The Word Abused . . .

THE SUNDAY MORNING RIP-OFF

If by means of a time-tunnel we could be transposed to an assembly of the primitive saints, such as a gathering of the Church of Christ in Thessalonica or Philippi, we would likely be in for the shock of our lives. The contrast between what they believed and practiced over against the typical “Church of Christ” of this generation would be bolder than a crack of thunder out of a clear sky. If those early congregations form a pattern for the way we should be, we have done a poor job in following it. In no way have we abused the scriptures so grossly than in our claim that we are a true representation of the primitive church “in name, organization, doctrine and practice.” The Sunday morning assembly especially illustrates this abuse of the scriptures. We can only conclude that it is a ripoff, being hardly a faint likeness of what it claims to emulate. Moreover, it is in some instances a rank denial of what the scriptures reveal as crucial in the corporate worship of the early church.

The list of things that would appear strange to us in primitive worship is extensive. Some of the primitive congregations had a love feast in connection with the Supper (1 Cor. 14:21, 33; Jude 12), and the “lifting up of holy hands” must have been common (1 Tim. 2:8). There was also the “laying on of hands” for several purposes (Acts 13:3; 1 Tim. 5:22). The cry “Maranatha, Come, Lord Jesus!” was often prayed in the assemblies (1 Cor. 16:22; Rev. 22:20), and it must have been common for them to speak out and say Amen! to the prayers (1 Cor. 14:16). There were at least some who spoke in tongues (1 Cor. 14:27) and they were instructed to call for the elders to pray and anoint them with oil when seriously ill (Jas. 5:14).

Some of the sisters prayed and prophesied in the assembly with their heads covered (1 Cor. 11:5) and some of them served as deacons (Ro. 16:1; 1 Tim. 3:8-13). They confessed their sins to one another (J as. 5:14) and they sometimes greeted each other with a holy kiss (1 Thess. 5:26; Rom. 16:16). Their assemblies were more spontaneous than structured, and they all shared in building each other up (Eph. 4:16). They owned no property, met mostly in homes, and were often persecuted to the point that they assembled in secret. They were ever conscious of the power of the Holy Spirit (1 Thess. I:5), prayed in the Spirit (Eph. 6:18), were filled with the Spirit (Eph. 5:18), and drank of the Spirit (1 Cor. 12:13). Their assemblies were such that sinners were likely to bow down, seeing that God was indeed among them (1 Cor. 14:25). They probably knelt in prayer to the Father (Eph. 3:14), and perhaps sometimes they stood, but almost certainly they never sat. I agree with Prof. Metzger at Princeton that sitting in prayer before the God of heaven is an innovation of the modern church, that all through its early history the church always knelt or stood.

If all this would not be startling enough to a 20th century church member. there would surely be missing a great deal of what he would expect to see, supposing as he does that the primitive congregations must have been “the spittin’ image” of the churches he knows in Texas and Tennessee. They would, for instance, be completely unaware of any “five acts of worship” that we talk about. They would see worship in terms of the whole of their life in God and not as a series of acts in their meetings (Ro. 12:1). Some of the “acts” that we count off would very likely not even be evident. There was almost certainly nothing like our “Sunday morning offering” and probably no collection at all in the assemblies, except perhaps occasional gestures toward the poor —though it cannot be proved that this was done “at church.” The collection in 1 Cor. 16:2 was provisional, which means that they had not been doing this before Paul asked them to and probably did not continue it after he came and took the money away. It was for a special emergency. Besides, it was laid aside at home, not in the assembly, as most every Greek scholar will point out.

There was probably no congregational singing as we practice it, if at all, though they may have chanted to each other antiphonally (back and forth), as an early historian indicates. They did have solos, for any brother that “hath a hymn” was encouraged to sing it (1 Cor. 14:26). None of the scriptures about singing are related per se to the assembly, but to the personal life of the believer, and they call for “addressing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs,” which is hardly a description of congregational singing. So, if we can’t establish congregational singing, we cannot establish a musical accompaniment. It is likely, however, that if a brother in the early church chose to “sing a psalm” (Col. 3:16), he might well have used one of the many instruments available in that day, especially if he were a Jewish believer, for a psalm to him meant playing as well as singing. The Selahs in the Psalms were probably the cue for a musical interlude. The Jewish brother, if not the Gentile, would be inclined to “Praise him with trumpet sound; praise him with lute and harp!” as Psa. 150 would instruct him. So, in giving his psalm to you in either his home or at the assembly he would likely accompany it or intersperse it with melodious touches of the harp or the gentle sounds of a lute. I realize that this would deeply distress our visitor from Fifth and Izzard in Dallas, but he might find himself enraptured in the Spirit in spite of himself. He might even fall down and worship, seeing that God is indeed among them, harp or no harp!

