Four The Christ-Centered Community

As I flew to the meeting my excitement increased. I met a dear man at the baggage-claim area who drove me to the hotel where our daylong workshop was held. I went into the ballroom with my briefcase in hand, eager to begin teaching. The room was filled with over sixty key leaders from around the United States. If these men can get a passion for this, their whole church could catch a new fire, I thought to myself. One of the leaders of the denomination introduced me, and I stepped to the podium with energy. I shared a funny story, and the room seemed to relax. Then I launched into my main discussion and made the following statement: “God has offered us many different means of grace—prayer, solitude, silence, the Bible, fasting and many others—in order to deepen our relationship with God, and to develop the character of Christ so that we can live vibrant lives with God and make a difference in our world.”

This was my well-crafted opening. It was also the end of my rapport with this audience. I later learned that they ardently and fervently believe that God has given the church only two means of grace—baptism and Communion. All of the activities I mentioned (prayer, Bible reading, solitude) are not considered means of grace. My tradition (Methodism), and all of the others I had ever spoken to, freely uses that term to describe those activities. But I had never been informed about their position on this issue. All I knew was that the audience was quickly going from concerned to hostile.

I had almost no eye contact within a minute of that opening sentence. Within fifteen minutes I saw heads shaking in disagreement. Thirty minutes into the talk a man actually stood up, turned his chair around and sat with his back turned to me. He could have actually left the room (three men did that at about the forty-minute mark), but he wanted to make a public proclamation of his disgust. I had violated a sacred principle; I had unknowingly taken a theological position that was contrary to theirs. I was wrong, in their eyes, about the use of a phrase, and they needed to shame me publicly. I stopped at around fifty-five minutes and said, “It seems like a good time for a break.”

Have you ever found yourself in a position where a miscommunication over theology created a seemingly insurmountable rift?

During that break the man who had driven me from the airport said to me with a very sad face, “The president is very sorry, but he thinks this is going very badly, and that we need to end your time speaking.” I was supposed to teach for the next four hours, but honestly, I wanted to go back in that room about as much as I wanted to walk into a hornet’s nest. I knew I would feel the pain of this moment for years to come. I said to the man, “I agree. Can you take me to the airport? Perhaps I can catch an early flight home.” He said he would.

As I was walking down the lonely corridor I heard a voice. “Excuse me,” a man whispered, “may I ask a question?” I said, “Sure.” He said, “I am sorry about how you were treated. I am new to this denomination, recently ordained, and I don’t share all of the same views as my fellow pastors. All I know is that I am unable to help my people grow in discipleship, and it seems you might be able to help me.” His sincerity was clear, so I stopped to help. “Look,” I said, “just do this. Read Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster. You will have plenty to work on for many years. Read it for yourself and put it into practice in your own life first. In time you will change, and then you will naturally pass it on to your people.” He thanked me, and I shuffled off, completely defeated, down the hallway to the parking lot. As I flew home, I leaned my head against the window and started to cry.

False Narrative:
If We Disagree, Then We Must Divide

I imagine many readers are now wondering, Which denomination was that? It doesn’t matter. I suspect it could be any denomination, in that similar stories happen all the time in churches. What I took away from the experience was how something so small—three little words—was the cause of such division. I take responsibility for not being better prepared, which may have prevented the situation. But I believe they were equally culpable for not extending grace to me for my lack of knowledge. Someone should have interrupted me and said something like, “Excuse me, Jim, but you just used a phrase that is a bit charged for us. Here is our position on it . . .” and then offered me a chance to respond.

Do you agree that Sunday morning is the most segregated time of the week? Why or why not?

Let me state the obvious and awful truth: the church of Jesus Christ has been split into many different factions who refuse to have fellowship with one another. For a people who claim one Lord, one faith and one baptism, we are not one church but exist in isolation, judgment, suspicion and condemnation. This is a sad and terrible situation that undoubtedly grieves the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Race, class, denomination and doctrine separate the people of God. Sunday morning is the most segregated time of the week. There are over thirty thousand recognized Protestant denominations, and many of them reject every other denomination but their own.

Why? Because we have adopted a false narrative that gives us permission to separate from those who are different from us in appearance or status or belief. It goes something like this: “If you do not look like us, act like us, worship like us or think like us, we are not obligated to have fellowship with you.”

