God.  He was perfect at the outset – before the outset, for He was before the outset.  He was perfect in knowledge, perfect in planning, perfect in execution.  There is no need for change, therefore there can be none.

Enough on that.  To align heart and mind, soul and spirit, requires work on our part.  It also requires work on His part, because our powers are simply not up to the task, not when the spirit is aware of our citizenship in heaven.  We’ve had too many years of training in earthly living to take so readily to heavenly living.  Like anything new that we undertake to learn and to master, we must work at it.  And this is so new, so beyond what we’ve known before, that the effort will be that much greater; indeed, enough to occupy us so long as life and breath remain.  And all this is but the first layer of unity.  It’s still just the individual struggle toward completeness in Christ.  But God does not leave us to struggle on alone.  He calls us into community, in accord with that perfect plan of His, which He likewise never changed.  As Pastor is so fond of saying, the church is God’s Plan A, and there is no Plan B.  Why should there be?  His plan is perfect as He is perfect.  It may not look that way to us who are in the midst of it, but our perceptions don’t change reality.

Faith, real faith, leads to a meeting of heart and mind, a congruity of spirit and soul, with the spirit well along in taking charge of matters, and the soul subjected.  It’s not perfect, but progress is being made, and after all, we have the Holy Spirit backing us in our efforts.  Honestly, we can’t lose.  I’m not sure we can even speed or slow the process, but I suppose we do.  Okay, so as that inward unity seeks to form and to grow, we come into the community of the Church, and now, we are among a people who, like us, are seeking to form and to grow.  Like us, they are struggling to set aside old ways in favor of new.  Like us, the muscle memory of spiritual life has not yet fully formed.  They may be weak in areas that differ from our own challenges.  On the other hand, they may have had more success than us in other areas.  And so, we find we have much to learn from each other, much to offer each other.  This is by design.  But it will often prove to be the case that our differences, rather than encouraging us to learn one from the other, lead us to compete, to argue as to whose way is better, or what have you.  Some of this, to be sure, comes down to how we understand this or that doctrine of faith.  And yes, some of those doctrines are hard, perhaps impossible for our creaturely minds to pin down with absolute assurance.  And yet, we each of us feel absolutely assured of our convictions.  So we should!  If we’ve actually been seeking to know God, to understand His Scriptures and His Person, led by the Spirit as best we can, then we ought to be convinced of the truth and full accuracy of what we believe.  But then, if we believe the Truth, we must allow that our present understanding may well be flawed, inadequate, and in need of correction.  That comes hard, particularly when we’ve put so much effort into being rightly informed as to our faith.  Yet, if we cannot receive correction where it is truly needed, we have stunted our growth.  And if we cannot be loving in our efforts to help our brothers and sisters grow in their own faith and understanding, well!  We may be in need of greater growth ourselves.  There’s some forest clearing needs to happen, that His light may penetrate more fully.

Looking, then, at the call of this passage, we find the unity that is sought, this oneness of spirit and soul, is not just some inward state to be sought in order that we might be at peace within ourselves, comfortable in our own skin.  This is a communal call.  You and I together, being of one mind as to the Gospel and as to God; you and I together, being of one will in pursuing the godly life that this Gospel has both enabled and called us to pursue.  Calvin observes, in this regard, that it is precisely this unity of spirit and soul which is the strength of the Church.  And in saying so, he is but reflecting what Paul says here.  This unity by which we together stand firm is a chief evidence, a fundamental sign.  To those who oppose us, whether we consider the human opposition, or those powers of darkness arrayed against us, this is clear indication of their failure.

One or the other of the commentaries observed the rather military nature of the imagery Paul uses here, which would make perfect sense to use, given he writes to Philippi, with its status as a military outpost of sorts.  Stand firm!  You don’t do this alone.  Try, and you will simply be overrun by the forces of the enemy.  But stand firm together?  That’s a different story.  A phalanx in position is a much harder target.  The square of British defense was a much stronger matter than the thin red line of attack.  Cavalry could not overcome it.  But it required the discipline of standing your ground together.  It required being able to depend on the one to your left and to your right to stand with you and not break.  Put it back in the Christian context, and the point is clear.  We need each other, need to be able to depend upon one another to stand strong.

The same battle imagery is present in the call to strive together.  Now we’re on the offense, not the defense.  Go back to that thin red line of British offense.  It’s rather amazing, honestly, to consider that these thin ranks were able not just to withstand, but to defeat the deep columns of French soldiers who sought march right over them.  But they, for all the thinness of their line, were as a well-oiled machine, each doing his part like pistons in the engine block.  You fire, I fire as you reload, I reload as you fire.  And all, practiced to a fine point, at a speed unmatched by the army they faced; stunning in its efficacy, and all depending on this striving together, working as one.

