Colin Gunton, in The Christian Faith has a chapter on “Christian Community and Human Society” which I have found helpful in understanding the vision and purpose of the church. He says:
“The church is the society whose distinctive way of being in the world – distinctive polity, we might say – is oriented to God primarily in terms of thanksgiving and worship. As we have seen, this is not to be understood narrowly but as an offering of all life, so that the question of the nature of the church is best approached by means of a discussion of the kind of social order that it represents. And it is as follows. The church’s way of being in the world is one that corresponds to Israel’s way of being while allowing for the changes that are consequent upon the movement from particular nation to a community incorporating all peoples.”
In other words, the church carries on Israel’s calling to worship God by the way they interact with each other and order their social life together. That social life was lived and proclaimed by Jesus (and summarized in the Sermon on the Mount) as He came announcing the Kingdom of God. As Gunton says:
“…the words and actions which maintain the church in relation to [Jesus] are those which seek to embody in its structures the form or pattern of his career. In that light, the church is a way of being socially whose life is ordered to God by means of words and actions which are evoked by the Spirit’s action.”
How we live together as a church is worship. How we care for, commit to, and interact with each other is our calling out from the world for the sake of the world. We bring glory to God and witness to the lost by our concrete ways of loving each other and orienting our lives around each other as brothers and sisters in God’s kingdom.
Colin Gunton says, “…Jesus is the eternal Word of God in person, yet without being in any way less human than we are; in fact, being more truly human.”
Looking around me and seeing how broken mankind is, it gives me hope to see that this brokenness is not reflective of true humanity, but a push away from humanity. Jesus, in His love and servanthood, represents true humanity and He calls me to become more human by being like Him.
Reading John D. Zizioulas’ Being As Communion and reflecting on community and the truths we’ve learned over these years about relationships and the nature of the Church, I had this thought about freedom:
Freedom is not the ability to choose between different possibilities, but to be capable of communion.
With summer comes vacation, a time to change our routines and relax. But on a recent trip I took I discovered that spirituality is closely connected to routines. In our community I enjoy spiritually rich routines. I have personal devotion time in the morning where I meditate, study and pray. We gather in the morning as a community for worship, scripture reading, prayer and liturgical response. We practice Daily Office prayers and liturgy at lunch and dinner. If we have an evening meeting, we end the time with a Compline. And finally, before bed I’ll often read and meditate on the Daily Light passage for that day. But being away on this trip my routines were disrupted. I was in long meetings all day and had to find a place to eat each evening. On top of that I was suffering from jet lag and didn’t sleep that well, especially since the trash collectors had no shame making a loud racket at 3:00 a.m..
I noticed on this trip, that I’ve thought of spirituality as something that builds up in you. Since my schedule was so discombobulated, I relied on “built up” spirituality to sustain me during my trip. While I had a nice time, I didn’t enjoy the peace and communion with God I usually experience. I noticed my thoughts turned negative and a cloud hung over my head at times. It wasn’t a disaster, but I would have liked to have been more confident in God and more aware of the needs of others.
I was thinking that spirituality was like character. Good character is developed by consistently behaving in a loving way. As you regularly keep promises to yourself and others your integrity is established and you become a reliable person, someone with good character. But spirituality, defined as spiritual awareness or spiritual orientation and thoughts, isn’t something that comes out of you, but something that you enter into. Character comes out of you. Spirituality you enter into.
This is where spiritual and liturgical routines come into play. These routines enable us to enter into spirituality. They help us have a God-oriented mentality, or what the Bible calls “being spiritually-minded.” These routines do shape us so that we reflect in our behavior and attitudes godliness, but since spirituality is something that is entered into, we can’t rely on this shaping to carry us along. Spirituality has to be constantly practiced and entered into. This is why the spiritual disciplines (meditation, prayer, fasting, study, worship, etc.) are vital to maintaining and cultivating our spirituality.
Spirituality is something we participate in. It’s an action. It’s not something you can store up. By definition it’s something you engage in. So if you want to be spiritually edified, spiritually minded and aware of God and His ways, you must practice spiritual routines. I know of no other book for learning the spiritual disciplines as thorough and accessible as Richard Foster’s The Celebration of Discipline. My experience from this recent trip makes me more hungry to master that material.
