The New Humanity . . .
THE
NEW JERUSALEM
The
heavenly Jerusalem is the free woman; she is our mother. Gal.
4:26
This
is the only place in scripture where the mother of the Christian is
clearly identified. God is our father, to be sure, as the Bible often
reminds us; but it is only in this line from Paul’s pen that we
are told about our mother, thus completing the family imagery.
Brothers and sisters are to be aware of their mother as well as their
father, and it is here that our mother is identified as “the
Jerusalem which is above.”
The
symbolism of mother is common to scripture. Jeremiah refers to
Babylon when he says: “But your mother is covered with shame,
disgraced is the woman who bore you” (Jer. 50:12). Psalms 87
hails Zion as the mother of nations. Ezekiel, convinced of the
validity of the proverb “Like mother, like daughter,”
condemns the idolatry of Israel by saying that her mother was a
Hittite. Hosea refers to God’s destruction of Jerusalem in such
terms as “I will destroy your mother” (Hosea 4:5).
What
is important to Paul in the figure of motherhood is that the disciple
of Christ is the son of the free woman. To him this is the new
Jerusalem as contrasted with “the present Jerusalem,”
which represents the old covenant with all its bondage. In the
allegory Hagar, the slave girl, represents law and slavery, while
Sarah, the free woman, stands for grace and freedom. This makes the
old Jerusalem the mother of those bound by law, while the New
Jerusalem is the mother of those born of the Spirit. So the New
Jerusalem to Paul is the New Covenant, which is not written upon
tables of stone, but engraved upon the heart of man. This is not to
say that the New Covenant scriptures are our mother, which is not to
be confused with the New Covenant itself. It is rather “the
gospel of the grace of God” that bears us unto a new life and
is the mother of us all.
It
would, therefore, be inappropriate for any of us to pick up a book
and say, “This is my mother,” for people were born of the
Spirit and in Christ before there was ever such a book. We should
rather point to a baby as embodying “the grace of God that has
appeared to all men” and to the gospel that he gave to the
world as our mother. If it is the person of God who is our father, it
is the gospel of God that is our mother. This is the New Covenant
that makes brothers and sisters of all who are in Christ. This is the
New Jerusalem that is our mother, and the “our”
should be emphasized, for Paul’s point is that Hagar is their
mother while the free woman is our mother.
It
is important that we see that Paul is not talking about two laws
in this allegory. It is not that Jesus nailed the old law to his
cross only to turn around and give us another law in its place. It is
not a better law that is our mother. It is grace and not law
at all that is our mother. Paul is talking about two women, one
of whom represents law (not just the Mosaic law, but any system of
law) and the other represents grace. When he says “Cast out the
slave girl and her son,” he is telling us that if we choose law
for our mother we will most certainly be children of bondage. It is
noteworthy that in assuring us that we are sons of the free woman and
not the slave girl that he goes on to say “It is for this
freedom that Christ has set us free.”
This
allegory and the reference to the New Jerusalem is as relevant to us
as today’s newspaper, for most of the problems in our
congregations, if not also in our personal lives, is our failure to
be free people in Jesus and thus accept “the Jerusalem that is
above” as our mother. Our carnal nature beckons us to
law-keeping. Our pride drives us to legalism. It is only the poor in
spirit that accepts his inability to merit salvation and to rely upon
God’s grace. Much of our worry and frustration is based upon
our struggle with law, which is a slavish yoke upon our backs. Only
when we stand before God as free people in Christ, liberated from men
and their demands, do we see the New Jerusalem as our mother.
So
Ezekiel’s proverb “Like mother, like daughter” is
appropriate to us too. If we make our own interpretations and
opinions into laws, demanding that others submit to them if they are
to be “fellowshipped,” then we can be expected to behave
as children of the slave girl. We will be uneasy around people who do
not agree with us on all the preferred doctrines. They will be there
and we will be here, and there will be no communication,
and brotherhood will have lost all meaning. We will tithe our “mint,
anise and cummin” and be negligent of the things that matter
most. We will stifle growth in ourselves and others through fear of
new ideas and by discouraging diversity of viewpoint.