Okay, so come to the Church.  Like it or not, feel it or not, we are at war.  We have been at war so long as there has been a Church, and we will be so long as the Church remains, which is to say, until the need for war has ceased entirely and the victory been won absolutely.  But in this war, we must stand firm together.  We must take the battle to the enemy together.  We must, in all things, stand side by side.  And we must, of course, remain clear that our battle is not with flesh and blood.  It’s not those unbelievers outside, not even the most antagonistic atheist or the darkest devil worshiper, who compose the enemy.  They are at best pawns, cannon-fodder, if you prefer.  It’s the powers of darkness, rulers in spiritual realms, who are the true enemy, and so, our weapons are not those of physical combat, nor of physical prowess, but of spiritual power under spiritual direction.  This is battle with the flesh subdued, the soul subjected, and any personal agenda cast aside to grant full allegiance to the commanding orders of our Lord and King, relayed to us through the clarion call of the Spirit.

The battle is for holiness, and holiness of life requires a team effort.  As I said, the one seeking to go it alone will be run down in short order, quite thoroughly defeated.  So we have the Church, the Body of which Christ is the head, and we are, in our various capacities, the limbs and organs.  We well understand from our own physical body that its proper functioning requires harmony amongst its several limbs and organs.  We see around us, if not in ourselves, what comes of it when something is off.  If the mind is set on proceeding in such and such a direction, but the legs refuse their orders, it’s no good.  At best we stumble, or perhaps find ourselves immobilized.  If we find it necessary to run, but the heart is simply not up to pumping that much blood, then we’re not going to get very far, are we?  Whatever it may be we thought to escape will be upon us, and we, panting for breath, unable to toss up even a token resistance.  But let there be a team?  Where we have weakened, we may find others carry us.  We may simply find a certain onrush of adrenaline stirred up by their strength next to us.  I’m sorry.  I’m blending metaphors here, I think.  And probably running long.  Let me try to come back.

Holiness of life is a team effort, and we need both to rely on our teammates and be aware of their own situations.  We need to care about and care for one another.  Oh look.  We’re back at koinonia, a joint sharing, a depth of sharing.  How can we care if we don’t even know one another, beyond a passing acquaintance?  If I don’t know what’s going on in your life, in what way am I going to be able to come alongside to help?  I might do so, as it were, accidentally, some aside of mine managing to do you some good.  But it needs more than that.  I need more than that.  As I have been seeking to express, this mutual need of one another is by design.  It’s God’s plan.  It’s the reason He established a Church, not an isolation tank.  We need one another.  We have felt that, I suspect, far longer than we have been part of any church.  We feel it as family, as siblings.  We feel it as individuals out in the cold world, seeking to find a friend or two, perhaps somebody to share our life with.  And we feel it even more as we enter into this call to holiness.  So much is arrayed against us, so many influences seek to dissuade us from our course, to draw us back to former ways.  My, but how we need each other now!  We feel it more than ever.  And we hear it from our Lord, our General, as well.  We either strive together, or we fail apart.  A house divided cannot stand.

There is that old line by John Donne, “No man is an island.”  Granted, I know it more from Jefferson Airplane, with their cute follow-on, “He’s a peninsula.”  But there’s something to it, isn’t there?  Although Mr. Donne, none too surprisingly, had the clearer picture.  “Each is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.”  I see that he was a cleric in the church, but I also see a nascent humanism here.  “Each man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind.”  Yet, I suppose it need not be humanism in view.  Awareness of the value of the soul could lead to similar perspective.  Here is another bearer of God’s image departed.  Here is another life swallowed up in death, and yes, at least for the present, I am diminished.  I am less for the loss.  But, bring in the Christian perspective, and we are not like those who have no hope.  We have assurance, if it but be that this one who has died is known to our Lord, that we shall in due course know their fellowship once more, and this time, forever.

But we are too much in the present, as we must be.  And so, we have need of one another.  And so, we are called to stand together, to strive together, to seek together that we all may live a life of unity.  And all of this has only brought us to the second layer – the layer of life within the Church.  It doesn’t stop there.  It proceeds to a third layer, to being unified in how we live amongst the faithful and how we live amongst the unbelieving.  This call to walk worthy is all-encompassing.  Some of the older translations have this as, “Let your conversation be worthy,” and that leads to certain misconceptions that this is somehow all about how we talk.  Oh, we should be forcing every conversation towards the gospel.  Indeed, the Wednesday night gatherings at our church have been pursuing that very line of thought.  Interesting.  Yet I fear that this could as readily serve to push away those we might reach as to reach them.  Before we can have that conversation, it seems to me, we have to earn, as it were, the right to speak into their lives.  We need to have established some precedent, I would suggest a precedent of habitual example, that would encourage them to a curiosity and a desire to be of like mind and practice.

