What Is the Church?

We see them all around town: buildings with signs out front that have the name of a church on them. It’s quite common, and partly because of that, we rarely think deeply about the nature of the church. So today, get your brain in gear and let’s dig deep.

After being started in the pastor’s house in 1883, the church I pastor has met in three different buildings. The first was built in 1889, where the Post Office now stands. The second is now the home of Delgado’s Dugout. The current structure was erected in 1969. Yet, none of these buildings, nor any of the other similar edifices in town, should be called a “church.” “Church-building,” “meeting-house,” and even “gathering-place” are good terms for these facilities. A “church,” however, is not made of brick, stones and wood, but of people.

The word “church” is used in English-language Bibles to translate the New Testament Greek term “ekklesia.” (The New Testament was originally written in Greek.) This word is used 112 times in the New Testament to refer to the body of Christ.

Some background on the term helps us understand what the church is. “Ekklesia” literally means “called out ones,” or “chosen ones.” In secular society during New Testament times, “ekklesia” was used for the gathered body of those chosen by the people to be their leaders: in other words, the assembly of the called out and chosen ones.

Since Christians are those who are chosen by God (1 Peter 2:9), called out by Him (1 Corinthians 1:9), and commanded to assemble regularly (Hebrews 10:24-25), it made sense for Christians to be called the “ekklesia:” those chosen by God and gathered by God.

The church, of course, did not start in a vacuum. Early Christians were mostly Jews, who met weekly or more often in “synagogues,” a term that simply means “congregation” or “gathering place.” The early church developed most of its forms and government from the practices of the synagogue, practices in which Jesus Himself readily participated throughout His life and ministry.

In the New Testament, “ekklesia” is used 18 times to mean the universal church: everyone, everywhere who has ever been saved. But it’s used most often – 94 times, to be precise – to mean a local band of folks committed to one another, meeting weekly or more often to worship and pray; to make disciples and evangelize the lost; and to share each other’s lives in fellowship and service.

And the point of all this? Let me quote the old children’s song:

The church is not a building.

The church is not a steeple.

The church is not a resting place.

The church is the people.

Christians ARE the church. If you are saved, you are united with all Christians everywhere. That mystical union finds its functional expression in a local body of believers committed to Christ and one another. Something extraordinary happens when that group gathers in His name: Jesus shows up in a way He won’t at any other time. And that’s beautiful!

So, go be with the church this Sunday! Jesus will be meeting with His people! Don’t miss the gathering. It’s great!

Where Is Your Confidence?

“ . . . as you wait for the revealing of our Lord Jesus Christ, Who will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is faithful, by Whom you were called into fellowship with His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.” – 1 Corinthians 1:7b-9

I think this is becoming my new favorite passage of Scripture, in no small measure because of its context. The Apostle Paul, moved by the Holy Spirit, wrote these promising words to a church the likes of which I’ve never seen – and, I hope, never will see.

By all accounts, the church in Corinth was a mess. And yet, Paul begins his letter to this mess of a church by expressing his overt confidence in their sanctification.

I’m not sure I could have been so confident. Consider the condition of this church.

At least four rival factions were vying for power. One of the church leaders was sleeping with his mother-in-law, and the church didn’t seem to find that inappropriate. Church members were getting drunk at the Lord’s Supper. Members of the church were involved in suits against each other. Abuse of the gifts of the Holy Spirit was common. The church was so much like the perverse society of the Corinthian community that it was hard to distinguish Christians from pagans. Indeed, it was so bad that Paul offered his inspired assessment that their “worship services do more harm than good” (1 Corinthians 11:17).

It was to such a church that Paul wrote with a solid assurance that their future was bright, and their sanctification certain. How could he be so sure?

Look at the first few words of verse 9: “God is faithful, by Whom you were called.” Paul knew that God had started the Corinthian church, and that He was determined to finish what He had begun. God is faithful. He was looking to the faithfulness of God.

To whom do we look?

Paul also understood something of the call of God. The God Who is faithful had summoned these former pagans to Himself. He initiated the relationship with them by virtue of His prior choice; and He initiated a relationship with us in precisely the same miraculous manner. Our response to God’s call was preceded by the call itself: before we considered coming to Him, He called us to Himself.

And because He called us, how can our hearts do anything but burst with uncontrollable gratitude? Let us not entertain the vain notion that we deserved His call, or that we earned His favor. He is holy and righteous, inapproachable in the fire of His zealous perfection; and yet the miracle of grace is seen in this wonder: He called us.

That’s why Paul could be confident about the church at Corinth: the God Who is faithful called them. When you think of your church, your brothers and sisters in the Lord, and even your own walk with the Lord, where is your confidence?

The Wonder of It All

When her mother came to pick her up one day at the close of that morning’s Vacation Bible School, she took Mommy’s hand and led her into the big meeting room. With wide eyes and a quiet kind of awe in her four-year-old voice, she said “This is where the music is.”

Then she escorted Mommy all around the room. There was the puppet stage where Nick and Cooper, Stan and Alex helped us learn what love is. Then there were the props and plants, along with the big umbrella, the hammock and the grill, that comprised our attempt to turn the sanctuary into “God’s big backyard.”

“Look, Mommy!” she said, as she pointed at each picture or prop.

“Look!”

And, though she wasn’t speaking to me, I too began to look. And to see.

During much of our preparation for Vacation Bible School, I could think of little else except how much work our volunteers were putting in. But then, as the third day of our week-long adventure drew to a close, God gave me a glimpse of the whole endeavor through the eyes of a four-year-old. Suddenly, the wonder was there, as it should have been all along.

