THE ESSENCE OF CHRISTIAN FELLOWSHIP

Those of us who teach philosophy find the word essence to be useful in getting to the inside of tough intellectual problems. The term may be equally helpful in probing the meaning of fellowship. In searching for the essence of fellowship we are looking for the heart of it, for that, without which, fellowship would no longer be fellowship.

Aristotle says that the essence of a thing is its soul or whatness, such as the soul of a knife would be that it cuts or that the soul of a pen is that it writes. Other thinkers identify essence as the being or power of a thing; or even the universal possibility of a thing. The essence of an acorn, therefore, would be its potential for becoming an oak.

It makes for interesting discussion among college students to raise the question of the essence of man. One student was getting at it when she pointed out that the essence of her own selfhood was “whatever it is, if I should lose it, I would no longer be me.” She could lose her eyes, ears, and power of speech and still be herself. She could even lose her limbs, as well as all her possessions, and still be a person. She mentioned someone who was institutionalized, a serious case of psychosis, whom friends referred to in the past tense (He was such a fine person), as an example of one who has lost the essence of being human. So it has to do with mind and soul.

When Aristotle speaks of the essence of man, he refers to “proper function,” as in the case of the knife or pen. A pen that does not write has lost its essence and is no longer truly a pen. So a man who does not function according to his unique character is not truly man. Man may hunt, build houses, reproduce his species, and wage war; but this is not unique, for the animals do likewise. Man’s uniqueness is his power to think critically about himself and his world, and through intellectual effort to gain control of his environment. So people who behave only as animals are not truly human beings, for they have forfeited their essence, their proper function, according to Aristotle. It raises interesting questions about such folk as feral children (those who wander from civilization and are raised by animals), as to whether they are really human. Then the question moves on to the multitudes of people who live more like animals than intelligent human beings.

Aristotle’s point is that if an acorn is not truly an acorn if it has no power to produce an oak, so a man is not truly man if he is not behaving in those ways commensurate with his nature. There is more to being a person than merely having the physical characteristics. The existentialists step in here and insist that it is not enough to live, for to really be one must exist. And so the likes of Jean Paul Sartre talk of “Existence precedes essence.” Most of us like to tell folk that they are not really living but only existing, but Sartre would turn it around and insist that people are only living and not really existing. All this has to do with the essence of being a person.

It would be helpful if a bunch of us could get together, those of us representing our tragically divided brotherhood, and have this kind of critical discussion on the essence of fellowship. We speak in strange language about fellowship. Recently a brother was criticizing a lesson I had presented, and he said: “He fellowships anything and everybody.” Obviously I did not succeed in getting my point over to him. It would be helpful to lay the matter out on the table before us and be precise as to what is meant by fellowship when used in such a context. He says I fellowship everything. Does this include doctrines like premillennialism and fundamentalism? Does it include things like instrumental music, Sunday School literature, and cups? If so, then fellowship is necessarily related to doctrines and things, and we are likely to have as many different fellowships as there are things and doctrines.

He says I fellowship everybody, a reference that makes fellowship even more ambiguous. It sounds as if it is something that I do or don’t do to a person, something that I extend and withdraw at will. That it is a word belonging to the family of ship terms should help to correct this impression. We may ask a man if Bill Jones is a partner with him in his business. We would be surprised to hear the man say, “No, I do not partnership Bill Jones.” It would be even more awkward to apply it to a thing, such as: “I’m not driving that old Ford. I don’t partnership it.”

Or take companionship. We would never say “Don’t companionship that man,” or “We don’t companionship that night club.” These ship words imply a relationship between persons or as Webster indicates they show state or condition. Any “ship” relationship would suggest that people are in the same state or condition. So I would say “He and I enjoy a beautiful friendship” but never “I friendship him.” We Christians would say “We share sonship with Jesus,” but never “We sonship Jesus.”