That’s really the call here.  It’s not just talk.  It’s life.  Let your entire manner of life, at church, at home, at work, in the marketplace, be such as exhibits your citizenship, as demonstrates that you are in fact a son of heaven.  It’s not just how you speak.  It’s how you deal with others.  It’s what priorities you demonstrate by how you live.  We don’t want to be such as acknowledge Christ by our words but deny Him by our actions.  And if you don’t think that requires concerted effort!  It does.  We can destroy years of work by one careless action, especially if we fail to acknowledge the error.  Even when we try to apply good Christian practice to our mistakes, and undertake to make amends, to acknowledge our failures and seek to make things right, we may find ourselves rebuffed, rejected.  The hurt may be too deep.  Or perhaps, it’s just been the excuse the flesh was waiting for, to be able to dismiss your faith as inconsequential.

Here, too, we have need of one another, perhaps even more so than in the area of personal development.  It’s hard to walk this walk and to do so consistently.  It’s hard to resist the fleshly response, to reject the myriad influences of culture that seek to inform our views and train our reactions.  There is so much that encourages a, “me, me, me” mindset, that calls us to exert all our energies looking out for number one.  And here is Jesus saying, “Be servant to all” (Mk 9:35).  Here is Paul, Jesus’ emissary, saying, “Regard one another as more important than yourself” (Php 2:3).  But it don’t come easy, does it?   You know it doesn’t.  If it did, there would be no cause for these words of encouragement, no need to draw up together to stand as one.  But here we are.

Here is our call.  Hear it.  “Conduct yourselves as worthy citizens of heaven, as representatives of the Gospel.”  As with the Philippians, we can be overly proud of our citizenship.  I don’t know if it’s something particular to us Americans.  I don’t think so.  I’ve known some proud Dutch in the past, and the pride of France is notorious, though it’s unclear to me how much that still holds today.  Africans are no different.  Folks from the DRC may well consider themselves rather more developed than their neighbors.  I suppose at some level it’s just natural to have stronger regard for one’s own nation and culture than for others, whether there’s sound basis for that regard or not.  But whatever your earthly allegiances, the message is this:  You, Christian, have a much higher allegiance.  Your true citizenship is in heaven, your true allegiance is to heaven’s King.  You walk this life as an emissary, an ambassador, a representative in foreign lands.  You may live here, but you are no longer from here.  Let your life demonstrate your true home.  Let your words be such as give evidence of your foreign origins.  Let your customs demonstrate the customs of home.  And let all be done in such a way as makes evident the clear superiority of your homeland.  This is not a matter of boasting, or of denigrating what is around you.  It’s living who you are, becoming who you are, and standing firm in who you are.  This is our call on the personal level.  This is our call on the communal level.  This is our call, I dare say, on the inter-denominational level.  In every aspect of life, here is your prime directive:  Represent.  Represent in the power of unity.

The Gift of Unity (02/09/25)

Thus far, we have looked at the powerful testimony of lived unity, and considered the necessity of purposeful pursuit of such unity.  But in that pursuit, it is needful to remember that like faith, even this unity is a gift of God.  Indeed, as Clarke points out, we can only be of one spirit when we submit to the influence of the Holy Spirit.  Put another way, apart from the power of God, ours by the work of the indwelling Spirit of God, this unity of spirit and soul, this unity of fellowship, quite simply won’t happen.  Even with His presence among us, the habits of a lifetime will tend to poke through now and again.  The worldview from which we were called when we became part of this heavenly citizenry doesn’t simply bow out.  It takes time, and it takes work.  It takes being aware of those changes that we need to pursue in ourselves, to encourage in one another.  It takes a bit of practice to be encouragers of change rather than dictators demanding change.

It takes, in short, a body of believers who, ‘walk in the energy of the Holy Spirit,’ a people surrendered to Jesus our Lord.  And this, on both the individual level and the community level.  Here is a subject for our prayers.  It is not a thing to be taken for granted, nor an occasion to simply accept that what is shall be.  That’s how situations deteriorate, and when they do, the deterioration can be rapid.  Let it proceed too far without undertaking to correct matters, and deterioration will soon have become destruction.  The message to the churches in Galatia comes to mind.  “If you bite and devour one another, take care lest you be consumed by one another.  But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not carry out the desire of the flesh” (Gal 5:15-16).  We could continue in that passage, but the point is made, and there’s plenty left to consider in our own passage.  Work at this unity.  Work at it in yourself, which will tend already to see those desires of the flesh rooted out, or at the very least, kept in their place.  Work at it in your fellowship with one another.  “Blessed are the peacemakers” (Mt 5:9).  Seek, then, to be such a one as promotes the peace of God; not peace at all costs, but peace where it lies within your power and prerogative to promote peace (Ro 12:18).  The example of the Apostles themselves sets the tone for this.  To those who would rend and tear the Church?  The stern defense of the shepherd.  To those who believe other gods in the wider community?  Peaceable, loving presentation of the Truth.  To those sheep who err within the church?  Such correction as is needful, but ever with the heart of God, ever with the desire for restoration, ever with the recognition that, there but for the grace of God go I.