Anglos worship with Anglos; Hispanics worship with Hispanics. Wealthy people attend church with wealthy people; poor people attend church with poor people. People who believe the Bible is inerrant fellowship only with those who believe the same; people who believe homosexuality is an acceptable lifestyle fellowship only with those who affirm same-sex relationships.

I once attended a talk where the speaker sprinkled salt and pepper on a metal sheet. He then shook it, and the pepper and the salt began to separate. He then went on to say that the races, like the salt and pepper, will always naturally separate, that blacks want to be with blacks and whites with whites, and that his illustration proved this was natural and God-ordained. This speech was given in a church. It was a clear example of the false narrative and a rationale to support it. Of course, this had nothing to do with racial separation. Salt and pepper separate because of weight, not color. Nonetheless, I looked around and saw people nodding in agreement, as if they were saying, “Yes, people of the same race should not worship together.” It was appalling.

What do you think about the notion that “if we disagree we must divide”? Do you consider this to be a false narrative?

Do you speak in tongues? Do you sing hymns or praise music? Do you believe women can be pastors? Do you allow instruments in your sanctuary? These are questions we use to find out what people believe and practice, and the answers determine whether we can worship together. Some even question the salvation of those who answer differently. The sad fact is this: our divisions simply cannot be the way Jesus intended it to be. The false narrative of this chapter—if we disagree, then we must divide—
allows this to happen and keeps it happening. Remember, we need a rationale for our behavior. Our actions are built on our ideas and narratives. Therefore, in order to overcome this problem, we need to replace the false narrative with the true narrative, the one found in the New Testament.

The Fear Behind the False Narrative

I do not believe that the church leaders who rejected me did so with malice toward me as much as fear. They were afraid that if they accepted my position they would be allowing something dangerous into their midst. Their position on only two means of grace has a long history, and they had concluded long ago that the inclusion of other means of grace diminished the sanctity of baptism and Communion, and overly elevated prayer and Bible reading. They were being protective in order to preserve the truth, which is probably why they were promoted to leadership. We want our shepherds to guard the flock.

Even when the motive is benign, we must not let our fears dictate our behavior. Perfect love casts out fear, because the kingdom is never in trouble. The gates of hell will not be shaken by correct doctrine but by the passionate hearts of men and women who have let go of their fears and moved forward in confidence that Christ is Lord and every knee will bow and every tongue confess it to be true. At the core of our fear is a desire to control. Exclusion allows us the feeling that we are safe; we have kept the false teachers out; we have cast out of the fellowship the wolves in sheep’s clothing, and all is well. Insistence on doctrinal correctness is often a smoke screen that hides a deeper problem: our insecurity that all will crumble if we don’t get everything right. The same is true for racial and gender differences. If people look or act different than we do, we become uncomfortable because we cannot fully understand them or control their behavior.

So, how do we overcome this in the body of Christ? Stanley Hauerwas explains: “This love that is characteristic of God’s kingdom is possible only for a forgiven people—a people who have learned not to fear one another. . . . Only when my self—my character—has been formed by God’s love, do I know I have no reason to fear the other.”

Hauerwas pinpoints the problem: we fear each other. Much of that fear can be overcome by increasing our understanding of different races and cultures. But ultimately we overcome those fears by becoming people who know they are forgiven and are being formed by God’s love.

The truth is that we will never get everything right. Who am I to say to another, “My doctrines, dogmas and definitions are perfect”? (Of course, I am addressing relationships within the church, not our relationship with those outside.) I see through a glass dimly when it comes to these minor matters. We simply must not divide over things we cannot fully understand. Especially in light of the fact that what we can understand, what is not a murky mystery but a blinding truth, is something we can all agree on: Jesus is Lord!

If your heart beats in love for Jesus, then take my hand and we will walk together in fellowship.

True Narrative:
Christ-Followers Must Remain Unified

It is misguided to think that we Christians are always going to agree on every issue. It is also true that our cultural and worship practices differ. Accepting our differences is imperative, but they are no grounds for division. The true narrative, I believe, goes something like this: If you do not look, act, worship or believe as I do, but your heart beats in love for Jesus, then regardless of our differences, we can and must have fellowship with one another.

