Restoration Review: Leroy Garrett, Editor

Adventures of the Early Church . . .

JESUS SEEKS ENTRANCE TO HIS OWN CHURCH

Behold, I stand at the door and knock. — Rev. 3:20

One of the mysteries in the story of primitive Christianity is that Jesus of Nazareth, the hero of the story, was summarily rejected by his own people and his own church. A case could be made for his being accepted more by the world, the sinners and the outcasts, than by his spiritual family. Even more remarkable is that he seemed to have been more comfortable with lepers, tax collectors, foreigners, women and children, all of whom were more or less nobodies to the “somewhats,” than he was with “proper” church folk.

Jesus remains an enigma even to the church, especially to the church, for the world appears to be less threatened by him. Jesus was not a “churchman” and it is doubtful that he ever intended what we now call “the church.” He did not preach sermons and never conducted a church service, not even when his appearance before various synagogues is considered. While he often prayed, he never led a church in prayer. While he often chanted “the songs of Zion” both at home and in the synagogue, he never “led the singing” for a congregation. He never baptized anyone with his own hands. He never served “the Lord’s supper,” nor did he ever “institute” such. He rather shared in a passover feast, and as 1 Cor, 11:23 puts it, “In the night that he was betrayed he took bread” and gave it special meaning. They then had a feast together, after which he took a cup (probably the third cup of the passover celebration) and told them that it was “the new covenant in my blood,” strange words indeed.

Had we been watching we could never have recognized it as anything like what we do on Sunday. If a reporter from the 20th century church had asked him if he had just “instituted” the Lord’s supper, Jesus could only have been puzzled by such a question. He was a Jew, indeed the Jewish messiah, and he was once more celebrating the passover with his disciples, but this time he did something different with some of the usual things on the passover table. When he took the unleavened cakes that reminded them of the austerity of their past and said, “Take and eat, this is my body,” they were probably as puzzled as they were when he told them of his impending death and resurrection. They were so very human and naive. Even that very night they were arguing among themselves as to who was the most important, and they were jockeying for the best seats at the table.

This indicates that even his own disciples rejected him, even if it was unintentional. They seemed incapable of understanding him, as with Peter, who that same night was reluctant to submit to footwashing at the hands of his master. Jesus now and again said to them the likes of “Then are you also without understanding?” (Mk. 7:18). And Mark states plainly that they simply did not understand Jesus and that “their hearts were hardened” (Mk. 6:52). And where were they when he was arrested and taken away to be crucified? He was betrayed, denied, and forsaken even by his own disciples.

The story of Jesus of Nazareth is a story of rejection. It could be argued that from the beginning until now that even the church has rejected the One that God sent as the Savior of the world. He has always stood on the outside of his own church, seeking what has really never been his, an intimate fellowship with those who profess to follow him. Behold, I stand at the door and knock is an invitation not to the world but to his own church. It is shocking to realize that the church was there, doing lots of things, but the Christ was excluded, standing at the door seeking entrance. As with all those seven churches in Revelation, the picture represents the church through the ages. Even the church has failed to understand him and to accept him.

The church has rejected Jesus in its exclusivism from the world. He intended that we be the salt of the earth and the light of the world, which means we are to be in the world, not only permeating it like leaven but overcoming it with goodness. The church actually fears a Jesus that moved with ease among society’s untouchables. We are intimidated by the fact that Jesus would be more at home on a hippie pad or an inner-city street corner than with us in our cushioned pews and elegant pulpits. Jesus lived, served, and died in the world, while we distance ourselves from the world. Our church edifices are ghettoes for our exclusivism rather than halfway houses for suffering humanity. With all our real estate, our programs, our budgets, our “five acts of worship” meticulously executed, it is well to ask Where is Jesus?

