Archives for March 2020

Part 1: It’s Who We Are | Part 2: What It’s For | Part 3: Getting There | Part 4: Measuring Success

Biblical fellowship is a two-sided coin, or a two-edged sword, or a two-way street, or something. (The title of this post strongly implies that I don’t know anything at all about baseball.)

I’d like to close this series, and the larger metaseries about the means of grace, by noting that fellowship, our reciprocal care for one another in the body of Christ, is a comprehensive task that involves complex people. It’s not enough to just try to be positive and encouraging.

Biblical Encouragement

Of course it includes encouragement, what the good old King James calls “exhortation.” The Greek word is paraklesis, a term applied to the work of both the Holy Spirit, our “Comforter” (Jn 14.16, 26; 15.26; 16.7), and Jesus himself, our “Advocate” (1Jn 2.1). We’re often “called alongside” to comfort others, perhaps just to be there with a ministry of presence, sitting silently with them in their grief or frustration or rage, or to pray with them and for them, or to encourage them to get back up and keep going, or to step in and do for them what they’re unable to do for themselves at the moment (Jam 5.14-15).

So yes, we ask a lot of questions when we gather, and we listen to the answers, seeking for ways that we can encourage our brothers and sisters through our spiritual gifts, teaching, helping, showing mercy, praying. It’s an obsession with us, or it ought to be.

Biblical Confrontation

But there’s more to fellowship than just that.

This word paraklesis, “exhortation,” is sometimes—indeed, most of the time—used in a stronger, more “negative” sense, one that includes confrontation, rebuke, the image of the coach getting in the player’s face and telling him that he can do better.

Paul exhorted the Corinthians to finish the work that they hadn’t yet completed (2Co 9.5). He exhorted the Thessalonians, without “flattering words,” to hear and respond to the gospel (1Th 2.3-6)—both the offer of salvation and the threat of perdition. Once they believed, he exhorted them to start making progress in obedience to God’s Word (1Th 4.1), and to exhort others in ways that included “warn[ing] the unruly” (1Th 5.14). Later he exhorted the indolent in the same church to get a job and earn their keep (2Th 3.12). He advised his protégé Timothy to “reprove, rebuke, exhort” (2Ti 4.2) his hearers. He told Titus to “exhort … those who contradict” (Ti 1.9). Jude exhorts his readers to “earnestly contend for the faith” (Jude 1.3).

As a former pastor of mine used to say, these are “stout words.” There is grace here, and patience, but there’s no coddling. Given who we are—in the image of God, but broken and susceptible to the gravitational force of our own sinful nature—we need brothers and sisters who will speak truth to us, lovingly but firmly, and who know us well enough to know when it’s time to jerk the chain. And we need to be that kind of spiritual sibling to those around us in the body as well.

We can’t do that for people we don’t know. We have to talk deeply and trustingly with one another, wisely using gentle support when it’s called for, and turning into the football coach when that’s necessary for the good of the player on the field.

You don’t get to know somebody that well just by saying “Hello” in the hallway or the aisle on Sunday morning. You don’t get that far into someone’s head and heart if you’re refusing to be honest about your own struggles, or worse yet, if you’re gossiping about the things they tell you. You get there over time, with attention and sacrifice, and with lots of prayer, individually and together.

Biblical fellowship is time-consuming hard work. It doesn’t happen without commitment and purpose and focus.

But the payoff is beyond words.

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Part 1: It’s Who We Are | Part 2: What It’s For | Part 3: Getting There

Last time we considered a passage from Ephesians 5 that provided some basic principles to underlie our exercise of fellowship. This time I’d like to consider a different Pauline passage, one that helps us recognize when we’re succeeding.

In the opening paragraph of Philippians 2, Paul exhorts the church to live out their unity in Christ in several specific ways—

• By being united to the core of their being (Php 2.2)—of one mind (what they focus their thinking on), of one love (how they choose to focus their energies and attention), of one spirit (Greek psuche, or self—what their life is all about). (The fourth phrase, “of one purpose,” is essentially a repetition of the first one.)
• By setting aside their own interests or priorities (Php 2.3a)—not acting selfishly or out of a desire for self-promotion (“empty conceit,” literally “empty glory”; the KJV “vainglory” may be archaic, but it very specifically captures the word’s meaning).
• By putting the needs and priorities of others ahead of their own (Php 2.3b-4)—which is exactly what love is all about; you demonstrate your love for someone by putting that person’s needs or conveniences ahead of your own inconvenience, without considering future remuneration. As Tertullian argued, the early Romans marveled at how the Christians loved one another.