Many Christians have found a way to support the schism that is alarmingly prevalent in our day through the false narrative that disagreement allows for division. The true narrative, I believe, allows for disagreement, but not for division. We do not have to agree about style of worship or certain minor points of doctrine, but we can and must have fellowship if we hold to the central belief about Jesus. Which is why I can boldly proclaim: Jesus is Lord!

If your heart beats in love for Jesus, then take my hand and we will walk together in fellowship. He is Lord of those who insist that women cannot serve in ministry and Lord of those who insist they can. He is Lord of the Baptists and of the Episcopalians, Lord of those who speak in tongues and those who do not.

Styles of worship, dress codes, methods of baptism and differences of opinion about church polity simply cannot tear asunder what God has joined together. The church is a unified body, held together by Jesus. We may think we are divided, but we are not. I believe that all denominations that affirm the basic doctrines found in the creeds (i.e., the Apostles’ Creed and the Nicene Creed) comprise the church in its many forms, whether they like it or not! I do not believe this because I am fond of unity and against diversity; I hold this position because I believe it is the teaching of Jesus and Paul.

Jesus’ Narrative: I Pray They May Be One

Jesus knew that his disciples would come from all nations and races. In fact, he even commissioned his disciples to reach out to those outside of Judaism. In the Great Commission, Jesus instructed: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19).

The Greek word for “nations” is ethnos, from which we get the word “ethnic.” Jesus commands his disciples to go and make disciples of people from all ethnic backgrounds. Jesus unites all people, regardless of race, culture or creed, into one fellowship. Their unity is established in their baptism in the name of the Father, Son and Spirit. The many become one in the name of the Trinity.

Jesus knew that the invitation would be given not only to the Jews but also to those outside of Israel. He stated this clearly: “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd” (John 10:16). Gentiles would hear his voice and join the one flock under the leading of one Shepherd. The key word here is one. God’s divine plan has always been to unite people of all nations into an all-inclusive community of loving persons who live under God’s generous provision.

That is God’s plan, and it does not include division. Just as the Trinity is unified, so the body of Christ is one. Jesus’ famous prayer in John 17 illustrates this desire: “I ask not only on behalf of these, but also on behalf of those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me” (John 17:20-21).

Jesus is here anticipating the future when people would become his apprentices through the witness of his disciples. He is praying for unity within the ecclesia, the same kind of unity experienced in the mutual indwelling of the Father and the Son: “you are in me and I am in you.” Jesus did not believe that our differences should divide us. Unity in the fellowship comes from a single source: Jesus.

Paul’s Narrative: We Are One in Christ

For the first two decades after the resurrection and ascension of Jesus, Christians were primarily Jews who accepted Jesus as the Messiah. But thanks to the ministry of Paul, who had been commissioned to work as “an apostle to the Gentiles” (Romans 11:13), the gospel spread beyond Judaism. By the mid-50s a.d. churches from Jerusalem to Rome consisted of people from all different races and backgrounds. Despite their differences, they were one. Paul explained the ground for their unity:

There is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free; but Christ is all and in all! (Colossians 3:11)

There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)

Paul is explaining the diversity and the unity of the ecclesia of Jesus. Jew and Greek, male and female, slave and master were one in Christ. Even the barbarian and the Scythian were welcome in the fellowship. Barbarians did not speak Greek and were thought to be uncivilized. Scythians were considered ruthless, crude and violent. Yet Paul included them in his list, showing that even those who seem to have no possibility for fellowship find their unity in Christ. Notice the phrase in Colossians 3:11: “Christ is all and in all.” This is the central reason for our unity. Christ is in the female as well as the male, in the Jew as well as the Greek, even in the barbarian and the Scythian! Christ within is the bond of our unity. Though we differ on the outside, we are people indwelt by Christ, and therefore we, who differ in externals, become one because of who we are internally.

If you were making this list to reflect contemporary churches, who would you include in your categories?