And through it all, endure.  Whatever trials come your way, endure.  Whether it’s persecution from without or factiousness from within, endure.  Endure not with resentful resignation, as weathering a fate unavoidable.  Endure with grace and good spirit, knowing that even the endurance of the cross, should it come to that, is a gift of God.  Thanks to Calvin for this thought, severe though it may feel.  For, as he observes, all God’s gifts are good to us.  That is His promise and assurance.  We hear it from James, the brother of our Lord Jesus.  “Every good thing bestowed, every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights” (Jas 1:17).  Don’t mistake the meaning.  He’s not differentiating between good and perfect gifts, and bad or imperfect ones.  We might say that every gift, being from above, is good and perfect, for every gift comes to us by our good and perfect Father.  And of Him, we know that He causes all things to work together for good to those who love God and are called according to His purpose (Ro 8:28).  How we need to establish in our thinking that it’s not conditioned on our diligent obedience, though diligent obedience is certainly called for as His due.  No, it’s conditioned on His call, for whom He calls, He predestined to conformity, justified and glorified, as that passage continues (Ro 8:29-30).  Whom He called will love Him.  How could they not?

So, where are we?  We are here, in full possession of this most glorious gift of our loving Father.  We are equipped.  We are equipped for such unity of spirit and soul as will enable us to walk before an unbelieving world in integrity, living in accord with our beliefs, whatever the world may think of that.  We are equipped to unite one with another, in spite of our varied backgrounds, in spite of our varied stages of growth, not competing but cooperating, not tearing down, but building up.  For, like the Apostles before us, we have this authority, this true knowledge of God and this inward testimony of the Spirit, for building up and not for tearing down (2Co 13:10b).  Let us, then, be looking for those opportunities to lift one another, to aid in the home improvements, that the edifice of the Church may indeed be to God’s glory, as His sons walk after His good and perfect example.  Let us be such as ‘walk in the energy of the Holy Spirit,’ as Ironside has put it.  And let that energy be evident to all.

Lord, even as I write that, I think of those brothers who, for whatever reason, get to me on occasion.  Too readily do I allow irritation to arise, and seeing it rising, choose flight over actually addressing my own fleshly failure.  Show me, Lord, how to build up both my own wholeness, and then also the unity of the body which is Your desire, rather than to avoid, letting these irritants become a poison.  I am Your son, after all, a child of Your household, a citizen of Your kingdom, and these, as far as I am given to know, are likewise sons and citizens.  They deserve love and acceptance from me, for I am quite sure my own company is similarly irritating to various others, and would I not desire acceptance nonetheless?  Grant me, then, the grace to bend, to befriend, to encourage what is good in my brother, and to offer such gentle advice as may be mine to give, that they may grow in their faith as I grow in mine.  Thy will be done.

The Limits of Unity (02/09/25-02/10/25)

Now, I have hinted somewhat at the limits of unity already.  Certainly, where we cannot agree on core doctrines of the faith, unity is not to be pursued.  Here are wolves come in sheep’s clothes, and they must be repelled, lest the sheep accept them as legitimate members of the flock.  But on other matters?  Well, as I have observed elsewhere, sometimes the greater unity of the Church is best preserved by coalescing into local bodies of more similar perspectives.  Denominations, done right, need not be evidence of disunity, but may in fact serve to preserve that greater unity, allowing us to abide with those of like mind as to these secondary issues, and yet to come together as one as regards the kingdom of God and His righteousness.  So, then, there may be occasion to depart a particular congregation, not because they are ungodly heretics, but simply because our views differ too strongly on some of these secondary issues.  One can depart a body on good terms, fully convinced and expressive of the love of Christ for that body, and fully acknowledged as a brother in good standing by them in turn, even as we undertake to be joined to a different body.  We can work together.  We can even continue fellowship one with another, should we so desire.  I confess that in my own experience that proved a thing I would not do, but that’s more down to my choice, to allowing the inevitable wounds of separation to heal.  But those with whom I was close in that body remain close to my heart and my thoughts, even if they are not close in contact.

There is another boundary that must define our unity.  Our unity must not become a dependency.  While we can and should depend on one another, our faith ought not depend upon any man, but only on Christ Jesus.  You see Paul showing some concern for this in that he seeks to maintain a potential distance between himself and the church to which he writes.  As much as he has just expressed certainty as to his release, and that, for their benefit, yet he keeps his presence with them optional, at a distance.  Maybe I come see you, maybe I must go elsewhere.  But whichever turns out to be the case, this must not alter your faithfulness, as it does not alter your citizenship.  You are of God’s kingdom, His children, and this remains so whether the founder of the church remains or not, whether the pastor by whose ministry you came to hear and believe the Gospel remains or not.

