THE UNDERBELLY OF THE CHURCH

I have more than common interest in a letter that has come to me indirectly from Sweden. It has to do with a person’s disappointment that his friend, who happens to be a friend of mine as well, was not made the next archbishop of Sweden. The reader may not realize that the Church of Sweden (Lutheran) is the state church of that country, even though the “free churches,” as they are called, are completely free to practice their religion. Being a state church it is understandable that the Church of Sweden would be as politically-oriented as other churches.

Our mutual friend was on the verge of receiving the appointment, it seems, but was cut down at the last moment by some contrivance. This concerned leader in the Swedish church expressed his anguish in these words:

He was gunned down at the last minute, so to speak, and I saw the underbelly of the church at close range. It’s not a pretty sight I’ve seen it before, but this time it really got to me. Broke my spirit, took my Jesus. But I’m back, hit the library and the NT hit me. And the church, that leprous bride of Christ, has claimed me again. What can I say, I’m a sucker for a beautiful dame.

Coming from such a different background from most of us, this brother’s language may be so strange to us that we may miss what I believe to be both a realistic and meaningful concept of the church catholic. We may even be offended by such language as “the underbelly of the church” and “that leprous bride of Christ,” and we are not used to folk referring to the church as “a beautiful dame.” He also depicts his trauma with “Broke my spirit, took my Jesus,” and not many of us talk that way, not even when we have similar experiences. But church politics we know, state church or not, and I am persuaded that we have a lot in common with this troubled Swede. If not, we ought to have!

By “the underbelly of the church” we take him to mean “those who are somewhat,” the power structure, the nerve center where the decisions are made. As an “insider” he has been there often, but this time he had a ringside seat and got a good look, and he found it an ugly sight, even if it was made up of high clergy and top statesmen. He saw that wrong ruled the throne and that right did not prevail. He was referring to the sinfulness of the church: its arrogant power and its manipulative tactics. He watched as they “shot down” our deserving friend, who was a professor to me at Harvard.

We do not have to be a state church to get the picture, and we well know that we are equally guilty. Many of our preachers have been devastated by a tyrannical eldership, and our preachers have been known to destroy each other. Our most creative, spiritual, and intelligent members are often forced to find refuge in other churches for no greater sin than choosing to think for themselves. It is probable that our underbelly is as ugly as the Swedish church, and those of us who would like to change it are not likely to fair any better than our Swedish friend.

If our friend would say that the sad experience “took my Jesus,” we conclude that his faith was affected only temporarily. He snapped back, probably because his faith is in the Person rather than the institution. He seems to have the order straight, Jesus first, then the church.

The man is a reformer at heart. He would make a good “Campbellite,” for he sees that however remiss the church becomes, “that leprous bride of Christ,” it is still Christ’s church. He would no doubt tell us, as did our pioneers, that the church always needs reforming and that reformation is a slow process. And you can tell that while his frame of reference is his own denomination he thinks in terms of the church universal. She has a claim on him. He can’t give her up, just as Jesus can’t, and so he reported in with “I’m back.” Where else can one go? Where is the perfect church. If there wasn’t one in New Testament times, there isn’t likely to be at any time.

Our friend is where we all are, a part of the leprous bride of Christ. The offensive adjective is not all that different from the ones Jesus himself used: poor, blind, destitute, naked, dead, lukewarm. But Jesus did not leave. He stands knocking at the door of his own church --- at the underbelly? --- seeking entrance. But our Swedish brother seems to grasp the whole of things better than we. We often give up because we don’t understand the true nature of the church, while he hangs in because he does.

There is heavy theology in that line “I’m a sucker for a beautiful dame. “ We love the church because it bears the image of Christ, in spite of (or perhaps because of) its humanity. We are fallen beings, but we are redeemed fallen beings. We are no longer simply sinners like the rest of mankind, but sinners saved by grace. But still it is sinners that make up the church, and so the underbelly will not always be attractive. We hold “the beauty of holiness” as an ideal, exemplified in Christ, but hardly ever attained by the church.

I can identify with our chastened Swedish friend. While that part of “the beautiful dame” that I know best is Churches of Christ and Christian Churches rather than the Church of Sweden, I too am stuck and cannot and will not leave. I may quarrel with her but it is a lover’s quarrel. And she is beautiful to me because she is like Jesus, despite an unkempt underbelly.

After all, many a man has found refuge in the bosom of a woman with dirty linen. He who sits upon the throne promises to make all things new and clean in a new heaven and a new earth. That hope is enough for me. Until then I will go on urging that beautiful dame to open the door to the beckoning Christ. --- the Editor