Conspicuously absent would be “the minister” or “the pastor,” a position that we have taken more from our religious neighbors than from the scriptures. The primitive churches were nourished by the elders or shepherds of the flock (Acts 20:28), while evangelists were out breaking new ground for the Lord. The believers were generally knowledgeable and able to teach each other (Ro. 15:14), and so in the assemblies they mutually edified one another (1 Pet. 4:9-11). Paul could say to the Corinthians (14:26), When you come together each one has a lesson. Not so in our assemblies. A brother may share with the Masons, the Elks, the Lions, and the Alcoholics Anonymous, but in the assembly of saints he has to be a spectator, however meaningful a lesson he may have. He is victimized by the Sunday morning rip-off.

The modern saint might also be made uncomfortable by the crude simplicity of primitive worship. He might be sandwiched in between smelly fishermen, fresh from their nets, or slaves just in from the fields, smelling no better (Jas. 2:2). He might be seated, not in a cushioned pew in an air-conditioned edifice, but on the damp floor of a catacomb, buried away from the searching eyes of Roman authorities. On more propitious occasions it would be in some believer’s humble abode, where the less poor would gather with their destitute brothers in the Lord, some of whom were owned by other men, spread out their nap sacks in a love feast and break bread in the name of him “who was rich, but became poor, so that they might be rich.”

Still later as the rich and the noble accepted the faith they had more comfortable and commodious homes in which to gather (Philemon 2), and they periodically had the protection of the law. But it was two centuries before they bought property and went into the real estate business —and into apostasy! With all this came the clergy and the seminary to educate them, which the historian Moshein describes as “the grave of primitive Christianity.” Soon we had “our image” to think about, and with the passing centuries we came to think in terms of million dollar edifices. And so came the Sunday morning rip-off. The claim that we are that church that we read about in the New Testament, and that in our life and worship we duplicate what they were and what they did, is the biggest counterfeit in human history. We are duped into believing the grand clerical lie, that we —and only we are the New Testament church. It is a colossal rip-off.

We are hamstrung by buildings, real estate, pews, pulpits, clergy, treasuries, and budgets. Our leaders have to monitor what is said in the assembly lest a tradition be challenged or a sister church be offended. We scringe if a brother lifts his hands in prayer or speaks in a tongue, and we would be shocked at the cry of Maranatha. And of course Amens and praise the Lord! are off limits. We have our image to think about and the buildings to pay for. We sit —believe it, many of our churches sit —in prayer to the King of the Universe, even with our knees still crossed, while the humblest monarch of earth is never approached by one of his subjects with such passivity. We count our worship in terms of “acts” and watch the clock to make sure it ends on time. We “go to worship” and “leave worship,” as if it were something that can be turned off and on. We employ all the modern gadgetry we want, whether multiple cups for the Supper, the Sunday School, the pulpit and the professional staff that goes with it, budgets and sub budgets, auxiliary institutions of all sorts, agencies and societies —all this and more, and yet we manage to find “prooftexts” that all we do is after the ancient, apostolic order. We are impatient with those who object to what we do, labeling them hobbyists, while at the same time we draw the line of fellowship on those who practice what we oppose, calling them heretics. Our arrogance reaches the point to where we can drive by an edifice marked “Church of Christ” and be satisfied that it is one more New Testament church in name, organization, doctrine and practice; but if it be a Christian Church or a Baptist Church, we can only regret that they haven’t accepted “the truth” like we have and are not just like us. It turns the unity plea that began with the Campbells into a call for conformity. Simply be like us! That is the only answer anybody needs for the age-old problem of a divided church!