What might this have felt like to the members of the church in Colossae? Imagine you are Jewish, taught from birth that you are chosen by God and that the Gentiles are defiled, and having to join hands with a Greek for prayer. Or imagine you are a slaveholder, a member of the elite class, and reaching out to receive a piece of Communion bread from a slave. Imagine you are a first-century man raised with the notion that women are inferior, and looking across the room at a woman who, by her graciousness, has paid for the home you are meeting in. The cross-centered community discovered a kind of equality unknown in the first century.

One Cup, One Loaf, One Body

The act of Communion, also called the Lord’s Supper or the Eucharist, has been a cause for division through the centuries. Even Reformers like Luther, Calvin and Zwingli argued a great deal about the meaning of Communion. Today there are just as many if not more divisions over its nature and practice. This is ironic, given that one of Paul’s favorite metaphors to describe the unity of the fellowship was the Lord’s Supper: “The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a sharing in the blood of Christ? The bread that we break, is it not a sharing in the body of Christ? Because there is one bread, we who are many are one body, for we all partake of the one bread” (1 Corinthians 10:16-17, italics added).

Communion is a visible demonstration of how we who are many become one by uniting in the body and blood of Jesus. At the church where my family worships, I am frequently asked to help serve Communion. One Sunday, several years ago, I was struck by something I had never noticed before: people’s hands.

Usually I distribute the bread (or wafer) by handing it to people, who hold out their hands to receive it. On this particular Sunday I was struck by how everyone’s hands looked different: some were small, some large; some were calloused, some soft; some were wrinkled, some smooth; some had deformities, some were strong and healthy. All of these different hands were reaching out and receiving the same loaf. Their uniqueness and diversity found oneness and unity in the body of Christ. In fact, they were not only partaking of the body of Christ, they were the body of Christ.

We belong to one another. Our differences are not a hindrance but a welcome part of the body. The apostle wrote, “So we, who are many, are one body in Christ, and individually we are members one of another” (Romans 12:5).

On that day I remember feeling connected to the people in a way I had never experienced before. Those hands, those begging hands, reaching forward for the bread of heaven, became one in Christ. In several places Paul uses the metaphor of the body to describe how many become one. Hands and feet, eyes and ears, kneecaps and elbows are all different, yet find their unity in being a part of the same body.

And One Mind

Apprentices of Jesus are united because they share the one cup, the one loaf, and are one body, but Paul takes it one step further by encouraging Christ-followers to be of one mind:

Finally, brothers, good-by. Aim for perfection, listen to my appeal, be of one mind, live in peace. And the God of love and peace will be with you. (2 Corinthians 13:11 niv)

I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought. (1 Corinthians 1:10 niv)

In both of these verses Paul appeals to the people to be united in their thinking. I suspect this is because he knows how easily people divide on the basis of race and class, and also on the basis of teaching, ideology or doctrine.

He pleads for them to “agree with one another so that there may be no divisions” among them. But this leads to the question: How can we agree with people who refuse to agree with us? How can we be “united in mind and thought” when clearly we do not agree on every point? Should we simply let go of our ideas, opinions or doctrines? We will never agree on all things, but we can and must agree on one thing: Jesus is Lord. The only way for us to “agree with one another,” as Paul admonished the Corinthians, is to make the crucial distinction between essentials and nonessentials, and to find ways to love one another when our nonessentials differ. For an example of this, we can turn to an eighteenth-century man named John, who offered a helpful way for us to stay united even when we disagree.

In Essentials Unity, in Nonessentials Charity

Augustine is given credit for the quote “In essentials, unity; in doubtful matters, liberty; in all things, charity.” If in fact it came from Augustine, it was his way of dealing with the difficult matter of disagreement in the church. It is a helpful principle that offers us a way to think about how we can stay unified even when we disagree. John Wesley liked this aphorism and modified it slightly in his preaching to the early Methodists.

The early Methodist societies consisted of people from different classes and backgrounds. Wesley quickly saw the problem of division on the basis of class, and he solved it (somewhat) by asking those who were wealthy not to dress in clothing that would set them apart from those who were poor. In the matter of division on the basis of doctrine, Wesley found a solution, as explained in his famous sermon “The Catholic Spirit” (the word catholic does not here refer to the Roman Catholic Church but rather means universal).