Paul
includes another important truth in the allegory of the Jerusalems,
and that is that the children of the slave girl can be counted on
always to persecute the children of the free woman. It seems never to
fail. Regardless of the church (or most any institution for that
matter), whenever a man takes his stand for freedom and is no longer
willing to uphold the sectarian demands of partyism, resolving to
receive all God’s people equally as his brothers, he is
going to be persecuted. That is what the apostle is saying: “But
just as in those days the natural-born son persecuted the spiritual
son, so it is today.” So long as a brother is true to Hagar as
his mother, being a “good member,” he can be, and often
is, everything from lukewarm to worldly and still be in good
standing. But let him turn to Sarah as his mother (“Christ set
us free to be free men”), and start be having as a free man
instead of a party man, and every little thing he ever did, as well
as things he never did, will be remembered against him.
There
is a denomination known as “The Church of the New Jerusalem,”
started by that mystic, Emanuel Swedenborg. I would that our own
Churches of Christ could truly be congregations of the New Jerusalem.
Too often we behave as if the old Jerusalem had borne us. Frequently
these days I am witness to some brother’s struggle to be a free
man, or it may be an assembly’s determination to test the
validity of that myth called congregational autonomy. It is nearly
always the same old story. Men are either labeled with some stigma,
or they are fired, or they are written up. Congregations are isolated
by “the main line” and branded as unsound or
liberal. Effort is made to destroy the dissenter economically.
The “loyal churches” will pull away as many members as
possible from the assembly that dares to be different. And noted
evangelists, who know how to get along, will not conduct meetings for
them. What a loss that is! So autonomous are we that if a church
chooses to go its own way it is destined to be destroyed, if
possible, by the keepers of orthodoxy.
So
long as this condition exists our mother is not the New Jerusalem,
but rather the old. It is Ishmael persecuting Isaac all over again.
It is the flesh against the spirit, the old against the new, the
slave against the free. We will be the church of the New Jerusalem
only as we are free enough to allow each other and our various
congregations to be our own unique selves in Christ Jesus. Sarah is
our mother when we are so liberated from the law and partyism that we
can, because of God’s grace toward us, allow our brother to be
different from ourselves. Hagar has borne us along enough. Let’s
cast out the slave girl and her son and be children of the free
woman!
This
is what Heb. 12:22 is urging upon us, in another reference to the New
Jerusalem. In contrast to that religion that caused Moses to say “I
shudder with fear” is that which brings man into communion with
God through the person of Jesus Christ. “You stand before Mount
Zion,” we are assured, “and the city of the living God,
heavenly Jerusalem.” He observes that the Christian comes to
Jesus and the New Covenant, to grace and freedom, not to law and
works.
In
Rev. 21 John sees all this and even more in his description of the
New Jerusalem that comes down out of heaven from God. Admittedly it
sounds like a description of heaven, which is the common
interpretation, but this can hardly be since verse 24 tells of how
pagan kings of earth will live by its light and how they will be
influenced by its spirituality. Or one might say, as do the compilers
of The Jerusalem Bible, that chapter 21:1-8 is a description
of heaven, while 21:9-27 is “the messianic Jerusalem” on
earth in the end-time.
For
our purposes here it is enough to say that John, in drawing upon the
imagery in Ezekiel, is describing the institution of the New
Covenant, the people of grace (it is people, not a place that
he describes), in its ultimate glory both on earth and in heaven. If
it is easy to confuse heaven and earth in reading of John’s New
Jerusalem, let it remind us of how much heaven there can be in our
earthly experiences if we will but choose heaven over hell.
When
the Spirit fills us with holiness and goodness, his holiness and
goodness, and when we are a united, loving, happy people, filled with
the knowledge of God and rejoicing in hope, we will indeed be the New
Jerusalem on earth, “a foretaste of glory divine.”
“He
will wipe away all tears from their eyes; there will be no more
death, and no more mourning or sadness. The world of the past has
gone.”
Such richness of blessings can be and should be now as well as then. It is by being of Hagar that we cause each other to weep and make the church a place of fear and hate. A Spirit-filled, free people will so love each other as to wipe away all tears and to count death only as an open door to greater joys. In Christ the old world is gone. The best of earth as well as heaven is for God’s people, the New Humanity.—the Editor