The Church, Salvation and the unity of Christ

First, thank you to all my brothers and sisters that gathered at First Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Ashland, Kentucky to both bless our daughter, Analiese Clare, and extend congratulations on the successful conclusion of my doctorate.  The service, litanies, reception and gifts overwhelmed my family and me.  More than anything, this past Sunday reminded me again of the beauty of Christ’s Church.

On Tuesday of this past week, the Bishop of Rome, Francis, celebrated a service in celebration of St. George.  In his remarks, Francis said, “Christian identity is belonging to the Church, because all of these belonged to the Church, the Mother Church. Because it is not possible to find Jesus outside the Church. The Great Paul VI said: ‘Wanting to live with Jesus without the Church, following Jesus outside of the Church, loving Jesus without the Church is an absurd dichotomy.’ This belonging to the Church is beautiful.”
The irony of his statement is that I agree with his remarks, but not his intent.

Identifying any one denomination with the fullness of the Church of Jesus Christ is a perilous claim.  What, or more accurately stated, who, is the Church?  Dr. Joe Jones, Disciple minister and retired professor of systematic theology from Christian Theological Seminary, defines the Church as the “liberative and redemptive community called into being by the Gospel of Jesus Christ to witness in word and deed the triune God for the benefit of the world.”  The Church of the New Testament is defined in the mystery of the Bride of Christ, the Body of Christ and the New Jerusalem.  The Roman Catholic Church has postulated that the Church must be visible.  Therefore, a mark of the true Church is closely aligned with a visible unity that is global.  In such a definition, the witness of the Roman Catholic Church is a visible and measurable proof that they are the one true Body of Christ.  Incidentally, the Eastern Orthodox Church argues the same point, but concludes that it is they, not the Romans, who are the true Body of Christ.  Throughout the witness of those called Protestants, a new definition has been suggested that claims the Church’s unity is invisible.  That is, it is present, but not made visible in any one organizational structure.  The problem with much of this conversation is, essentially, how we define words. The grammar of faith, or how we talk about matters of faith, functions as the building blocks for our ongoing conversation about the nature and identity of the Church.

As I have served in this great fellowship known as the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), I have come to understand the limitations of language and symbols in our reasoning together (Isaiah 1:18).  The Church is visible. I saw it myself on Sunday. I see it when an Archbishop and an Evangelical pastor stand together in speaking to the world about an understanding of Christ’s call to the world.  I see it when a progressive pastor and a conservative elder stand together to work toward the ending of human trafficking.  I see it when a Roman Bishop makes an appeal for the release of Orthodox Bishops kidnapped in Syria.   The visible unity of the one true Church of Jesus Christ is not bound by institutional structure.  Our visible unity is rooted in the unity of Christ. Christ is not divided. Our unity is not based on who we are, but whose we are.

Defeating the Enemy

My wife says I grew up in a rough neighborhood.  Fifth grade was my hardest year.  I was in my awkward stage and still considered fair game by the bigger bullies on the playground.  By the time I hit high school that would all change as I shot past 6 feet and 230 lbs.  Fifth grade recess was the worst. Soon after scattering on the playground, I would see the boys gathering over by the window where Mrs. Barnes’ class met.  All at once, they would turn and head my way, and in seconds have me surrounded.  My cousin, Darren, would take his place beside me and the jeering would begin.  We would be looking one way and someone would hit us in the back of the head. We would spin around, everyone laughing, trying to find our attacker.  No sooner had we spun around, then we’d get sucker punched by another unknown attacker.  The worst part was not knowing who hit you.

This past week, our fellow human beings in Boston were sucker punched.  We still don’t know who did it.  Will the answer to that question make it easier to recover? In some ways, knowing the identity of the individual who perpetrates this kind of evil makes it manageable.  We get to look at the person, trying to find differences that account for the evil.  Do things like “crazy eyes” and “wild hair” somehow explain it? For some, it does.  Even when it is a group that claims responsibility for terrorist actions, it at least identifies the “bad guys.”  Knowing our enemy gives us a target for retribution. Like battlefield commanders, we raise our swords, point to the enemy and shout, “Charge!”