Wesley believed that the only way for the church to be unified was to learn how to distinguish between essentials and nonessentials, discover how to accept our differences in the nonessentials, and then decide not to let the differences overshadow our common faith. He believed love and commitment to Jesus were essential. Everything else was simply nonessential. He did not mean unimportant; he meant that those things should not divide us.

Wesley allowed differences of opinion, but he, like Paul, appealed to the Methodists not to let their differences prevent them from loving each other. In two sections of “The Catholic Spirit” Wesley states the matter clearly: “But although a difference of opinions or modes of worship may prevent an entire external union, yet need it prevent our union in affection? Though we can’t think alike, may we not love alike? May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion? Without all doubt we may.”

Later in the sermon, Wesley gets more specific:

I ask not therefore of him with whom I would unite in love, “Are you of my Church? Of my congregation?” . . . I inquire not, “Do you receive the Supper of the Lord in the same posture and manner that I do?” . . . Nay, I ask not of you . . . whether you allow baptism and the Lord’s Supper at all. Let all these things stand by: we will talk of them, if need be, at a more convenient season. My only question at present is this, “Is thine heart right, as my heart is with thy heart?” (39.1.11)

We can, and will, differ in how we think, which style of worship we prefer, which method of baptism we affirm, but these are not essential. The only thing that matters is that our hearts beat in love for Jesus. If we have that, we are united. Then we can say once again: Jesus is Lord!

If your heart beats in love for Jesus, then take my hand and we will walk together in fellowship.

Not Unimportant, Just Not Important Enough

I preached at a vibrant church in the Northeast and found myself impressed with everything about their life together. They loved one another, and they worshiped with enthusiasm. Children, youth, young adults, adults and the elderly all gathered together as one body. I was inspired by being with them. After the event I went to the pastor’s office to gather up my things and to wait for the pastor to take me to the airport. I soon realized that an important meeting was going on, so I sat outside of his door in the waiting area. Though I did not intend to eavesdrop, the door was open, so I could hear what was going on. They spoke in hushed tones, so I knew it was a serious matter.

“We know we must leave the denomination,” the pastor said, “because we disagree on a fundamental issue. And we know the church supports the separation—the vote was 92 percent in favor of separating and joining a new denomination. The only question is, who owns the building?”

“Right. That is the problem. Technically, our current denomination owns the property. If we split, we will have to move out,” a man said. “Our lawyers think we can fight it in court, but we could lose and spend a lot of money trying. The general consensus is that we need to fight it, though. The people feel like it is their church. They paid for it, they built it, they were baptized here and married here, and they buried their loved ones here.”

The meeting lasted for about fifteen minutes, and then they tabled the discussion for a later time. The pastor came out of his office and said, “Sorry, Jim. It was an urgent meeting. Are you ready to go to the airport?” I told him I was. While driving on the freeway I could tell he was still deep in thought about the meeting he had just had. He asked, “Did you overhear our discussion?”

“Yes,” I said. “I was not trying to . . .”

“No, I am glad you did. I was wondering what you think. Do you think we should fight to keep our building?” he asked.

“Do you really want to know what I think? You may not like it,” I said.

“Please tell me. I won’t be offended.”

“Well, I don’t think you should fight it,” I said. “In fact, I don’t think you should split from the denomination.”

“Jim, are you serious? How can we stay? The church has gotten too liberal. We can’t stay tied to a group that believes what they affirm,” he said with a little anger in his voice.

“Has the denomination denied the deity of Jesus, the reality of the resurrection or the triune God?” I asked.

“No. But they are affirming principles that are not backed by the Bible. In fact, they are denying the authority of the Bible.”

“Have they made that statement: ‘We reject the authority of the Bible’?” I asked.

“No. But by holding their position—which is against the Bible’s teaching—they are in fact rejecting it.”

What difference is there between rejecting the Bible and rejecting a particular interpretation in the Bible?

“Rejecting the Bible or rejecting your understanding of what the Bible teaches?” I asked again.

“Jim, I thought you were a conservative Christian. You preach about Jesus, and you preach from the Bible.”

“I am not a liberal or a conservative. I am an apprentice of Jesus. I am simply trying to discern that which is essential and that which is nonessential. For me, the basic teaching found in the creeds is essential. Everything else is nonessential. Not unimportant, just not important enough for me to divide from those who share the same belief in the essentials. I actually agree with your church’s position on this issue, but I would not divide over it, because it is a nonessential to me.”