I’ve been studying Orthodox theology lately, and one of the main concepts talked about is that there is no being without communion. I see some profound implications from that. If being is rooted in will or individuality, then the actualization (expression) of our will (e.g. pursuing our dreams, discovering our gifts, and achieving personal goals) becomes supremely important. If, however, being is rooted in communion, then the development of relationships, journeying together through the ups and downs of life, and relational holiness become supremely important. More simply put, if we matter only by being all we can be (as the Army says), then our own growth and enjoyment must come first. On the other hand, if our identity and significance (our personhood) come from community, then our relationships are infinitely important.
Relationships are difficult because you are dealing with unique perspectives, desires, and will. The blending of these requires mutual voluntary choice and regard. Everyone has to willingly cherish each other and not assert their desires and will over and against the other. Each person has to be valued and loved for themselves and not for what they can give. This requires a release of control and a forfeiture of power.
If my destiny lies in the exercise of my will and personal fulfillment, then I will have a low tolerance for relational difficulties. When I bump up against the contours of others, if that causes me a lot of discomfort, I will have little patience to stay in the game and nurture that relationship. But if my destiny and ultimate happiness lies in sharing and fellowship in relationships, then I have no other option than to work through difficulties and seek personal change that enables me to be capable of communion.
Orthodox theology teaches us that we receive our personhood from one another in relationships. We really do need each other.
Alec Brooks, president of Charis International, recently returned from a trip to Africa. As a result, Charis is now working on another project focused on relief efforts in Rwanda.
Raped, widowed, and infected with the HIV/AIDS virus, these hardworking victims of the Rwanda genocide long for a chance to support themselves and the 125 children they care for.
To find out more, visit the project pages of Charis.
Each of God’s children brings a unique gift to the body of Christ. It is special and uniquely reflects the beauty and mystery of the individual. It contributes something vital and wonderful. It may be hard for us to identify what our special gift is, but perhaps that’s because it is wrong to think of our gift as a special talent or ability. In truth, our gift is us.
What we offer has more to do with our lives in totality: who we are as a person, our likes and dislikes, our idiosyncrasies, our experience, our creativity, our way of seeing the world, and our special approach to things. This is why it might be hard to see what our gift is, because it’s not something apart from us. It’s not something we possess that we give to others. We are our gift.
It is hard for us to see “us.” Others can see “us,” but we can’t see “us” very well. The gift of us is ethereal, intangible, subtle, and spiritual. It is the life-effect of our lives. It’s the bright spot we bring on the human scene. And often, it is only truly understood when we’re gone.
It’s been a year now since Karen’s death. As I reflect on her absence, the gift of her becomes more real to me. She filled a place that enriched me. Her life-effect stimulated and beautified me. The way she was, her presence, her laugh, her kindness, her way, her take on things, her smile – they changed me.
I can still feel her effect. I’m conscious that I’m a different person for knowing her. I’m richer, I’m happier, I am more whole. She has been mingled into my personality and I’ve become an amalgamated soul, so much closer to God and so much closer to man.
Jesus said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, if anyone keeps My word he will never see death.” The life that God brings cannot be extinguished. It is indestructible. It is eternal. Because of God, we live forever, and because of the love and fellowship of the Church we never pass away. Orthodox theologian John Zizioulas puts it this way:
“When the eucharistic community keeps alive the memory of our loved ones – living as well as dead – it does not just preserve a psychological recollection; it proceeds to an act of ontology, to the assurance that the person has the final word over nature, in the same way that God the Creator as person and not as nature had the very first word.”
We find our being in communion. That’s why community is essential. Individualism robs us of our personhood. We are more important to each other than we tend to think. And that doesn’t end at death.