What Paul is essentially asking is that they think as a team, being united in their purpose.

That’s what our churches should look like, whether assembled or out as ambassadors in the world; we should care for one another, each laboring to make the others better ambassadors for the kingdom. We should be working tactically, maximizing the strengths of every member of the team, using those strengths to support teammates whose skills are somewhere else.

Paul spends much of the rest of the chapter setting forth three examples of this kind of thinking.

• The first example, to no one’s surprise, is Christ himself. In this famous Christological passage (Php 2.5-11) Paul presents Christ as the paramount example of someone who puts himself at the greatest possible disadvantage—from “equality with God” to “even the death of the cross”—for the greatest possible advantage of those he loves. No sacrifice that any of us could possibly make for the spiritual benefit of a Christian teammate could come close to the example of sacrifice he has already laid down for us.
• Paul’s second example is his protégé, Timothy (Php 2.19-24). Paul notes that Timothy has a long record of selfless service—likely more than a decade as he writes this epistle—“like a child serving his father” (Php 2.22). From that record Paul concludes that there is “no one else of kindred spirit who will genuinely be concerned for your welfare” (Php 2.20). And Timothy’s service to Paul is not without risk; besides the long list of difficulties Paul underwent (2Co 11.23-27), we know that Timothy himself was imprisoned as well (Heb 13.23).
• The final example is someone most Christians would have trouble identifying. His name is Epaphroditus (Php 2.25-30), and he spent time with Paul when the latter was under house arrest in Rome awaiting his hearing before Caesar (Ac 28.30-31). He was well known to the believers at Philippi; some commentators speculate that he was actually their pastor, but we do know for certain that he was one of the men sent from that church to bring Paul gifts during his house arrest (Php 4.18), and that on that trip he became sick, nearly dying (Php 2.30), but had recovered (Php 2.27-28). This was someone who “risked his life” for the work of the kingdom (Php 2.30).

So how are we doing? How seriously do we take our fellowship? When’s the last time you risked something in order to benefit another member of the body? When’s the last time you even put up with a little inconvenience to do so?

As I write this, the US is in the process of shutting down over COVID-19. The school where I teach, like many others, is sending its students home, where they’ll finish the academic year through online classes. At church we’re not shaking hands, and we’re thinking about the old folks, who are at higher risk.

There are people in our churches that are going to need some help, the sort that will inconvenience us. Next to the examples above, that’s small potatoes, isn’t it?

Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Part 1: It’s Who We Are | Part 2: What It’s For

It’s time to look a little more closely at what we’re actually doing as we minister our gifts to one another in the church.

A passage I find helpful in this regard is the opening paragraph of Ephesians 5, which is just one sentence with two main verbs that point us to how we conduct our relationships in the church.

¹ Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; ² and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.

Loving As God Loves

The first verb tells us to imitate God, who loves us. So, clearly, we’re to love one another—and to do so as God loves.

How does God love?

The Bible gives us a lot of information about that. We can all make that topic a focus of study for the rest of our lives—and we all should.

Here are a few thoughts that come quickly to mind:

• He loves us despite the fact that we don’t deserve it. He loved Israel not because she was great and mighty (Dt 7.7-8), and even in spite of her constant unfaithfulness (Ezk 33.11). Jesus told us to love those who persecute us (Mt 5.43-44), and he set the example for us in the moment of his most intense crisis (Lk 23.34). We ought to love fellow believers who aren’t attractive (to us) and who can’t do anything for us in return.
• He loves us in ways that made him vulnerable, as the examples cited above also demonstrate. By the very act of creating humans in his image, God was committing himself to dying, in the nature of his Son, at the hands of his own creatures—and to becoming one of us forever. Cur Deus Homo?, indeed.
• And so he loves sacrificially as well (Ro 5.8).

