THE NATURE OF RESTORATION

For the next two years we will be studying the general theme of The Restoration Mind, after which it will be issued in book form, some 320 pages’ worth. This means that most of what we publish in the next twenty issues will be in reference to this theme, however indirectly. In the series in this column, however, we shall endeavor to speak explicitly of the nature of Restoration and the mind that espouses it.

Such is the mission of this first issue. It is our intention that each of the articles in some way identifies the Restoration mind. This is certainly the intention of the essay that draws heavily upon the poetry of Robert Frost (see A Lover’s Quarrel with the Church of Christ), which to a remarkable degree illustrates the Restoration spirit. A restorationist may not be a poet, but he is poetic in that he realizes that some of the more important truths are more subjective than objective, more “of the heart” than propositional. Every lover is a poet at heart, and religion is a love story.

The piece by the young psychologist, Amazing Guilt, Amazing Grace, deals with the sick soul burdened with guilt and no way out, except by grace. This is another way of identifying the healthy-minded religion of the restorationist. Even the report from Abilene serves our cause, for it is an example of how a people, long shut up to obscurantism, can open up its dead-end streets and allow traffic to move both ways without serious mishap.

Restoration has to do with returning a thing to its original character and purpose. The boyhood home of a dignitary is sometimes restored, which means that it is refurbished into what it was long ago. This, however, is only partial restoration, for quite obviously the house cannot be returned to the purpose it once had. It is a restoration in looks or appearance only. The restoration of primitive Christianity calls for a rerum to the character and purpose of the religion of Jesus Christ.

The restoration of a great piece of art better illustrates our point, such a work of art that may have been seriously damaged in the recent flood in Florence, Italy. Some priceless pieces were broken and covered with mud, discolored and corroded. Skilled hands have been at work for years in restoring them to their pristine beauty. It is not simply a matter of removing mud, but doing it in such a way as to do no injury to the painting. Each work of art has its own unique character, which must be safeguarded by the restoration efforts. Each has the purpose of conveying the mind of its creator and providing a thing of beauty and excellence to the beholder, which must not be lost in the task of returning to its original state.

This illustration points up an important truth about restoration, and that is the implication that the tihing to restored is still around, in essence at least. One might restore a damaged Rembrandt, but not one that has been washed out to sea and is completely lost. That the church has been “seriously damaged” through the centuries is true enough, but it has not become non-existent. It is not the church that is to be restored, certainly not in the sense of becoming reconstituted, as if it had passed from history and it is our task to get it started again.

The community of heaven has been a reality upon earth since the time our Lord declared: “Upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of death shall not prevail against it.” The church has been there all along, just as Jesus said it would. The true restorationist has no illusions about reestablishing the church. His task is rather to restore to the church deficiencies that have occurred through the centuries. Unity is one of these. Divisiveness has seriously threatened both the character and purpose of God’s assembly on earth. By nature the church is one (character) so that the world may be won (purpose). Jesus himself prayed: “May they all be one: as thou, Farther, art in me, and I in thee, so also may the be in us, that the world may believe that thou didst sent me.” The church divided is still the Lord’s church, but it is terribly deficient in regards to its true character and purpose. Still, it is unity that we are to restore to the church, and not the church itself that we are to restore. The difference is important.

The restoration mind recognizes that while Christians are fragmented into many sects and parties that the body of Christ is nonetheless a reality upon earth. The church is made up of all the redeemed ones, all those called of Fod through the gospel to be His own. They may be scattered throughout the vales and hills of sectdom, but still they are the church. The Baptist Church, the Methodist Church, or the Church of Christ may not be true churches of Jesus Christ, for His church is one. Perhaps they are sects, but they are sects within the broader framework of the church. This is to say that they are indeed the church, even though divided and fractured, in the sense that the body of Christ is amongst them. Any party that has a Christian in it is to that extent the church.