In our day, there are many things that might lead to a departure from any given church, whether by a member or by a pastor.  We are a far more mobile society than once we were, and so, for families to find it necessary to depart as their jobs, or other circumstances, make it necessary to relocate.  And this is certainly the most benign of reasons for such a separation.  Needs must.  It may well be that as we grow in understanding, we find ourselves having particular views as to doctrinal matters that render continuance in the same body uncomfortable, even, as I have been observing, causing an unwanted degree of disunity.  Look, when your beliefs are being shouted down as heresy from the pulpit, however much you may appreciate the pastor, and however great his love for you, it’s going to become impossible, at some point, to continue as one body.  It need not be that one decries the other as apostate, but it is a case where distance may improve the unity.  I will stress may.  It is not a given.  But then, too, ministers may be called away to other fields, and if indeed it is the Lord’s calling that they depart, surely we must send them off with our blessing.

I have known those who felt that no pastor should remain beyond a handful of years, lest the church grow too attached to his ministry, and while I can certainly understand the concern, I’m not sure I find the baked in assumption appropriate.  There is a reason we speak of them as settled pastors, as opposed to itinerants, or interim pastors.  It takes time, after all, for relationships to deepen, more than a handful of years will permit beyond, perhaps, the merest handful of individuals.  But the shepherd is called to know his flock, is he not?  The larger the flock, the more difficult that task, and I might suggest that here in New England, or like regions, it becomes harder still, as we are not as inclined as some to instant welcome and reception.  It takes time.  It takes consistency.  It takes growing sufficiently comfortable one with another that trust can take root.  And to know there is a built-in expiration date will not help that process at all.

Still, the warning is there.  Matthew Henry writes that, “Our religion must not be bound up in the hands of our ministers,” for whatever may be the case with them, Christ is always with us.  We dare not allow the church to devolve into a cult of personality, its power and persistence no stronger than the man at the helm.  This is ever a danger, and always has been.  Let the church come to be defined by her pastor, and the church is become but a house of straw.  One stiff wind will blow it away.  We see it with some of these mega-church movements.  It’s not about Jesus anymore.  It’s about the star of the show.  Let that star be removed, and what becomes of the church?  Is it guaranteed to fail?  No, I suppose not.  But the likelihood is great.  Even when the leader is a true man of God, does this not turn out to be the case?  Would we consider that Billy Graham ministries is, as but one example, as powerful a thing as it was?  Or, to take one dear to my heart, Ligonier Ministries, is it the same careful resource for sound doctrine that it was with R.C. alive and at the helm?  It’s not clear to me at this juncture.  I suppose time will tell.

But for the local body, when the pastor has too much become the object of faith and attachment in the church, it is devastating when that pastor leaves, whether due to some fall into sin, or simply due to being called to be elsewhere, or, as may be the case in certain church polities, because some majority of individuals has seen fit to terminate his tenure.  I think, for example, of that church in Northampton that witnessed the work God was doing through the ministering of Jonathan Edwards, and yet came to desire that he might find another place to preach, and so, his time with them was brought to an end, and it was not, by any stretch, the most amicable of endings.  And what of that church since?  I honestly don’t know, but the state of Northampton today would suggest it did not long remain the beachfront for the gospel that it once was.

Take it closer to home.  A pastor falls, and the church has known no other at its helm.  Indeed, his guidance of the church to that point has been rather absolute.  Oh, there’s a board of elders, but they have no real power.  There are those who are so attached to this one’s leadership and pastoring that they simply cannot imagine departing, however grievous the failure, however unrepentant the minister.  Where he leads, they will follow.  And the issue does not become apparent to them, that no, he’s not the one you were called to follow, but Christ.  And where those paths diverge, you must make a choice.

Or, take another case.  The pastor has long served the church, and served well.  The church is, by all accounts, thriving and growing, and enjoys a certain renown in the region.  Its ministries attract folks from near and far to come and take part, even if they are not part of the body itself.  And that pastor falls.  What of the church?  To what degree has it been so attached to him as to become detached from its head?  Even where attachments have been rightfully maintained, the wounds run deep.  Many depart because they simply cannot handle that their minister proved human after all.  Many more remain who, however many other pastors have come and gone, cannot stop reliving the glory days in their memories.  Perhaps we’re all like that in some degree.  And perhaps, in some degree, that is appropriate.  But only in some degree.  Beyond that, it becomes insufferable to others, and quite probably damaging to self.  It certainly doesn’t do the ministry any great benefit to be held up to such constant comparison.  This is not that minister, and no, this is no longer that ministry.  What of it?  If the Head of the Church has set new priorities for this body, begun to work in new areas of growth, is it well that the body should insist on remaining on its former course?  I think not.