“Well, that is a fair point. I guess I and the majority in our church believe that this issue is an essential,” he said. “That is why we must split.”

I told him I appreciated his heart and his desire to be faithful to God. I dearly love this pastor and his people. They made a choice to split, a choice I did not affirm but understood and accepted. I stand in unity with them. Though I disagree with their choice to split, they are my brothers and sisters in Christ, and in my eyes we are one. They still believe in the same essentials as I do, and that is our unity. We disagree over what I believe is a nonessential, and for that reason I offer them charity.

Challenges to Unity in the Church

Thus far I have focused mainly on the divisions in the church that come from disagreement about doctrine. I want to return to Paul’s admonition in Colossians 3 to take a closer look at three other causes of separation in the church: race, gender and class. In the following verses Paul mentions these differences specifically:

Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all. (Colossians 3:11 niv)

There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:28)

Notice the word here in Colossians 3:11. Where is the “here”? It is in the church. The ecclesia is a peculiar community rooted in another world—the kingdom of heaven. When the community gathers in the name of Jesus, they step out of this world and its natural divisions, and they become a united people.

How are we united? Both verses are clear: in Christ. Christ is in everyone, changing our fundamental identity. We are people in whom Christ dwells. This fact does not eradicate our differences. Men are still men and women are still women; the body of Christ does not comprise an androgynous people. Those who are Greek and those who are Jews remain Greeks and Jews by ethnicity. And those who were slaves are still slaves when they step outside of the community. Paul is saying that here, in the gathered community, we are one in Christ.

When have you experienced a sense of unity with a diverse group of Christians? What created that unity?

The solution to gender, race and social divisions is not to eradicate our differences but to see them in light of Jesus. The Pentecostal move-ment in the United States in the early twentieth century was astonish-ingly diverse. Blacks, whites and Latinos worshiped together, and women played an important role in ministry. They were fond of saying that the “color line was washed away in the blood of Jesus.” This was because they saw their unity in the Spirit. Males and females, whites and blacks, rich and poor—all were conduits for the same Spirit. Equality was discovered not by disregarding differences but by finding the source of unity within their diversity.

The true source of our “unity in diversity” is the Trinity. The Trinity is neither black nor white nor male nor female; the divine persons are distinct and yet unified. Serene Jones writes, “God’s very reality is radically multiple, radically relational, and infinitely active.” The Father is distinct from the Son and the Spirit, and finds his identity in that difference. And yet, Father, Son and Spirit are one, mutually indwelling and mutually interdependent. That is why the church is both distinct and unified. The good and beautiful community is a mirror of the Trinity.

Distinctions in gender and race are not to be downplayed but affirmed as a part of God’s beautiful creation. Outside of the church these distinctions cause suspicion and division, and are barriers to community; inside the church they can be celebrated and affirmed. N. T. Wright observes:

These distinctions . . . have become irrelevant in Christ. . . . These barriers and habits are . . . neither natural or normal. They are, ultimately, a denial of the creation of humankind in the image of God. . . . [D]ifferences of background, nationality, colour, language, social standing and so forth must be regarded as irrelevant to the question of love, honor and respect that are to be shown to individuals and groups.

I would disagree slightly with the word irrelevant because our distinctions remain and are a part of the beauty of the body of Christ. While not irrelevant, race, gender and class, to use Wesley’s phrase, are nonessentials when it comes to unity. The essential is our identity as people in whom Christ dwells. But Wright shifts the issue to the right place: these differences are indeed irrelevant to the question of love. Tolerance is not our primary aim, nor is equality; our highest aim is love. Our primary focus is on Christ as Lord. So we say, Jesus is Lord!

If your heart beats in love for Jesus, then take my hand and we will walk together in fellowship.

Richard’s Dream

Richard J. Foster wrote one of the most important books on spiritual formation in the past hundred years, Celebration of Discipline. Not long after its initial success, Richard was troubled by something: individuals, not groups, were using the book in isolation, with the aim of personal spiritual growth. Richard believed that the disciplines — with their roots in the ancient church—were not meant to separate but to unite. Under the leading of the Spirit he chose to take an
eighteen-month sabbatical from writing and speaking. During that time he listened to God, and a clear message was given to him: the walls that separate our churches must come down.