We should love another like this. If we did, the lost would indeed notice. And so would our fellow believers.

Living Out That Love

One of the dangers of talking about loving people is that many in our culture take that as no more than an emotion. You feel the little thing in your heart, and you click “Like,” or maybe even “Love!” and then you move on.

Biblical love isn’t like that. Biblical love moves you to act; as the most famous verse in the Bible says, “God so loved … that he gave” (Jn 3.16). And so our passage tells us not just to imitate God by loving, but to “walk in love,” just as Christ gave himself for us because he loved us (Ep 5.2).

In other words, we should love as the Bible directs us to.

Again, we could generate a long list of specific biblical commands and examples on how to love. But let’s start with just a few of the obvious ones:

• Biblical love finds its source in God himself (1Th 3.12). It’s not something we can work up and then maintain. As we enrich and mature our relationship with God, the Lover of our souls, we find a “deep, sweet well of love” that flows out of us and into the needs of our fellow believers.
• Biblical love finds its pattern in God himself (1Jn 3.16)—as our jumping-off verse, Ephesians 5.2, has already told us.
• Biblical love invariably results in action (1Jn 3.18)—and genuine, sincere action at that. We give without reserve and without regret—a response enabled and empowered by God.

Next time, we’ll consider what the outcome of this process of fellowship through active love looks like.

Part 4: Measuring Success | Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

Part 1: It’s Who We Are

Last time we noted that from the beginning we’ve been designed for fellowship, for interpersonal relationships—and that for our time in history, the church is a significant part of God’s plan for that. He even commands us to keep at it.

OK, if God says I’m supposed to fellowship, then I will.

But what’s the point? What am I supposed to be trying to accomplish? I don’t suppose there’s any bigger waste of time than a bunch of people standing around without any understanding of what they’re there for.

Most Christians, I suppose, go through the traditional church activities because, well, that’s what we do.

For as long as this family has been believers, we’ve gone to Sunday school and church on Sunday mornings, where we sit through, first, a Sunday school lesson, and then, a sermon—preceded by a welcome, 2 songs, an offering, another song, special music, and followed by an invitation and a closing hymn—and then we come back Sunday night for a similar but veeeery slightly less formal service, and then a prayer meeting on Wednesday night, where there’s another sermon, and some prayer requests, and then—well, actually, not usually much time left for actual prayer, but we did have a good time of, um, fellowship.

That’s what we do.

But why? What are we trying to accomplish? How will we know if we’ve succeeded?

Church, and the fellowship that comes with it, is God’s provision for accomplishing a greater work—gathering unto himself a people from all nations (Rev 7.9-12), and conforming them, over time, to the image of his Son, Jesus Christ (Rom 8.29). That’s really what all this is about—not just church, but all of history and everything it touches.

So we could say that the ultimate purpose of fellowship is the glory of God—a worship that is appropriate to the magnitude of his person and works.

And how do we accomplish that?

By helping one another become more and more like Christ, a little bit at a time, week by week, over a long period of time (Mt 28.19-20).

To help us with that, God has given every one of his people one or more spiritual gifts, which we can exercise for the benefit of those alongside us in the body. I’ve written a little iconoclastically on spiritual gifts before, and I’ve also written on the importance of our exercising our gifts intentionally whenever we gather. Go take a look at those posts. I’ll wait.

_____

OK.

We gather, then, to help one another become more like Christ by exercising our gifts toward those who need them. As we do that, faithfully, patiently, week after week, we find that those to whom we’re ministering are making progress, being sanctified, becoming a little more like Jesus, even though we’re not all that good an example. And in those interchanges, they’re ministering to us in return, and we find that we’re making progress in sanctification as well.

This doesn’t have to happen “at church.” (Since the church is just the people of God, entwined by mutual agreement, the very expression “at church” is essentially meaningless.) Many churches have set up “small groups” (mine calls them “Grace Groups,” because “Grace” is part of our name) that meet together regularly to discuss the Word, to share prayer requests, to pray together, and frankly just to socialize. You know what happens? As time passes, these little groups get to know one another better, and to develop trust, and before you know it they’re caring for one another in ways that go far beyond the “how you doing?” shallow greetings that so often characterize our exchanges in the hallways of the church building.

