The Hope of the Believer . . .

THE CHURCH AS A HALFWAY HOUSE  

As an editor I often learn more from my readers than they learn from me. This was the case in some of the responses I received from my article in last month's issue about the gay church. Some were outraged at the idea of a gay church, as if the church is made up of only the nice and proper. Others left the impression that they consider homosexual sins as not only more serious than heterosexual sins but as the most grievous of sins. I got the distinct impression from some readers that they see the church as made up of righteous people, not of "sinners saved by grace," as we have historically claimed, even if lamely.

This challenges a view of the church I have long held, that it is a community of believers who realize that they are sinners in need of God's grace. They are not good; they only seek to be good; they are not righteous; they only hunger for righteousness. I like the imagery of the church as a halfway house, which Webster defines as "a place where persons are aided in readjusting to society following a period of imprisonment, hospitalization, etc." To make that a good description of the task of the church we might add, "and to help restore them to communion with God and the fellowship of believers."

Other imageries from modern society might be to think of the church as a hospital for those sick with sin or as a refugee camp for weary, erring displaced persons. The church is not a country club of well people who are self-sufficient and in need of nothing. It is not a Fifth Ave. establishment that has everything going its way.

If the church is made up of "righteous" folk, then it comes under the judgment of Christ himself who spoke a parable to those "who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others" (Lk. 18:9). In that parable Jesus recognized the man as righteous who realized he was not righteous, but who humbly prayed, "God, be merciful to me a sinner." The unrighteous man, according to Jesus, was the one who claimed to be righteous! He was the one who was thankful that he was not like those awful sinners out there! I am concerned for my sisters and brothers who appear to be more like the self-righteous Pharisee than the self-denigrating publican. The lowly publican was so conscious of his own sins that he was blind to the sins of the Pharisee. Jesus was impressed, concluding that he went down to his house "righteous" rather than the "religious" guy.

Or we might think of the church as made up of "wrestlers with sin," to use the imagery in Heb. 12:4, which is one of the great neglected passages: "You have not yet resisted unto bloodshed, striving against sin." We have not yet overcome sin; we have not left it behind. We continue to strive against it, both in our personal lives and in the world. The church is in a crucible with sin, a wrestling contest. A wrestling match may not be a pleasant experience. It involves pain, discipline, hardship. It is a fight to the finish with a fierce opponent. We are in a war with all the crafty devices of Satan. The church is not a social club or a theatre of spectators where those present relax themselves on "flowery beds of ease." We are all in a war together, helping each other in the struggle against sin.

The best illustration of what I am saying is not any church that I know, but the Alcoholics Anonymous, whose meetings I have also visited. Each one readily admits that he is a drunk and in need of help. No one has it made; no one is untainted. It is remarkable how in their mutual sharing each one begins his testimony by saying, "My name is such and such and I am an alcoholic." Even if one has been sober for years, he still sees himself as a drunk. This is the secret of their success: they are all in it together. They accept each other unconditionally; they are not judgmental, not even when one turns back to drinking. No one expects perfection, and if one falls there is someone there with a helping hand. They reach out in love and acceptance and start over with but one goal, to be sober today.

The AA is thus more like the primitive Christians than are our modern churches. In visiting any church today I would be surprised to hear such as: "Good morning, my name is John Brown and I am a sinner saved by grace. All of us here are sinners, looking to God and to each other for help in our struggle. Maybe we can help you." If there was more of that then I admit there would be no need for a gay church! But the sinners out there in the world hear the modern church say, "We welcome you so long as you are not too different from us, and of course we're good Christian people."

An ancient document, written by Pliny, a Roman governor, to Trajan the emperor, in 112 A.D., describes a worship service of early Christians. The governor tells how the Christians met before daybreak on "an appointed day" to sing hymns to Christ as to a god. He says that in their assembly they would join in an oath "not for the commission of any crime but to abstain from theft, robbery, adultery, and breach of faith, and not to deny any deposit when it is claimed." That in their assembly they would swear an oath not to sin indicates that they were something of a halfway house for sinners. It is probable that people today would be as impressed by this as a pagan governor was then.

