WORTHY OF GOD?
By O. H. TALLMAN (1916-1978)
Scores of denominations in Christendom maintain their separateness at the dictate of conscience. Although they are aware of Jesus' prayer for unity and sensitive to its plea, they cannot in conscience surrender something they believe to be the divine will in order to become a formal part of a universal or ecumenical church body. The fact of their separateness does not indicate indifference to God's will, but rather concern over it. Church history reveals that most of these groups became separated from the parent group because of their different conviction. Either they withdrew from what they considered an apostate group or else were viewed as heretics by the parent group. In many cases the new sects were born at the price of great pain and sacrifice. If they were not the victims of church and social ostracism or persecution, they had to endure the breach of fellowship and family bonds to be true to their faith. If there are those among them today who do not know the reason for their separateness, there were those in the beginning who DID know at the price of suffering and sometimes death.
It is an injustice to represent the divided state of Christendom as a monument to indifference to God's will. It is the very opposite. It is a witness that often men were willing to hazard much to be true to their faith. It is at the same time evidence that informed, conscientious, devout men could not agree on what God's will was. They did what they thought they had to do. Thereafter each thought the hope for Christian unity lay in the dissolution of the other groups. This attitude on the part of each seemed to be no less serious even when more than a hundred groups were each calling on the others to dissolve, each thinking that the divine will was that it alone survive. Ludicrous as this seems, it underscores the seriousness with which each viewed its separate existence and faith. But such a ridiculous state of claim and counterclaim could not go on indefinitely without thoughtful leaders beginning to ask, "If their claim seems to me ridiculous, may not my claim seem ridiculous to them, and may not all our claims appear ridiculous to others and to God? If in a hundred contesting points of view each claims exclusive divine sanction, and each claims that it alone is approved by the Bible, then every last one had better do some humble soul-searching and some very serious, exhaustive study, analysis, and evaluation of its faith." Some of the leaders of denominationalism set themselves to this discipline. They began to see how Bible students came to have divergent views of Scripture's meaning, how a thousand forces conditioned people to this conviction or that preoccupation, to this emphasis or that observance; how persons of virtually equal competence, devotion, and studious application to Scripture taught divergent and conflicting messages. It was a humbling experience in which one could not credit himself with virtue, intelligence, or insight in a degree that would set him apart from all these devout men. One of the beneficial results was that some of these leaders began to see themselves and their churches in their true personal and historic perspective. This led to a diminishing of the tendency of each denomination to think of itself as the true or only body of Christ. They came to see that some of things responsible for their separateness were, after all, not things that could be seriously considered matters of prime concern to God. As a consequence they could now in good conscience consider relinquishing some of these things that had /13/ been traditional with them in order to move toward unity with other bodies of Christendom. This made possible talk among them of a universal or ecumenical church that they hoped would be in larger measure a response to Christ's prayer for unity. Some have wrongly imagined that the budding ecumenical movement was possible in our generation only because the churches no longer had any convictions. It was possible rather because there has been an admission of the sin of division and the willingness to accept individually part of the responsibility for this sin. On the part of many there is a real spirit of humility and penitence for blindness, and sectarian-spirited self- righteousness that has torn Christendom. Talk of unity is possible also because after centuries in which Christianity has emphasized those things that separate it, it has at long last begun to talk about things that are common to the faith and spirit of most. It has begun to ask if its parts cannot more fully find and exemplify the spirit and will of Christ. It is beginning to ask most seriously what the Christian church is. It may be stimulated to inquire most fervently about the church's message from God to the world; the great concerns for which Christ gave his life; what he hoped thereby to create; what he hoped to commit to men thereby; the grand truth worthy of the Almighty's concern and the Saviour's life; what the church is to be; and what it is to do in the world to be worthy of this. These