This is to say that the church is so badly torn and divided that the only semblance of objective reality it has is in the sects and parties of Christendom. In driving through any modern city one can see many evidences of the Christian religion, not only in the form of the many denominations that profess Christ, but also by the presence of schools, hospitals, and other institutions of mercy and goodwill. The restorationist: does not write all this off as naught, as if wholly divorced from the religion of Jesus Christ, even if he finds no form of religion that conforms to his notion of “the true church.” There is an important sense in which he can say, as he surveys the scene, the body of Christ is in this city. There may be work to do in making it all that Jesus intended, and that is the work of restoration, but still it is His church. There may be no party or parties in the city to which he can go and say this is the church, the true church of Christ. And yet he can be assured that the church is in the city. The various sects are not the church, but the church is in the various sects!

This places all the restoration movements, and there have been many, in proper perspective. No true restoration effort has its goal to restore the church, for this implies that it does not exist. The purpose is rather to restore to the church that already exists those qualities that will return it to the character and purpose intended by its Founder.

An automobile that lies damaged in a ditch, with its body crushed and its motor dislodged, may bear the name of Ford, and yet be a far cry from what its manufacturer and designer intended and remarkably different from what it was when it rolled off the assembly line in Detroit. It would be understandable for someone to say while looking at the mess in the ditch: “If that is what Ford puts out, then I don’t want one!” Someone would need to explain to him that what he sees in the ditch is not what Ford intended, and that with proper restoration the automobile will once again reflect the character and purpose of its maker. But it would be improper for someone to exclaim:

“That’s no Ford!” However wrecked it may be it is still a Ford. The only question is what might be done to repair the damage and return it to its pristine condition. The word pristine is especially useful in this context, for this gets at the task of restoration: to return to the original character and purpose. Once restored the car not only looks like a Ford once again, but it also functions like one.

The Lord’s church may also lie wrecked in scores of sectarian ditches, almost beyond the point of recognition. Still it is in some sense the Lord’s, even if like the Phoenix, that mythical bird of antiquity, its very decadence has within it the seeds of rebirth. Jesus talked this way about the church at Sardis. “You are dead,” he said to them. But he also said: “Wake up, and put some strength into what is left, which must otherwise die!” It is the “what is left” that gives the restorationist his hope, whether in an almost unrecognizable Rembrandt, a wrecked car, or a decadent church.

After all, Jesus did write “to the angel of the church at Sardis.” He called it the church. “Yet you have a few persons in Sardis who have not polluted their clothing,” he pointed to as “what is left.”

Wherever we are, whatever congregation, the Lord gives each of us as restorationists something to work with. Out of decadence he can bring life, if we will let him use us.

Unity is basic to all our tasks of restoration, for a divided church cannot win a divided world. The very nature and function of the church is dependent upon our healing the wounds of division. But this is not, to be sure, our only problem.

There is the question of social responsibility, the church’s task in reference to injustice and suffering. There is the church’s ministry to its own members, its responsibility to edify itself. There are its institutions. baptism and the Lord’s Supper in particular. There is the morality of its members or the ethics of God’s community. There are its structural forms, if any, such as organization, work, worship.

All these concern us in tracing out the restoration mind. The authenticity of the church is challenged today more than ever before in its history. It is fighting for its life in modern culture, the “institutional church” is at least. That poses still another question: is the “institutional church” the church? Future installments of this series have many obligations, but we will be especially concerned with the individual’s responsibility to the status quo.

Many are burdened with the presumptions of modern religion. They are disillusioned by the superficialities of the system and its leaders. They are starved for meaning, relevance, and excitement. They long to be “turned on” to the reality of Jesus. They want the joyous hope of the early Christians. their resources of power, their spontaneity. They are tired of being dead. “Going to church” is a bore, being a spectator instead of a participant is debilitating.

The restoration mind is a responsive mind. It seeks answers by seeking truth, the truth of Jesus. We hope in this extended series to help the individual restorationist to better understand his task and to provide him some light in his plight as part of modern religion. --- the Editor