The response from my readers has also led me to reexamine the nature of sin, especially in reference to the greater sins. Some churches have led divorced people to suppose that they have committed just about the greatest sin. Adultery is of course high on the list of condemned sins, perhaps because adultery is not usually a church sin. But no sin is seen as more grievous than homosexuality.

My readers are of course right that sexual sins, whether heterosexual or homosexual, are grievous sins against God, but are they more grievous than the sins of the modern church? The great theologians of the church through the centuries have insisted that sins of the heart are greater than the sins of the flesh. The medieval theologians named "the seven deadly sins," but not one of them is sexual. They are sins of heart and mind more than of the flesh. Pride heads the list as the root of all sin, followed by envy, anger, sloth, greed, gluttony and lust. Luther named ingratitude as the worst of all sins. Augustine listed all sins as either "carnalities" or "animosities" and saw the latter as most serious. Church folk tend to see sensual sins as primary, but theologians are agreed that pride is the primal sin, particularly the pride of power, virtue, and knowledge. It is a temptation for church folk to be proud of their religion and their good works. One theologian notes that in the teaching of Jesus inordinate self-love is the root of all sin.

To Jesus the most serious sins are pretense, hypocrisy, and self-righteousness. While he had a high level of tolerance toward prostitutes, women taken in adultery, and the common "sinners" of his day, he denounced the Pharisees as hypocrites who "devour widow's houses, and for a pretense make long prayers" (Mt. 23:14). He insisted that such ones would receive greater condemnation.  He taught that defilement comes more from the heart than from the passions, more from within than from without. In Mk. 7:21 Jesus names a dozen sins that defile us, of mind and body alike, but the emphasis is upon such spiritual sins as pride, folly, greed, malice, deceit, envy. These are the sins that have a way of going to church.

Paul, exposed as he was to the sins of Greeks and Romans, scores the grossest of both sensual and mental sins: sexual sins not only include adultery and homosexuality but pederasty (sex between a man and a boy) as well (I Cor. 6:9), and these sins were dealt with in a redemptive way in the church at Corinth. Paul's list of spiritual sins include those named by Jesus (greed, malice, envy, etc), but also wrangling, treachery, spite, rudeness, rebellion to parents, and even "without brains, honor, love or pity" (Rom. 1:29-30). But when Paul looks within his own soul he sees his own covetousness as "exceedingly sinful" (Rom. 7:7,13). Re did not name anyone but himself as "the chief of sinners."

Since homosexuality is a subject at issue, we may conclude that when the apostle condemns homosexuality he almost certainly is referring to certain homosexual acts, not to the state of being homosexual, which Paul probably was not aware of, just as he was unaware of alcoholism. In the above list he includes drunkenness as a sin, but surely Paul would not name the disease of alcoholism as a sin. He would say that the alcoholic should summon the resources available in Christ and not allow himself to become a drunkard. So with being gay. One may have no control over the fact that he is homosexual, but the apostle would insist that he nonetheless behave himself in a way that conforms to Christ's call for holiness, without which we cannot please God. We may never become wholly holy, but it is to be our heart's desire.

Well, there is surely enough sin in this article to go around. My point is made. The church should act as a halfway house for sinners. We are all in the struggle against sin together. If we are tempted to be intolerant of those who struggle with sensual sins, supposing them to be less righteous than ourselves, we should remember that it is our own sins of heart and mind that may be more grievous before God, such as selfish pride. The sexual sins out there in the world (and in the church) are surely abhorrent to a holy God, but the great sin of the modern church, our preoccupation with our own self-importance, may be far more abhorrent.

Surely the church as a halfway house cannot be too loving, too compassionate, too accepting toward those who are caught up in sin. We cannot, of course, become tolerant of sin itself. The rule of love the sinner but hate the sin still holds, but this must be more than so much talk. How do we love the sinner except by reaching out to him with understanding and acceptance, like Jesus did? A good rule to follow in hating sin itself is to make sure that we despise sin as we see it in our own lives more than in the lives of others.