questions are of great importance. One cannot read the record of the infinite variety of the causes of dispute and division in the history of the church without being convinced that ever so many of these things were not worthy even of human concern, let alone divine concern. One is impressed that the only reason men became embroiled over them was that they were victims of systems of interpreting Scripture that made them quibblers over things that they should normally have recognized were not worthy of discussion. In our century surely we must be impressed by the superlative majesty of God. The unfolding of the infinity of wonders in his vast universe must, as we glimpse them, fill us with awe at least to equal what Isaiah felt as he beheld God in the temple. It seems inconceivable, then, that thoughtful people will become preoccupied with things that are unworthy even of themselves and imagine that these things are important concerns of God. In the Churches of Christ disputes over means, procedures, mechanics and form of congregational worship, support of church- related institutions, details of organizational form, what part of a man's life is his church life and what part is merely Christian or secular, (particularly with regard to the spending of his money), and many other things unworthy of us are fastened unduly on us by man-made modes of interpreting Scripture, or by fallacious suppositions, or by a distorted sense of values. And this sometimes is done to a pitiful neglect of the great concerns worthy of us and of God. Although it may be comforting, and may eliminate any feeling of need to investigate our faith thoroughly, it is folly to suppose that we alone of all concerned religious people in the world have the only objective approach to Scripture that gives us alone the understanding of God's will. The man in the asylum who believes he is God may be highly incensed if one does not agree with his estimate of himself; but his outraged feelings only indicate his unwillingness or incapacity to question his estimate of himself. It is much more commendable and sane to join the human race. Those leaders among us who have the grace to walk humbly, and who have the means at hand have the responsibility to study intently and objectively what our particular approach to Scripture is, what suppositions we bring to this study, the fallible human reasoning we sometimes try to bind on men as though our inferences were as authoritative as God's own voice. It is hoped that the day of our cradle innocence is behind us when we asserted that we did not interpret Scripture, but simply accepted what it said. But hose of us who are not leaders with the sharp instruments of history and logic need not think we are therefore hopelessly at sea when it comes to discerning Scripture's message. The greatest aids to understanding are an inquisitive, open mind, and a sense of values activated by some appreciation of God. A helpful guide in evaluating what is presented for our consideration as the will of God is to ask the simple question, "Is this worthy of God?" This is a question the world frequently asks, and properly so. If we do not ask it, we may appear, and be, ridiculous in the eyes of God and men alike. /15/ That many in the church are occupied with "tiddlywinks" when their hearts and hands should be dedicated to the worthy things is quite apparent. That sensitive men will defend their playing "tiddlywinks" with many proof texts indicates how tragically their natural sense of values can be frustrated because they are victims of a false notion of "scripturalness" or an erroneous or traditional method of interpretation. In Romans, Paul reminded the Jews that they were causing the name of God to be blasphemed because of their immorality and hypocrisy. The church sometimes causes a related reaction. Because of its misplaced emphases men say, "If these are the matters of prime concern with God, I am afraid he does not interest me." Sensitive, thoughtful, searching men are turned away from the church because its preoccupations often are so unworthy of God. In rhetorical language Paul evidenced his abounding thrill and pride in the gospel when he said, "I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is God's power unto salvation." No one ever need be ashamed of the gospel. Every Christian who has an appreciable grasp of what it really is ought to experience a profound thrill over it like Paul did. But how many are gratified and elated over the message they hear? How many are thrilled by their fellow Christians who should be a living, inspiring testament to the gospel? How many are thrilled by the concerns that are the church's, by its insights, by its thirst for a more adequate appreciation of Christ's mission, by its vibrant, God-breathed life full of humanitarian concern, ennobled by the Christian view of man's dignity, encouraged by the perspective of optimism, dignified by the great commission to universal brotherhood, graced by the patience of love, inspired by the irrepressible march of God's purpose, and filled with the dignity of God's service?