The church has rejected him in its sectarianism and parochialism. Jesus came to his own sect, the Jewish cult, and that sect rejected him, as Jn. 1:11 indicates: “He came to his own and his own received him not.” His own cult might have accepted him, as they would have any resourceful rabbi, if he could have accommodated his “new wine” to their old wine skins. Their system had to be preserved, and it was his demand for new wine skins (a spirit of catholicity) that led to his rejection. Jesus was catholic but his cult was parochial, and like the Jews of his day the church has been sectarian, rejecting the catholic spirit of Jesus. While the church pins on labels, Jesus ignored labels. While the church says, as did Jesus’ disciples, “We rejected the one who was casting out demons in your name because he was not of us,” Jesus insisted on acceptance, noting that “He who is not against us is for us.” (Lk. 9:49-50)

The church has rejected Jesus in the distinctions it makes in race, sex, and culture. All around the world the church is still largely racial, and that in countries that are yet oppressed by racial barriers. Cultural lines run deep, even in the western world. While Jesus was an integrationist, even to the point of “He reached out and touched the leper,” which must be one of the great lines in the New Testament, the church is segregationist. It may be a benign segregation but segregation nonetheless. The church remains white and black, and the whites do not reach out and touch the blacks. The church is also mostly male-dominated. In most churches a 12-year old boy, if baptized, has more rights than any woman in the congregation, including the sister who is a corporate executive or the one who lectures at a nearby university. Women are almost never consulted in the decision making process. In Jesus’ church they hold second-class membership, while Jesus himself not only ministered alongside women but selected one of them as the very first envoy of the good news, as Jn. 20:17-18 indicates.

The church has rejected Jesus in the values it has chosen rather than the one great value of the spirit of Jesus Christ. A minister is hired and elders are selected in terms of their ability to manage the program, meet the budget, and satisfy the membership rather than for their ability to communicate the spirit of Christ. Indeed, the modern church as well as the ancient one finds the spirit of Christ scandalous. The one who washed the feet of sinful men, associated with the dregs of society, and forgave those who abused him stands as a stranger at our door. Even the New Testament documents seem incapable of portraying the full glory of the spirit of Christ. One passage assures us that a world full of books could not tell the story (Jn. 21:25), while another tells us that it surpasses all our efforts to communicate (Eph. 3:19-20), and yet another reminds us that we look through a glass darkly (1 Cor. 13:12). We preserve the values of institutional religion while we obstruct the free spirit of Christ, along with love, joy, peace, forgiveness, and forbearance.

“Be like Jesus” is an ideal we sing about and talk about, but no party really wants this of its members. The church has not only rejected Jesus, leaving him at the door knocking, but it has always rejected the spirit of Jesus in whomever it might appear. This is evident whenever one’s love transcends the party and reaches out to others as equals. “Be like Jesus” means be a good Mormon, a good Mennonite, or a good Methodist. It is much more serious to question a sect’s prophecies or its position on baptism than to be unloving or unforgiving.

The good news in all this is not only that Jesus is always there, no farther away than the front door, but there is always those precious few that open their hearts to the imploring Christ. Never forget the remnant! Throughout salvation history there has been the faithful remnant, as in Isaiah’s time: “If the Lord of hosts had not left for us a remnant, we should have been like Sodom and Gomorrah” (Isa 1:9). The remnant is always there, including some in those seven churches of Asia in Revelation, as fallen as they were.

Perhaps it is the remnant in all the denominations that is the true church, those who open the door and invite Jesus in. And the Lord is the Gentleman of gentlemen as well as the Lord of lords. He will not barge in and impose himself. In his case the latch is on the inside. We are to open the door of our hearts and welcome him in for that loving and meaningful fellowship that only he can give.

More good news is that even in an erring church (Is there any other kind?) the least of the sisters or brothers can open the door to Jesus. “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me,” says the beseeching Christ. The pope or the bishop does not have to open the door, not even the elders or the minister or the program committee. If anyone will open . . . It is the great invitation and it is to his own church, to anyone in that church.

It may be that even in a large church Jesus is there because of the few who really seek to make their heart his hearth. And that may answer the oft-asked question, When does a church cease to be Jesus’ church? When there is no one there that hears his voice and no one who will open the door and invite him Jn. He may eventually turn away and knock no more. But more good news is that he is our longsuffering Lord. So much so that he may accept things in the institutional church that he never intended, so long as there is some concern for the spirit of Christ.

And it is those who are concerned for the spirit of Christ who hear the knock at the door. There is no question about his faithfulness, for he is always there at the threshold of our hearts and lives, waiting for us. It is our faithfulness that is in question. The ball is in our court. — the Editor.