Then why do we have this hangup on fellowship. The Bible speaks of “the fellowship of the Spirit,” but it would be confusing to find it saying “We fellowship the Spirit.” It says also “We have fellowship one with another,” which is very different from saying “We fellowship one another.” If we have something together, it is likely provided by someone else, but if fellowship is ours to give and withdraw, it becomes a commodity rather than a state. Even in such language as “You have fellowship with demons,” indicated in 1 Cor. 10:20, the idea is that of one moving into the same state or relationship with the demons. To say “You fellowship demons” would be as meaningless as “Tom friendships Jim.”

This helps our cause in getting to the essence of fellowship, for we can see that it has to do with state or relationship. Better still, it is a qualitative relationship rather than quantitative, for “ship” can be between two people or two million. It is a certain kind of relationship that puts them in the same state. When two men take on certain common qualities, they might be referred to as sharing a partnership. It is like the “hood” words. You become my neighbor by moving close to me, so that we share certain things in common. But we would never say “We started neighborhooding one another last summer.”

Even yet we are not ready to put a finger on the precise point of Christian fellowship. As we might do in studying the essence of man, let’s look for a moment at what fellowship is not, that is, the qualities that could be missing and we would still have fellowship.

1. Fellowship is not a matter of approval or endorsement.

This is to say that we might not approve of a person’s conduct or endorse the positions he holds and still be in the fellowship with him. Indeed, fellowship might be sweeter and more meaningful if we did approve, but it is not necessary to the relationship. The Bible is replete with examples of this. Paul certainly did not approve of Peter on some occasions, rebuking him to his face as he did, but they remained in the fellowship together. The apostles were always disagreeing, sometimes rather bitterly, but this did not impair fellowship. And so it is with all the “hoods” and “ships” of life. Brothers in a family seldom agree, but still there is brotherhood. Business partners often have a time of it, but still there is partnership.

2. Fellowship is not a matter of agreement on doctrine or opinions.

Look at the congregation at Corinth with all its disagreements, a condition that reached serious proportions. But this did not keep Paul from writing that “You were called into the fellowship of his Son” and “You are the body of Christ.” It is true that factious behavior placed a great strain upon fellowship, as foul business practices do to a partnership, but it did not nullify the relationship that they shared in the Christ. If fellowship were dependent upon agreement in ideas, doctrines, and practices, then the Corinthians could never have been called by God into the fellowship, for their backgrounds were so different that they could never have seen everything alike. In Cor. 6 Paul says that they came out of a background of thievery, homosexuality, idolatry, and drunkenness. It would be impossible to get a unanimity of viewpoint out of a crowd like that. But the miracle of grace is that out of such a checkered background, that included the noble as well as the ignoble, God could bring them all into relationship with His Son. Unity in diversity! And can there really be any other kind?

3. Fellowship is not a matter of being right or wrong doctrinally.

Nothing is made plainer than Paul’s language in Romans 14, where he is saying that one brother believes one thing, while another brother believes something else, and obviously they think each other to be wrong and themselves right. “One man will have faith enough to eat all kinds of food, while a weaker man eats only vegetables,” he says, “The man who eats must not hold in contempt the man who does not, and he who does not eat must not pass judgement on the one who does; for God has accepted him.” Here we have the basis of fellowship: God has accepted him.

If God accepts him as a son, I am to accept him as a brother, regardless of how right or wrong he may be, which I can judge only by the way he agrees with my own position! The point is that God claims us as his children even when we are wrong, and so we are to accept each other.

We get hung up on this bit about “brothers-in-error,” as if there were some other kind. Were not Paul and Peter in error? At least Paul says Peter stood condemned, and Peter says Paul writes stuff that you can’t understand. If fellowship depends on being right about everything, then a person cannot be in fellowship even with himself. If we were not all wrong at one time or another, and a bit stubborn along with it, there would be no place for forbearance.

The admonition to “forbear one another” indicates that there is sometimes a lot to endure from each other. This we do because we are in the fellowship together, not to make the fellowship possible. Fellowship would therefore be no greater, or more extensive, between two brothers that agree on hardly anything except their common love for Jesus. Just as in my father’s family. Some of us seem to see eye-to-eye on most things of common interest, while others hold widely divergent views. But those who differ with me are no less my brothers.