The wonder is not simply that a group of busy adults would spend more than a hundred hours decorating a church building for a VBS program. The wonder is not only that many of them worked for weeks preparing crafts, lessons and Bible stories to tell the children. The wonder is not merely in the work of baking hundreds of cookies and sandwiches for Friday’s lunch and program, nor only in the uncounted sacrifices made by so many to make Vacation Bible School as successful as possible. Amazingly, this kind of supreme effort commonly takes place, in churches throughout this community, many times over every summer.

But the greatest wonder is not in the effort or the program.

The wonder is what lies behind all the work: hearts touched by God, full of His love, and gripped by a passion to share His love and let the little children come to Him, no matter how much work it takes.

The height and depth and length and breadth of the wonder is in the outpoured love of God seen in His Son dying on the cross for wide-eyed four-year-olds and weary middle-aged pastors alike. The wonder is the fact that He loved His rebellious creation so much that He came and lived among the rebels themselves, and took the just punishment for their rebellion upon Himself. That, indeed, is the greatest wonder there is.

I remember that when I was just a little child myself, my dad often sang these words made famous by George Beverly Shea. “Oh, the wonder of it all! The wonder of it all! Just to think that God loves me!”

Indeed.

Just think of it, that wonder-full love of His! Then, like a little child, come to Jesus again, and thank Him for how much He loves you. It’s a wonder!

I LOVE YOU, JESUS!

Last Wednesday morning, I stood next to my son and daughter-in-law, and gazed in wonder at the eight-pound miracle she had just brought into this world. Perfect in every way, and without question the most lovely grand-daughter ever born, little Katie tugged instantly at my heart. I longed to hold her, or rather, to be held by her, enthralled by her perilous beauty.

Later, as I held her and memorized her features, I thought of another little girl with the same name. Let me tell you that story.

When my wife and I were also just a couple of kids, she gave birth to twins, quite prematurely. Both were too small to live; but, wanting to acknowledge the reality of their personhood before God, we named them: Aaron Vaughn and Katherine Elizabeth. Both died within a day of their July 3 birthday.

Fast forward twenty-eight years to last spring. Our son and daughter-in-law had been to her doctor, and the ultrasound indicated she was carrying a girl, due in early July. A few days later, the two of them came to our home with a query. They wanted to know if it would be okay to name their daughter Katherine Elizabeth. They also want to add the name Grace, the middle name of our twenty-six year old.

With tears in our eyes, we gladly told them that would be a perfect way of redeeming the old scars in our hearts. More amazing still, their Katie was due around the same time our Katie had been born and died. So, God was determined to change even the memories of our loss that are evoked each summer by this season of fireworks.

All of that was whirling through my mind on Wednesday morning as I sat there holding this little grand-miracle in my arms, recounting the ways in which God had wondrously finalized the healing of an old pain. Then my wife slipped her arm into mine, and pulled me from one reverie into another. “Isn’t she beautiful?” she said.

“Oh, yes,” I replied.

“You know,” she continued, “Jesus came into the world in just the same way!”

“Amazing! It’s really just amazing,” I said, and the tears began to flow fresh.

He could have entered the world as an adult, you know, or ridden suddenly down from on high before the vanguard of heaven’s armies. He could have simply materialized one day in the temple, preaching the Truth, proclaiming the Gospel and demanding by virtue of His spectacular appearing the sudden loyalty of all who beheld Him.

But He chose a more common way, a more humble path to take into this world of rebels. He came in such a way as to claim not only your allegiance but also your heart.

Has He come to you? Remember then, how He enthralled you, drew you and claimed your heart. If it’s been a while, that’s all the more reason to turn to Him now and tell Him, “O Jesus, thank You for loving me and capturing my heart. I love You, Jesus!”

THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

God has a very different value system than that which the world has.

In the early 1950’s, Jim and his young wife Beth set off for the mission field in South America. A brilliant linguist and scholar, Jim’s heart was to translate the scriptures into new languages and share the Gospel with unreached people groups. They lived in a small house near a remote river, with just a few other missionaries. After making significant progress learning the languages of the natives, they made a few halting efforts at sharing the Gospel. On their first overnight visit in one of the native villages, Jim and four of his missionary partners were brutally murdered by a group of ten Huaorani men. Jim was only 28 years old at the time of his death.

Many people would call the deaths of Jim Elliot and his young friends a tragedy, the waste of five good lives. But, that is not what God calls it.

Let me tell you about the tragedy of wasted lives.

Brian and Keesha (not their real names) pursued life in the financial fast lane for the first several years of their marriage. With fierce determination, they bought and sold, invested and saved, and for them, everything paid off. Before age 40, they had acquired enough cash and property to retire quite well. They made the Caribbean their home base, and started traveling the world. Most of their time is spent lounging on the beaches at their various oceanfront resort properties. In the moments when they’re not living the good life, they still run a business via the internet dedicated to teaching others how to get rich and retire early just like they did.

Now, THAT’S tragic!

On the one hand, consider five young men willing to “spend and be spent” (2 Corinthians 12:15) in joyfully rescuing people from hell as they display Christ for the eternal Treasure that He truly is. On the other hand, here’s a couple for whom the ultimate in success is to do nothing at all with the best years of their lives except teach others – at a handsome profit! – how to do nothing at all with the best years of their lives.

On October 28, 1949, just over six years before Jim Elliot was murdered, he wrote in his journal these amazing words that summarize God’s understanding of true success: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.”

All around us, even here in Northeast Colorado, are people who are just as much without the Gospel as were those Huaorani who murdered Jim Elliot and his partners. He was willing to risk everything for the sake of their souls. What are you risking for the sake of your neighbors who don’t know Jesus?

You don’t have to go far to be a missionary. Indeed, the mission field is all around you. What are you doing with the rest of your life?