Watchman Nee wonderfully explains the significance of the Church in his book The Body of Christ: a Reality. He begins by explaining the life that we receive when we have been converted from our old way of selfishness to the new way of Christ. When we are born again, we have a new life in Christ and a new life consciousness. Nee explains this consciousness as having two facets: consciousness of our relationship to God and consciousness of our relationship to the body of believers. Having this God consciousness, we are aware when something arises in our lives to keep us from fellowship with God. We are aware of sin and of our relationship to God. With the body consciousness, we in a sense have a pulse on the group of believers around us. We will be aware of hurt and joy in the body just as all the member of a true body are aware when the hand is blissfully typing or throbbing from the whack of a hammer. This is more than just a teaching for us. When we have truly become aware of the body, we do not need to be reminded to love or keep others in mind. It is natural for us to do so.
This consciousness of the body brings about many changes in our lives. We love the brethren, which is not a duty but a natural love, like a father loves a son. All divisions through sex, race, physical differences, and such cease. Furthermore, we do not create divisions amongst ourselves but seek unity and wholeness. We are delivered from an independent viewpoint in our work—the type of thinking that focuses on how I may be made great by my work. We live to serve each other with our work. We see the need to fellowship, realizing that we are not all sufficient. We learn to be members in the body, serving in our specific role and seeking to supply life to the body. We also submit to authority, realizing that it does not come from man, but from Christ.
The physical body is the perfect metaphor for the group of believers that comprise the Church. Just as in a real body, where the head is the most essential to its operation, so too in the Body of Christ the head is of utmost importance. In the Body of Christ, Jesus Christ is the head. Nee uses the phrase “hold fast the head” to describe how we must be in submission and recognition to the head if we are to function in the body. First, all authority comes from the head. We must see that as all our life comes from Christ, so too the authority in the body. If we have trouble with authority, we are not having trouble with a member but with the head. Our fellowship also stems from the head. We are not together because we come from common backgrounds or interests. We are united in the life shared from Christ. This must be the basis of our fellowship. It is important for us to realize that, in a similar manner to authority, if we have a problem with a brother, it stems from a problem with the head, in whom we have our fellowship. Watchman Nee writes that the key to holding fast the head is to let the cross deal with our selfish flesh and learn to walk according to the Spirit’s direction. Without holding fast the head, we cannot be the Body of Christ.
The greatest hindrance to our living in and being conscious of the body is individualism. The only remedy for this is service. Life in the body of Christ is a life of service. Many people fear that getting rid of individualism means getting rid of one’s individuality, like some sort of eastern zen. This is not the case. It is through the obliteration of our individualism that we can truly be free to live as the individuals that God intended us to be. We are free to be unique and open with each other, all the while living for others interests rather than just our own. Nee explains that all service in the body comes from the life that is in us from Christ. The real, specific experience we have with Christ manifests itself in a function in the body. It is impossible to not have a function and be a true member of the Body of Christ. Service and function are interchangeable, and if we have a true consciousness of the body we will seek to serve.
Watchman Nee points out two key points that form the law of the body from Paul’s conversion experience. First Jesus asked why Paul was persecuting Him, not his followers. Nee explains that this shows the unity between the body and Christ. Christ and the body are one. The Body of Christ is a body of unity. The second principle comes from Paul having to be taught and aided by Ananias. Nee points out how Paul, a man used greatly by God later, still needed the supply of another person to grow and work for the Lord. The point here is that none of us act alone, even a great apostle like Paul. We all act as one facet of a body and do nothing of our own ability.
As the book comes to an end, Nee sums up the body in three manners the body of Christ affects us. First, there is the covering of the body. If we do not let the body of Christ cover us, we will only know defeat in our spiritual battles. Satan’s goal is to get us to face him by ourselves, thinking we alone are sufficient. Nothing could be further from the truth. Only by seeking the covering of the body and sharing our struggles can we hope to overcome. Second, Nee explains the restraint of the body. This is the function of the body that smooths our rough edges and works out the selfish and individualistic tendencies in our personalities. By being part of the body, we are pulled along when we feel like slacking and are constrained to our own function when we feel like over-reaching. We are kept in the right place by the other members. Third, Nee talks about the supply of the body, which is the fellowship of the members. This life must flow mutually between the members. If it does not, we bring only death to the body.