Perhaps here is a corrective for us.  It comes to me by way of the JFB, but apparently has its source in Bengel, who writes, “It is better, always, without evasion, to perform present duties under present circumstances.”  What course otherwise?  I could quote Jethro Tull, I suppose.  “They’ll keep living in the past.”  Many do.  Many are too distraught at the change, cannot break free of what was to become fully engaged in what is.  Does that mean we shift along with every least wind of doctrinal change?  Clearly not.  Scripture forbids it.  But we’re not talking doctrinal shift, here.  We’re talking shifts in emphasis, different foci as to the programs and priorities of the church.  The question is not whether we are still committed to the truth.  If that’s the question, then by all means, get it settled, and adjust course as necessary.  But if it’s simply that certain programs have been set aside in preference for others?  However wonderful those programs may have been, Bengel’s point would seem to hold.  What is my duty in this present focus?  What would God have me do as part of this?  What can I contribute to the work of the kingdom as it is proceeding here, now, in this place?  What fruit may I produce, or bring to maturity, by my contributions?   Over all:  How can I be part of what God is doing?  And if you cannot find any answer then, again, perhaps it’s time to move on, in the interest of preserving unity.  But if you must move on, be sure that you are doing so in the grace of God, and not as licking your wounds, or seeking to show your superiority.

Let me turn to one last boundary to be observed.  I’ll return to Mr. Henry for the point.  “Many hypocrites have suffered for their religion.”  Don’t suppose that suffering alone proves validity.  This isn’t some society of masochists seeking after pain as pleasure, or pain as proof.  Yes, we do live as those well aware that trials not only may come, but most certainly will come.  This does not require that we go about seeking such trials.  If they will come, then seeking them out is hardly needful.  There will be plentiful opportunity, to be sure.  And, as God’s grace assures us that He will not permit us to be tried beyond our ability, we may be assured that when they come, it will be as training, or as evidence of training already completed.  Let us say that trials come as evidence of God’s trust in our growth.   And why wouldn’t He trust our growth, when He Himself is the author of it.  But we, with our limited scope, may not have noticed what He has achieved.  It is well, then, that these opportunities come, that we may see what He has done.

But come back to Mr. Henry’s point.  Suffering is not itself evidence of purity of faith.  As he observes, plenty of hypocrites suffer, and suffer for their beliefs.  Yet, that suffering has not made them any less hypocritical.  It has not rendered their practice any more aligned with true religion, even if it somehow left them true to their beliefs.  Religion is not shown valid by belief any more than it is by suffering.  Religion is shown valid in that it rests on God’s revelation of Himself, His declarations as to what constitutes true holiness, and the way in which those truths have clearly come to define the character, word, and deed of the one who claims to believe.  That evidence may come in suffering.  It may come in joy.  I will say this.  When it comes by way of suffering, the great evidence of a true faith in God, it seems to me, shows in that the believer retains his or her joy even in the face of suffering, even in the face of unrelenting suffering.  For we know whom we have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep that which I’ve committed unto Him against that day.  So reads the hymn from long ago, and the truth of it has not changed.  There is much we don’t know, and wise the man who acknowledges this simple fact.  But we know Whom we have believed.  He is able.  Indeed, so able, that none is able to snatch us from His hands.

Glory to God!  Praise to the One Who holds us, Who guards us, Who grows us, and grants us to see just how much in fact we have grown.  Oh, to see that day when You have come and the work in us is done.  Oh, to know the full flower of faith, and its full fruition in Your presence.  Lord, let it be that we, in the meantime, hold fast to Your truth, hold fast to a faith that is certain and rightly rooted and grounded in You, and You alone.  Let us pursue this unity You desire, and let us do so in accordance with Your unifying Spirit, that it might not be some false shell of comradery, but a true unity of heart and mind, fully anchored in You, fully submitted to You, fully engaged in the good work of Your kingdom.

The Witness of Unity (02/11/25)

Moving into verse 28, we are met with another bit of combative imagery.  For one, there is the confession of the obvious:  You have opponents.  There are those who oppose your faith, who hate you because they hate the Lord you serve.  They would see you driven from the walls of faith, sent running for fear of their violence.  The image Paul choses to convey this is wrapped in the command not to be alarmed.  It’s actually not a command, is it, at least not directly.  Rather, it’s the object of that united battle for the faith enjoined in verse 27.  Standing side by side, firm in the faith, you will not be alarmed.  The image, though, is that of horses taking fright.  The picture is familiar enough from various movies, I should think.  The horses are tied for the night, but something has come, and you can see their eyes gone wild, their feet nervously stamping the ground.  They want nothing so much as to be away from whatever threatens.  Cut those ropes and make a sharp noise of some sort, and they’ll all bolt for the hills.  So, that note of alarm here reflects the state of those terrified horses, ready to run at first opportunity.  Never mind the training that must go into a war horse in order that it will withstand the noise and the chaos of battle without simply carrying its rider far away.

The sense, if we follow the JFB, is that here is a response to ‘sudden consternation,’ the surprising, unexpected tumult in the night, if you will.  You’re startled, unable to piece together exactly what’s going on around you, but you know it can’t be good, and you want clear of it.  But no!  This is battle, and for your brother’s sake, you must stand fast, as you count on him to stand fast beside you.  You have joined battle here, whether by choice or by providence, and the battle must be won.  The message is as clear as it is simple.  Do not be moved from God’s truth, not by anything.  Not by false teachers seeking to mislead, not by unbelievers seeking to unperson you, as the popular phrasing has it these days.  Does living your faith boldly threaten finding yourself canceled, expelled from your employments, rejected by your peers, maybe even putting your accounts at risk?  So be it!  God knows what you need, and He will see to it that you have what you need.  And add to that what Paul has already concluded:  To die is gain.  That’s the worst they can do to you, is in theory to speed you on your way home.  In truth, they can’t even do that, for God has already long since determined the number of your days.  So, really, the worst they can do to you is to implement God’s perfect plan for your perfect good.  So, stand.  If God wants you home, you’re coming home anyway.  And if He doesn’t yet desire your presence back home, well, you’ll be at this post some time yet.