The Enemy is a coward, a liar, an accuser, and an expert in hiding.  Like a fifth grade boy on a playground, we are trying to find the enemy, believing that somehow the weight of justice or even retribution will rectify the past and preserve the future.  The Enemy strikes when we are not looking, when we are least expecting it.  The Accuser questions everything, chips away at eternal Truth, right and wrong. We know that life often is colored with varying shades of gray, but the expert in camouflage paints a swath of darkness and calls it light.  The Enemy whispers in our ear that our spouse is the problem and if we get rid of her or him, everything will be right with our world.  The Enemy suggests that our leaders are bereft of integrity and can’t be trusted.  Soon, without leaders, our ranks weaken and we spin around after each sucker punch looking for someone to strike out against.  Soon, we start fighting among ourselves.  

After several weeks, Darren and I learned that the best protection was standing back to back.  Suddenly, the dynamic had changed. Our schoolyard bullies were cowards.  They wouldn’t strike us when we were looking.  When we had each other’s back, the playground enemies, cowards to the core, could only taunt. As months went by, Darren and I realized that laughing at them robbed them of their goal.  They wanted us to fear them.  They wanted us paralyzed by confusion.

Sometimes the Enemy hides in the one place we rarely look: our own hearts.  Joy, unity, and faith are feared by the Enemy.  The Word of God, the One who speaks peace, forgiveness, forbearance, disarms the Enemy. We know the Enemy. We know where the Enemy hides. We know that the Enemy will…no…HAS already lost. This is Easter. The power of the Resurrection declares final victory over sin and death. Laugh, celebrate that the Lord of lords has already vanquished the Enemy. Let the light of Christ shine in your hearts. With your life filled in the Light, the Enemy will flee, trying in vain to find shadows that are already being filled with the victory of heaven.

Welcoming God by the world: Part 1

The first in a two-part series looking at how God is welcomed by the world:

This past week, I took some time to reorganize my home library.  I’m not sure how many books I actually have in my library, but it is enough to organize them in order of topics.  I rediscovered a volume on the failure of one of world’s first experiments with democracy, the Roman Republic.  Historians debate the actually length of the empire, as it evolved from a Republic to an authoritarian Empire and then divided into a western experiment led by the Roman Church while the eastern Byzantine Empire was abandoned both politically and culturally to the Islamic-influenced Ottoman Empire.

The French experiment at democracy is nestled in these years of Roman evolution, and it is the French, not Roman, experiment that ultimately led to the founding of the United States of America. In the French experiment, the Church found itself on the wrong side of the Revolution.  French intellectuals, like Voltaire, Rousseau and Diderot, affluent themselves, argued that both the crown and the church should be dissolved.  Diderot announced his desire to see “the last king strangled with the guts of the last priest.”  The efforts of these intellectuals to first garner the support of the church gave way to animosity when the church refused to support the revolution and was, rightfully so, viewed as an enabler of oppression. Noted author and professor Dr. Hunter Baker writes that the French Revolution was, “designed not merely to overturn the throne, but also break the power of the altar.”  Baker argues that the battle cry of the French Revolution was freedom, democracy and secularism.

However, this secularism was not just an idea of freedom of thought, but a freedom from Christianity and its declarations of ultimate truth.  Of course, the aftermath of the Revolution was far from spotless.  The gruesome and public execution of King Louis XVI by the guillotine fed a public frenzy for the blood of priests and bishops.

In France, a new empire of the fatherland was envisioned.  In this post-revolution era, opportunity for power hungry leaders like Napoleon to rise to power became the heritage of the French experiment in democracy.  The capstone of such despots was ultimately realized with the rise of Adolph Hitler, who fancied himself greater than Napoleon and the emperor of a new Rome.  Even in the course of these human events, the church, both Protestant and Roman Catholic, found itself in the middle of international change.  Many leaders welcomed the idea of a national church while others rejected faith wholesale and persecuted the church vehemently.  At its best, the church moderated the will of power hungry monarchs. At its worst, the Church became a partner in oppression. The call of the Church of Jesus Christ is to announce the reign of God.  This will generally put us at odds with both political sides and even the entire world.

Next week: A Secular Nation?