In the last chapter, Nee summarizes with the three cardinal principles of living in the Body of Christ. The first is each person’s relationship to the head. We must be in subjection to Christ, giving Him full control, else the body will be dead and lifeless. Second, is each person’s relationship to the body. We must be in fellowship with one another, receiving the covering of the body and not living in individualistic independence. Lastly, there is each persons place as a member, manifested through service. It is not enough for each to receive life through fellowship. He must also bring life to the body or risk becoming a blight on the body that only drains.
By adhering to these three cardinal principles we can live as the Body of Christ. The world is full of strong individualistic men and women living for their own glory and prosperity. As the body of Christ we witness to the new Kingdom’s presence on earth and the age to come, in which Christ will rule as head, not only of the Church, but of all creation.
The uniform understanding of the Body of Christ as laid out by Watchman Nee has solidified a lot of what was only vague understanding for me. I loved his emphasis on the experiential nature of the Body of Christ. It is easy to put things into a merely academic perspective, but Watchman Nee makes sure we understand that this is more than just doctrine. It is a real life. It has real tangible manifestations in how we live and relate, keeping truth grounded in the practical instead of merely intellectual. Nowhere is this more important than in the Body of Christ, the very centerpiece of Christianity.
One principle put forth by Nee that has changed my perspective was the relationship of all things in the body to the head. I have never thought that my problems with authority or with individuals stems from an underlying problem with the Head itself. I have often focused on the obvious physical aspects of my frustration, but I see how often these struggles were rooted in un-surrendered rights. Since Christ’s life flows in all of us, inter-relational problems are in a sense a relational problem with Christ as well. It gives me much more pause and gravity when working through relationships when I truly understand Christ as the head of everything in our lives as His Body.
Another very insightful point Nee made was the covering of the body. I see how many of my problems have come when I have tried to face them alone. They stem from a desire for individualistic glory or hiddeness that will not let me share my struggles with others. As a member of the body of Christ, I am weak by myself. However, it is in this weakness that I find great strength through the covering of the body. As I continue to grow spiritually, I will continue to be more open and accepting of the body’s covering rather than facing things on my own.
Watchman Nee’s book has helped me see our fellowship here in a new way that is inspiring. Our fellowship is a beautiful thing that I intend understand more and serve in as I grow. This wonderful body is truly the work of God, and it is something I look forward to witnessing to and sharing with those who are seeking.
When the curtain goes up this time, we are all ushered on stage. We find ourselves pushed in a human crush down the narrow twisting back streets of Jerusalem.
Soldiers everywhere watch from windows and doorways. The crowd surges past us. Shouts. Raised fists. Parents carrying children. Others carrying scaffolding. Centurions push us forcefully into a doorway, almost knocking us down, blocking our view.
The unruly crowd eventually dwindles and passes. We follow. The skies darken. Huge colonnades of clouds gather on the horizon as the crowd clusters on a barren knoll just outside the city gates.
It’s difficult to see what’s happening from back here. It looks as if they are beginning a construction project on the knoll. Beams and timbers – workmen and soldiers. A small group of women, heads covered, quickly press past us, making their way to the small dark hill.
As one huge beam is lifted upright, silhouetted against the blackening sky, the chattering and movement abruptly stop. All eyes are fixed on the hilltop.
Everything is in frozen frame for what seems like forever. The only motion is that of the encroaching clouds. The biting wind whips our legs. We stand as one person, transfixed in uncomprehending silence.
Suddenly and anguished voice rises above the hilltop and throng. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Then all is dark and silent.
Godforsakenness, torturous suffering, humiliating death. He has taken the bitter cup and drunk it down to the dregs. There was no holding back. Jesus has tasted it all.
Jesus knows the overwhelming sense of abandonment that a five-year-old child is experiencing on a garbage dump in Manila. He knows the despair of a farmer in Chad watching his family slowly die of malnutrition. He knows the hopelessness of a college student in Chicogo who learns his recently discovered malignancy is terminal. Jesus has experienced it all.
And the Creator and Author of this story, through the abandonment, suffering, and death of the Son, has tasted it all too. Our God is not untouched by our infirmities; God in Christ experienced them all. And as the Creator God enters fully into our stories, God experiences anew our suffering, pain, and sense of abandonment. (Tom Sine, Live It Up)