The conviction to thus stand, however, does not come easy, does it?  I suspect you, like me, often find yourself wondering how you would face such trial.  Would I stand?  Would I run?  We hope for good answer, should it come to that, but we also recognize our weakness of flesh, and that left to ourselves, we’d quite likely go along to get along, do what we must to preserve our skin.  Ah, but God knows this of us, as well, and will not leave us to our own devices should it be our time to face trial.  Lo, He is with us even to the end of the age, and His promise is that He will not allow such trial to come our way as we cannot withstand in righteousness.  He then ensures the case by supplying us with His own divine power to stand.  These are the promises in which we live.  And the question, as my wife and I read again last night, is, “Do you believe this?” (Jn 11:26).  It’s not enough to know these promises.  It’s not even enough to accept that they are true.  Familiarity and clear understanding of sound doctrine alone will not hold you firm.  It takes belief.  It takes having internalized these truths, taken them to heart, as it were, and woven them into the fabric of our being.  And that, in turn, takes the work of the Holy Spirit within us, forming agreement into conviction, understanding into essence.  And there, we add the firm assurance of Scripture to our backbone strength: “To his own master he stands or falls; and stand he will, for the Lord is able to make him stand” (Ro 14:4).  There, the question is temptation to sin, here, the question is constancy.  But it amounts to the same thing, doesn’t it?

So, take the encouragement offered here.  Let nothing move you.  You stand on God’s truth, so stand firm.  You have come to the Lord of the holy city.  Your religion is not some dirty word.  It is conviction that He who called you is indeed God in heaven and God on earth.  And beloved, hear it as Mr. Henry states it.  “If religion is worth anything, it is worth everything.”  Jesus certainly found it worth everything, humbling Himself to obedience, even to death on the cross, rather than deny the least article of God’s truth.  Can we, His servants, do less?

Now, let me set another boundary.  Our state of battle does not require us, nor even permit us, to revile those who oppose us.  Indeed, Scripture takes pains to make clear that they are not the enemy, but rather those powers of darkness, spiritual powers that lurk behind their actions.  We do not battle against flesh and blood (Eph 6:12).  There are implications to this, aren’t there?  For one, it suggests a much different course of action than belligerence.  If we are busy making clear our displeasure with and rejection of those unbelievers around us, it’s rather hard to see how we expect to draw them to the Gospel.  On the other hand, if we welcome one and all with no call to come up higher, we do not in fact draw them to the Gospel at all.  So, there’s something of a middle ground, neither chasing them away as rejects beyond God’s redemption, nor accepting them as is, to continue unaffected by the Spirit’s working.  Now, let’s be fair.  If the Spirit is working, they cannot possibly remain unaffected.  But we also know full well that many will come and make appearances of a unity that they in no way actually feel.  Never mind the atheist in the pew.  We do well to recognize that some in those pews are in fact actively opposed to the Gospel, seeking to disrupt and ensnare, and otherwise destroy what God is creating.  It’s a futile effort, to be sure, but it can still cause significant grief, and we are called to be on our guard.  In other words, don’t be so focused on pushing unity at all costs that you miss the infiltration of the enemy in your midst.

Yet, when such a one is found, how are we to respond?  Be not alarmed.  Be not dismayed.  And be not moved in the least from your devotion to walking as a citizen of heaven.  How does that look here?  For one, it means we cannot allow ourselves to write this one off as an enemy to be destroyed, or at the very least, expelled and forgotten.  Rather, it should stir in us a certain pity, a pity born of compassion, and of sharing God’s own pain at seeing one who bears His image in such a state.  There is no place for us to celebrate the outcome for our opposition, only to regret the necessity of it.

This is perhaps the hardest part of standing firm.  To stand firm must leave us free of that thirst for vengeance.  Yes, we can and will exalt our Lord and glorify Him in the day of His Justice served.  For one, Justice served demonstrates His essential nature as being Just, and renders that much more wonderful the fact that He has found the means to be our Justifier while remaining perfectly Just.  Yet, it’s not a call to cheer and hoot at those marched off to eternal perdition.  It’s no time to dance on their graves.  No.  It’s a time to demonstrate our true citizenship by sharing in the sorrow our Father feels at the necessity of such judgment.  He, we are assured, desires nothing more than that all should be saved.  Yet, it cannot be so, for the rot of sin runs too deep in the many, and they will not have His love.  Do I understand why it is so?  No.  Do I fully conceive of how it can be that God desires something that does not and will not come to pass?  No, other than to say that somehow desire in this case must differ from will.  Had God willed it, it would be.  Period, end of discussion.  So, why did God will that which He did not desire?  I don’t know.  Perhaps we can ask Him when we arrive.  Perhaps we won’t find the question particularly interesting anymore.