I am not saying that we must do precisely as the primitive saints did, even if we could lift from the records an exact picture. I do not accept the view of patternism. If God intended this, he would have given us a more detailed outline of procedures. I do not believe that we have to meet in catacombs or private homes like they did. I believe we may have congregational singing, a budget and a treasury, and even a professional staff (so long as it allows for Body ministry), even though they probably had none of these things. I believe we can be the Body of Christ in this world whether we have the organ or not, whether we have Sunday Schools or not, or whether we have this or that movement or this or that agency or supporting church or not. There must be value in lifting holy hands, fasting, washing the saints’ feet, the holy kiss, speaking in tongues, and the Maranatha or they would not find expression in the life of the early church. But I do not conclude that these are necessary for us, even if they do prove to be useful to some.

My plea is that we recognize what is essential and that we unite on that basis. That we be the Body of Christ is essential, holding to the one faith, the one Lord, the one baptism. It is essential that we meet in the name of Christ and break bread within his fellowship, encouraging and edifying one another. We are all to go to the scriptures in search of those norms that will direct our life and worship. We will differ in our interpretation of the information we have. Some will choose to meet in homes and not own a church edifice. Some will elect to have instrumental music while others will remain a capella. Some will form agencies for mission work and some will prefer direct support, while still others will be content to do nothing. In spite of such differences we can all be the Body of Christ together, united in essentials.

The rip-off comes when any of us presume to be the church to the exclusion of all other believers. We are only playing the counterfeit role when we claim to be the exact reproduction of the primitive church at work and worship, when in fact we take as many liberties with what is actually in the scriptures as the next people. No group today is the New Testament church in the sense that it is an exact likeness of what the scriptures reveal —if for no other reason because the scriptures yield no one, composite picture of what that church was. We all choose what we like, and then reject the other fellow because he selects things that we neglect. We can and must recover what is catholic or universal —that which is necessary for all time and in all places to be the Body of Christ. This “faith of our fathers” we can have even while sitting in cushioned pews and luxurious buildings, even if such things are often obstacles. To bear the likeness of Jesus and to grow in him, being filled with his Spirit, is a universal. To worship him in the fellowship of the saints around the Supper is a universal. The seven unities of Eph. 4 are universals. But whether a brother speaks in tongues, fasts twice a week, tithes, or has a piano at his church is not a matter of the catholic faith.

We have been taken, been “had,” when we allow ourselves to be duped into believing what Dr. Robert Richardson, that grand old pioneer of the Restoration Movement, calls “the fallacy of synecdoche,” which is to presume that only a part is the whole. Surely we do not have to believe that the kingdom of God begins and ends with us, that as we sit in the assembly that we, and only we, reflect the faith of the primitive believers. It should be enough for us to be a part (not party) of the great Church of God on earth, however bruised it may be by the scourge of division.

When I sit with the saints on Sunday morning in a typical “Church of Christ,” my view of things is rather simple. These too are God’s people, I say to myself, they are my brothers and sisters and I love them. But in saying that I realize that God also has some children at the other churches in town, not because they’re Methodists or Baptists, but because they too have been saved by “the bath of regeneration and the renewing of the Holy Spirit” (Tit. 3:5). Even if I am non-instrumental music by preference, I realize that the kingdom of God does not consist of such matters. And I allow no one to deceive me into believing that “we have restored the primitive church” in the way we worship. I would have to smile at that, for in a lot of ways I know we haven’t, and that others have done better at this in some areas than we have.

But we are immersed believers. We do look to Jesus, more or less, and we believe in bearing his likeness. We break bread together, and to the extent that I am allowed I share in the building up of the church. If we can’t go home to be with the Lord from “sectarian” churches, then hardly anyone will go, for this is the condition of the Christian world. But this does not mean that I personally have to be a sectarian, and I see no point in moving from one party to another party. I rather see a need to remain where the Lord has dropped me down (What a distinctive blessing it was to be born into the right church!) and to work and pray for the oneness of all believers, based upon catholic principles rather than upon particular opinions.

And I have no intention of that goal being misdirected by falling prey to the Sunday morning rip-off. Six times or so the New Covenant scriptures warn us about being deceived. We do well to take heed. —the Editor