In a vision like the dream given to Martin Luther King Jr.,
Foster was filled with a new hope for the church. He articulated it this way:

Right now we largely remain a scattered people. This has been the condition of the Church of Jesus Christ for a good many years. But a new thing is coming. God is gathering his people once again, creating of them an all-inclusive community of loving persons with Jesus Christ as the community’s prime sustainer and most glorious inhabitant. . . . I see a people . . . even though it feels as if I am peering through a glass darkly.

I see a country pastor from Indiana embracing an urban priest from New Jersey and together praying for the peace of the world. I see a people.

I see a Catholic monk from the hills of Kentucky standing alongside a Baptist evangelical from the streets of Los Angeles and together offering up a sacrifice of praise. I see a people.

I see social activists from the urban centers of Hong Kong joining with Pentecostal preachers from the barrios of São Paulo and together weeping over the spiritually lost and the plight of the poor. I see a people.

I see laborers from Soweto and landowners from Pretoria honoring and serving each other out of reverence for Christ. I see a people.

I see Hutu and Tutsi, Serb and Croat, Mongol and Han Chinese, African-American and Anglo, Latino and Native American all sharing and caring and loving one another. I see a people.

I see the sophisticated standing with the simple, the elite standing with the dispossessed, the wealthy standing with the poor. I see a people.

This vision gave birth to Renovaré, a spiritual renewal ministry for churches that Richard and others established in 1988. Great strides have occurred through this ministry and others like it. The vision is strong and powerful because, I believe, it is the vision of God for his people.

Can You Offer Charity to Me?

I suspect that this chapter will have challenged or even offended many readers. I have taken a bold position: we must view all who call on Jesus as our brothers and sisters regardless of doctrine or race or practice. I am aware that some of what I call nonessential will be, for others, essentials worth fighting for. I respect your position, and I pray you respect mine. I am still searching, still trying to follow the leading of the Spirit. I pray that you extend to me the same charity that I offer you, the charity to love and accept you as a member of Christ’s body, as someone who is important to me, even if we disagree. I know we agree on one thing, and it is my hope that it is strong enough to hold us all together: Jesus is Lord!

If your heart beats in love for Jesus, then take my hand and we will walk together in fellowship.

Soul Training

Loving Those We Disagree With

John Wesley not only gave us a helpful way to stay unified even if we disagree, but also in that same sermon he offered five ways we can show love to those with whom we differ or disagree in the nonessentials:

1. Treat them as companions.

2. Do not think or speak evil of them.

3. Pray for them.

4. Encourage them to do good.

5. Collaborate with them in ministry.

These excellent suggestions will go a long way toward helping us not only to get along but also to love fellow Christians we have differences with.

This week, think about a church or a friend or fellow Christian who belongs to a church other than yours. It may be that you know someone or a local church whose doctrines and practices are different than yours. See if you can implement some or all of Wesley’s ideas. What might this look like?

Treat them as companions. Ask the person to lunch. If it is a church you are feeling led to connect with in this way, worship with them.

Do not speak or think evil of them. Be sure to refrain from pointing out your differences, either to the person or to others. Focus on what you have in common.

Pray for them. Make that person or that church the special object of your prayers this week.

Encourage them to do good. During lunch or worship, or whenever you connect, be sure to encourage the person in the good work he or she is already doing. Ask questions and find out what the person, or the church, is doing in ministry, and be affirming.

Collaborate with them. If at all possible, see if you can work alongside the person (or church), either in something he or she is doing, or in some ministry in which you are engaged. Working alongside someone creates a bond of unity that overcomes our differences.

Other Exercises

In addition, find time this week to pray not only for those who differ but for the body of Christ and its leaders. The following are two ways we can do this:

1. Pray for the unity of the church. As you pray for the unity of the church you will find yourself shifting the focus from how we differ in ideas or practices, and onto the One who holds us all together.

2. Pray for pastors and leaders. If the church is to unite in new ways, it will likely come from the leaders. Pray for pastors and other church leaders to catch the same vision that captured the mind of Richard Foster. If you want, use Richard’s vision as a guide for your prayers.