In the meantime, we have this call to stand, firm in one spirit, undismayed by the worst the enemy can do.  And this, Paul tells us, is a sign.  It is a sign for all, but like most signs, the meaning depends which way you read it.  If the sign is pointing this way, but you are insistently going that way instead, then behold, it is a sign of your destruction.  If, on the other hand, you heed the sign’s direction, proceeding as indicated, it is a sign of your salvation.  The sign here is your steadfastness, your refusal to be alarmed.  Your opponents, and here, I suppose we are in fact looking at these human agents of opposition, must see in this evidence of their own inevitable end.  Your steadfastness gives evidence of the validity of faith.  Now, be careful.  There are many who are just as steadfast about a set of beliefs that are deadly to body and soul alike.  Consider the jihadist, for but the most obvious instance.  His convictions run deep enough that he will gladly lose his own life if only he can take others with him.  And he dies fully convinced that his god is pleased by his service, that he will enter into paradise to a hero’s welcome.  His convictions are firm.  His faith runs deep.  But his faith is pure deception, luring him to perdition rather than paradise, and no opportunity to repent.  Oh, the god he served is pleased with him, well enough, but only because the god he serves desires nothing so much as the destruction of all that True God holds dear.  And we must not be drawn into responding in kind.

How, then, do we respond?  By holding out the Gospel undeterred.  By continuing to present the offer of Christ’s forgiveness, even in the face of death.  By calling for repentance even with our last breath.  Think Stephen as he was stoned by the Jews for his audacity in preaching truth.  Did he revile those who put him to death?  No.  Like the Savior he served, he called upon God to forgive them.  It was, in effect, a call for their repentance, for as we know, even our repentance cannot come except there is first that move of God, sending His Spirit to soften our hearts such that repentance becomes possible, assuring us of the forgiveness that is ours for the asking if we will but abandon our course towards hell’s open gates.

Here, then, is a sign of their own end, but let us pray that they can see that sign, heed that sign, and be turned from their wicked ways.  If not, so be it, and may God be praised.  But, oh!  How glorious should they, even at this extreme, come to their senses and turn to serve the living God.  For our own part, let us recognize that these trials are no evidence of failed faith.  Rather, they are the very thing Christ assured us must come to all who follow Him.  In this life in the world, you will have tribulation (Jn 16:33), but take courage!  I have overcome the world.

Recognize your enemy.  Recognize that you are at war.  Recognize that in this war, you are joined with many brothers, and they with you.  Understand the urgency of the hour, and the dire need to stand together.  This is the urgency of the call to unity.  There is an enemy who must be repelled, and it will take us joined as one, arm in arm, weapons ready and facing the line of battle, to repel the assault.  But we do so knowing God stands with us, God equipes us, God empowers us with weapons mighty to the tearing down of strongholds.  We stand knowing that our salvation is as certain as their doom, who oppose us.  We stand knowing that we cannot lose, that even should we die, yet shall we live (Jn 11:25).  Life is so very much more than flesh and blood.  Life goes on when this body has long since gone its way.  And the new body will come.  And we shall be resurrected in that day to abide with our Lord forever, no more to know such battle, no more to suffer the trials of temptation or face the sorrows of loss.

And so, the conclusion.  “The unholy hosts read their own doom in the happy fellowship of the saints of God and see in it a proof of the truth of the Lord’s words.”  I take that from Ironside’s comments.  We stand as evidence.  God is Who He says He is, and His word is certain, His every promise yes, and amen.  Ironside proceeds to make an interesting point in regard to Jesus’ response when Peter made his great confession.  He said, “Upon this rock I will build My church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Mt 16:18).  As Ironside observes, we too often take this as a defensive action, as if we are gathered on the ramparts of the Church repelling an invading force.  But no army ever carried the gates of their city with them.  If we are taking down the gates of hell, it must be that the Church has gone on the offensive, carried the battle to the enemy, taken the ground between the outpost of heaven and the palace of darkness.  This is not the church as a city besieged, but rather the church as besieging the defenses of Hades.  And as we join that battle, at whatever stage, we battle with the certainty of God’s strength, and the assurance that our salvation is as certain as their doom.  But whose doom do we have in view?  Let it be that we remain focused on the true enemy, the powers of darkness, principalities and powers.  Theirs is the fundamental doom.  As for those image-bearers who have been duped by those powers, convinced that they serve God by their violence, let us continue to pray, so long as life endures, that they may yet come to their senses, repent, and return to their Creator.  Let us pray that these who set themselves as our enemies may yet be found to be brothers.