4. Fellowship is not a matter of knowledge.

One can enjoy the fellowship that is in Christ and be a grossly ignorant man, including an ignorance of the Bible. So it was in the primitive congregation, where they did not yet have the Bible. Surely many could not even read, being slaves and in poverty. But even the ignorant man can have faith and be in love, and it is this that made fellowship possible. Christ was their wisdom. They trusted Him and they loved each other. Paul was adamant with the Corinthians about the limitations of knowledge. It will fail when the pressures come, and so love is the gift to desire above all others.

We set up a standard of knowledge in our measure of the bounds of fellowship. One must understand certain things about the church, and certainly he must understand that baptism is for the remission of sins. It was not so with the early Christians. Baptism was an act of faith, not a matter of knowledge.

Surely we are urged to “grow in knowledge” and the knowledge of the Lord is a Christian virtue. But it is fellowship that makes such growth possible, and not the growth that makes the fellowship possible. A family may have a retarded child, but this in no wise threatens his sonship with the other children. God too has retarded children, many who will never be able to do much growing, but all such are no less our brothers in the Lord.

If the essence of fellowship is not any of these things, then what is it? The essence of fellowship is sharing the common life. There can be fellowship where there is disagreement, disapproval, ignorance, and differences in doctrine and opinion; but there can be no fellowship apart from sharing. Sharing gets to the heart of the meaning of koinonia, the Greek term for fellowship. The New English Bible has some beautiful renditions of the verses on fellowship. Notice how it uses the term sharing to express the idea:

“It is God himself who called you to share in the life of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord.” (1 Cor. 1:9)

“If then our common life in Christ yields anything to stir the heart, any loving consolation, any sharing of the Spirit, any warmth of affection or compassion, fill up my cup of happiness by thinking and feeling alike.” (Philip. 2:1-2)

(This verse is especially helpful in that it shows that the common life in Christ and the sharing of the Spirit must first be a reality, then can come some measure of thinking and feeling alike. We have it the other way around, that brethren must first think and feel alike about organs and societies, then can come the fellowship.)

“What we have seen and heard we declare to you, so that you and we together may share in a common life, that life which we share with the Father and his Son Jesus Christ.” (1 John 1:3)

“If we claim to be sharing in his life while we walk in the dark, our words and our lives are a lie; but if we walk in the light as he himself is in the light, then we share together a common life, and we are being cleansed from every sin by the blood of Jesus his Son.” (1 John 1:6-7)

“They met constantly to hear the apostles teach, and to share the common life, to break bread, and to pray.” (Acts 2:42)

It is evident enough that if all these years we had had access only to the likes of The New English Bible (and what a blessing that would have been!), we would never have been guilty of such talk as “We don’t fellowship the instrument,” or “We at Eastside don’t fellowship the Westside congregation.” Such talk makes fellowship mean endorsement or approval, which is not remotely related to the idea of koinonia. When the folk at Eastside are asked, “Do you share the common life in Christ with those at Westside?,” the answer may be different. The question is at least different. Eastside may disagree or disapprove of some things at Westside, but still share the common life with them.

So we suggest a moratorium on the use of the word fellowship, which does not even appear in The New English Bible. Let’s use “share the common life” instead. We’ll be more scriptural, and we’ll discard some bad habits. It is safe to assume that no one will be saying “I don’t share the common life with the instrument.”

This will do something else for us, for it will raise serious questions about whether we truly share the common life in Jesus with those we have been claiming “to fellowship.” If fellowship has been mainly a matter of endorsement, there may have been little real sharing. To agree on certain doctrines that make some particular party distinctive is one thing; to share together a life of hope, hardship, reprisals, and victory is something else. To sit together in a million dollar building, presumably believing everything alike, and listen to someone sermonize on the party line is not sharing the common life. Sharing the common life is being with the sick and distressed together, going to the ghetto together, joining efforts in a work of love. It is enjoying and loving Jesus together. It is weeping, laughing, and singing together. It is the joy of being with each other, for it is like being with Jesus himself.

So, to go back to the complaint of the existentialists, who tell us that we’re not really existing but only living, we might register our concern this way: We are not really sharing the common life, for we’re only “fellowshiping” one another.—the Editor