Sometimes Christians don’t wait for the church to set up small groups. Sometimes they agree to meet regularly with another believer or two that they trust, and they pursue that same sanctifying work in one another.

Now that’s fellowship.

And you know what happens then?

People start to notice. People in the church who want that kind of relationship in their own lives. And people outside the church, unbelievers, who say—or at least think—“how they love one another!” (Jn 13.35).

And in the end of it all, God is glorified.

That’s why we fellowship.

Part 3: Getting There | Part 4: Measuring Success | Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash

As this year began I started a series on spiritual growth, which I called “On Building Spiritual Muscle.” The series focused on the key spiritual exercises that the Bible prescribes for spiritual health, exercises that Christians have generally called “the means of grace”: Scripture, prayer, and fellowship. The next series, “On Devotions,” focused on the first two of those means of grace, and particularly on our private practice of them.

Now I’d like to spend a few posts talking about the third means of grace, fellowship. The first series included a single post on it, but there’s a lot more to say about it, and I’d like to suggest a few things that might help us all pursue fellowship purposefully and effectively.

Let me start by addressing my fellow introverts. (Yes, I’m one too, even if I don’t appear to be.)

Some of us aren’t naturally inclined toward relationships, particularly close ones, and particularly in significant numbers. People wear us out, and when that happens, we get crotchety and impatient and frustrated, and we say things we shouldn’t, and we get irritated by the inexplicable things other people do, and we decide that it’s just simpler to go live in the woods.

Church fellowship? No thanks. Been there, done that. Don’t need the hassle. I’m fine.

I know people who have withdrawn from church for these reasons. I’ve thought about it myself.

But let me suggest a different path.

Somebody made us—designed us. He’s made us to operate in a certain way, and he’s set down some engineering specifications that we really ought to pay attention to if we want to operate at our best.

So what did our designer have in mind for us?

We find that he designed us for the specific purpose of having a relationship with him. That’s clear from the beginning—

• He made us “in his image,” someone who, unlike the animals, could relate to him (Gen 1.27).
• He initiated a relationship with the first man, and he defined him in terms of his relationship with him (Gen 2.15-16).
• He sought to pursue that relationship through time spent together (Gen 3.8-9).

We were made to have a relationship with God, to walk by his side and interact with him regularly. If we don’t do that, we’re going to be screwdrivers trying to drive nails; we’re going to be violating our very purpose.

Did you notice that I skipped over an important part of that passage in Genesis?

God didn’t make just one man. He made the man, and then he gave him a task designed to point up the fact that he was alone. As Adam named the animals (Gen 2.19), he saw the obvious fact that they came in pairs, male and female. And the absence of a female for him was starkly obvious (Gen 2.20); as God had already observed, “It is not good for the man to be alone” (Gen 2.18). So God made a woman, a partner, a companion for him, and Adam saw immediately that she was someone he needed; he even responded by speaking poetry, apparently right off the top of his head (Gen 2.23).

From the beginning we’ve been designed for fellowship. It’s not good when we don’t have it.

Further, the New Testament makes it clear that the church was designed to play a significant role in meeting that need. Immediately after the church began at Pentecost, the Scripture identifies the four key activities in which they were engaged (Ac 2.42):

• The apostles’ teaching (i.e. Scripture)
• Fellowship
• Breaking of bread (likely the Lord’s Supper)
• Prayer

We find them gathering regularly throughout those early days (Ac 4.31; 11.26; 12.12; 14.27; 15.4, 30; 18.22; 20.7-8). And lest we think that this gathering was optional, we’re directly commanded “not [to] forsak[e] the assembling of ourselves together” (Heb 10.25).

This is really important; it’s at the core of who we are.

We need one another, and we have responsibilities toward one another.

So why should we gather? What should we be trying to accomplish?

We’ll look into that next time.

Part 2: What It’s For | Part 3: Getting There | Part 4: Measuring Success | Part 5: Covering Both the Bases

Photo by Jack Sharp on Unsplash