Pride and Shame

W. Carl Ketcherside

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     In his epistle to the saints of Philippi, the apostle Paul referred to some of whom he had spoken previously, and of whom he again wrote while weeping over their state. One characteristic of these people lay in the fact that their glory was in their shame. J. B. Phillips translates the passage, "Their pride is in what they should be ashamed of."

     It seems very difficult to continue to glory in the cross, that symbol of suffering and sacrifice. Those who begin in humility and poverty, seek to forget or disguise their beginning when they climb to heights of respectability and worldly recognition. Their set of values is altered. Their faith in God is supplanted by their trust in organizers. In a desire to lend glamor to the party they discard the raiment washed white in the blood of the Lamb, and substitute for it the stolen livery of Satan. The simple story of the cross is embellished and adorned with all of the trappings of the stage and theater. The "Good News" is presented in full color and rotogravure.

     The modern party known as "The Church of Christ" is a good illustration of what we mean. It is one of several groups resulting from a restoration movement begun a century and a half ago. This movement was inaugurated by consecrated men in the Presbyterian, Methodist and Baptist communions to promote the unity of the Christians in all sects by pleading for a restoration of the primitive order of things. It is a tragedy of this age that this noble experiment ran aground upon the rocks of human passion and was battered into fragments and splintered by the breakers of partisanship and animosity. As is ever the case "The Church of Christ" has now crystallized into a competitive sect, vying with other parties in a decadent Christianity for popular favor, membership and money.

     This is a grave charge, but the proof is evident. It is observable in the publicity accorded movie stars, athletes and prominent figures in the political or business world. It would appear that one becomes the subject of spiritual growth by the ability to drive a golf ball, run a fast mile, or croon a love song. The huckstering of such talents, and the basking in the reflected glory of the world, is a symptom of deep seated spiritual illness.

     The charge is sustained by the eagerness to get newspaper space for accounts of sumptuous banquets held in luxury hotels, at which prominent figures in church life are given special citations, and have plaques presented to them by church-related institutions. At such meetings political big-wigs are present, governors, senators and lesser lights, all speaking in commendatory fashion and lauding the attainments of the clergyman. There has been a recent rash of honorary degrees. Men are now accorded the title "Doctor of Laws," so they can hold up their heads among the theologians, although they know no more the day after they are marked as men of distinction than they did the day before. But "The Church of Christ" once regarded as a little insignificant group of dissenters, unlearned except in the Word of God, dare no longer play second fiddle in the mad race for modern recognition.

     Once upon a time these congregations emphasized the spirituality, zeal and Biblical knowledge of the whole membership. In those days David Lipscomb wrote of a congregation in Nashville, Tennessee, in this fashion:

     "A church that has to send to others for help to conduct its services in worship or work is not a self-supporting and self-edifying church. This is true, no matter how great the number, the talent, or the wealth of the congregation.... We have scarcely a male member who will not lead in the worship if desired. ...Such a hand of earnest, working Christians is much more effective for converting the world than a rich church of a thousand wealthy, fashionable members supporting one of the most learned and eloquent preachers in the land to study, teach, pray, exhort, and admonish for them, while they live at ease and support him.... The congregation is the school for educating and preparing men for any and all the work God has commanded to his church."

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     A great change has been wrought since the days of Lipscomb. The emphasis is now on the clergyman who occupies the pulpit. His name appears in all of the advertising on the church page of the newspaper. It is the only one on the sign in front of the meetinghouse. He alone of all the members has a house--a parsonage or manse--provided at the expense of others. He receives a salary with allowances for car and utilities. The day of "the pastor" has arrived and members who approved a candidate in a trial sermon or oratorical contest, speak loving and glowingly of "our new minister." "The Church of Christ" has moved uptown. It is now on Main Street. It has wall-to-wall carpeting, cushioned pews, floral offerings and an educational plant with a fellowship hall. In short, it has at last "arrived."

     But there is an uneasy feeling. The speaker must use loaded terms such as "The Lord's people" and "The Lord's church" over and over, as if trying to convince himself and his auditors. Faithfulness is no longer equated with holiness or freedom from worldliness. The deacons who pass the emblems of the body and blood of the crucified Jesus may have yelled themselves hoarse at the boxing ring the night previous. Richly gowned women with gaudy jewels may have arranged a theater party on Saturday afternoon. Those who sit in the pews go where the world goes, talk like the world talks, act like the world acts. They are joint participators with the world in everything except matters of doctrine. Ah, there is the difference! That is what makes one "sound." That is the criterion of faithfulness. They are loyal to the party. They will not compromise one "item of worship." They have a form of doctrine and they will defend it come what may.      The members now approve themselves as ministers of God by flailing the sects, by bitterly lashing out at those who use instrumental music or seek to promote the spread of the gospel by societies. But still there is the uncomfortable feeling that the apostles of Jesus might not feel at home with them. The ambassadors of heaven might seem out of place, for this method of approving one as a minister of God would appear strange to them. It was one of those apostles who wrote:

     "I prove myself at all points a true minister of God, by my great endurance, by suffering, by troubles, by calamities, by lashes, by imprisonment; mobbed, toiling, sleepless, starving . . . amid honour and dishonour, amid evil report and good report, an 'impostor' but honest, 'unknown' but well-known, dying but here I am alive, chastened but not killed, grieved but always glad, a 'pauper' but the means of wealth to many, without a penny but possessed of everything."

     "The Church of Christ" should face up to the facts of life. It is not a reproduction of the primitive ekklesia of God. The things the brethren boast about are symptoms of their weakness. Orphan homes operated for profit and gain are living monuments to a lack of love in the homes of those whose hearts have grown smaller as their houses grew larger. Colleges to train servants for the local churches testify to a breakdown of congregational strength and function. Men must be sent away, out of the community, out from under the local eldership, to be reared by a handmaid, a foster mother, an alma mater. The hired clergymen, professional pulpiteers coming for a salary and departing when it is cut off, are eloquent witnesses to the infirmity and inferiority of the members who can no longer stand or walk by themselves and who must be spoon fed by another acting as a qualified baby sitter. Kermit Eby, a member of the Church of the Brethren, puts it this way:

     "Professionals are those we hire and pay to give religious expression, when we no longer believe anything enough to give expression to it ourselves. It is impossible for me to conceive of an individual believing something and not wishing to share it."

     If the day ever comes that members become ashamed of their human organizations and professional clergymen; if they apologize for them and weepingly confess that they are crutches contrived because of weakness and inability there

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will be hope. If they regard these as stays and supports for a period of invalidism and sickness and have an urgent desire to walk without them and dispense with them as soon as possible, recovery may come. But so long as they brag about these symbols of spiritual deficiency and decadence, they will grow farther from God's ideal, for their pride is in what they ought to be ashamed of!