How many breathe the truth of God's divine initiative of love? How many have a worthy view of, and a sound relationship with, God that enables us to love him with our "whole heart, soul, mind, and strength"? Do we see him infinitely worthy of loving so that our life with him eradicates fear, dispels guilt, diminishes pain, and banishes loneliness? Do we characteristically relate ourselves personally, sensitively, appreciatively, creatively to other people? Do we possess enough love ourselves that our relationship with others tends in measure to commit to them release form fear and loneliness? Does each person we meet stand a little straighter because he is made to feel our faith in his human dignity? Do we impart to him our appreciation of the privilege we feel at having had the association? Since people are objects of divine love, we should cherish every association possible with anyone God loves. We should anticipate our own enrichment thereby; we should hope for creative and even redemptive results. Jesus frequented the homes of publicans and sinners, carrying with him the good will of God and often imparting to them the curative and redeeming love of God. He was no condescending do-gooder stooping to an association with inferior beings. He was the strong Son of God going to other children of God with a knowledge of their potential, with an appreciation of them in spite of their sin. Jesus' acceptance of them, his genuinely loving them was, no doubt, the spark that struck fire and bore them in responsive love to God. When Jesus saw Zacchaeus, he called out for all to hear that he was going home with him. Zacchaeus' occupation was that of the disreputable publican. But Zacchaeus was the child of God about whom Jesus was glad to proclaim his intended association. This was an act of courage. It was an act of good will. It was a declaration, too, that people had their values wrong. That Zacchaeus was a child of God was a greater reality and therefore a greater consideration than that he had sinned. The fact that he was a child of God dictated that Jesus seek an association with him. The fact that he was a sinner only meant that he in some special degree needed love. The story seems to indicate that Jesus' courageous public acceptance of the man, and his evident concern and love, quickly warmed him to penitence, generosity, and salvation. Almost without number is the host of people today who are ostracized, segregated, or discriminated against for no fault of their own. But loneliness, guilt, fear, and pain are their companions just as surely as if all of these things had been the products of their personal sin. But whether through personal sin or through being victimized by a sinning society, there are millions of Zacchaeuses hungry for acceptance, /16/ dying for want of love, lonely because there are no courageous servants of Jesus to cry out in a public way, "I am going home with you!" There are as many who need to be washed of shame, hatred, tension, resentment, cynicism, and dark passion by the administration of a sensitive person's genuine love. Repentance waits for the goodness of God, but how hard for this goodness to penetrate a person's world that seems to be primarily hostile or unconcerned. How seldom the goodness of God is impressed on those from whom society or the church withdraws in disdain, or merely neglects! The prodigal son, though prodigal, was still the beloved son. The lost sheep, though lost, was the object of concern and action. Jesus' mission was to people. He came to seek and to save the lost. His church's mission must be people--where they are, what they are. Sensitively, hopefully, lovingly, creatively, it must go with the assurance that the person has an essential dignity, a potential for life, a heart that can be tendered. The Christian should go with the expectation of mutual enrichment in an association with a fellow of like frailties, but of life potential. One will likely intuitively know if another looks down on him, and once he feels he is neither respected nor loved, he realizes he will not truly be served. The superior feeling person does not serve others. He uses them and subtly deceives himself that he is serving.
A child of God warmed by the spirit of Christ's fellowship cannot cooly or aloofly relate himself to another person. Rapport on the Christian level must be based on evaluating man highly and dealing with him as a sovereign son of God beloved of the Father, dignified by this status, and potentially worthy of the dignity. Such a view of our fellow-man creates anticipation for association, dissipates fear in the relationship and generates the beginning of the infinite potential of love. In view of the greatness of the Christian challenge and the magnificence of its creative fruits, can we be content to wall ourselves in church buildings, compliment ourselves on the propriety of our doctrine and morals, invite similar respectable people to join our ranks, concern ourselves with building funds, attendance records, procedural fastidiousness, religious exclusiveness, parochial indoctrination, social status-quoism, and the like, and neglect the lonely human treasures whose spirits shrivel in the climate of cold unconcern. Do you see God's concern to be greater than this? Is the heart of Jesus commendable portrayed in such a church? Will it melt the fearful, desolate, groping anguished hearts of our day? Will it deliver to them the abounding life, the great salvation? |