Introduction
When Zerubbabel returned to Jerusalem from the Babylonian captivity, it was to restore the House of God (Ezra 1:1; 3:1). The scene that greeted him upon arrival was that of ruin; not even the foundation of the temple remained intact (Ezra 3:10). Nehemiah, upon his return to that city some 90 years later, was likewise confronted with ruin. On the third night, after arriving, Nehemiah took a few men with him to survey the condition of the city walls. One can picture their attempt to circumnavigate Jerusalem by the light of the night sky. In their path massive stones lay where they had fallen 130 or so years earlier. Nehemiah rode upon a beast, perhaps a donkey or ass, while others walked beside him (Neh. 2:12). Maybe some carried lanterns, but regardless, whatever light there was, it served to highlight the ruined condition of that great city. Jerusalem—Mount Moriah where Abraham offered up Isaac (2 Chron. 3:1); a site chosen above all others (Psa. 78:68-69); the place where Jehovah God had set His name (Deut. 12:5); the location of Solomon’s glorious temple (1 Kings 8:29)—a city so rich in history and divine significance, now lay in ruins. We do not wonder that Nehemiah wept at the report of it (Neh. 1:3-4).
The scene which greeted the returning exiles is one which we can easily picture. And yet, if one were to say that this was an apt depiction of the present condition of the church, as to her outward testimony, how would we respond? Ever since the truth of the ruin was presented from the Word of God some 175 years ago, it has almost universally been rejected. Indeed, the characteristic attitude of this present day is represented by Laodicea in the book of Revelation: “I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing” (Rev. 3:17). God, nevertheless, is faithful in His depiction of our true condition: “Knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked” (Rev. 3:17).
In this short pamphlet it is my desire to examine the ruin of the Christian testimony in the light of Scripture, both as to the truth of it and as to our conduct relative to it. I wish the focus to be narrow: the Scriptural evidence for the ruin; its nature and persistence until God’s coming in judgment; our walk in obedience to the Word of God, separate from evil, and in fellowship with other exercised individuals according to the power and unity of the Holy Spirit. It is not my intent to take up the practical details of assembly truth; this is covered admirably by others elsewhere.
The Church of God
Before we begin our subject, we must have a solid, scriptural understanding of the church of God. The church was formed on the day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit baptized the first believers into a new body—this was the day of her incorporation (1 Cor. 12:13; Acts 2:1-3; 11:15-16). Although Jesus is absent from this earth, His church remains. Scripture uses the figure of a human body: the head is Christ in heaven and the church is His body on earth. “He [Christ] is the head of the body, the church” (Col. 1:18). There isn’t a plurality of bodies; the Holy Spirit did not baptize those first believers into multiple bodies: “There is one body, and one Spirit” (Eph. 4:4). We see how carefully the Holy Spirit maintains this unity throughout the book of Acts—the only historical account of the early church given to us by God. The first believers were Jewish, and they were formed into one body at Pentecost (Acts 2). We then see the Samaritan believers added to that same body. It is notable that the apostles Peter and John laid hands on them before the Holy Ghost fell upon them (Acts 8). Historically, the Jews hated the Samaritans, but there would be no separate Samaritan church. Finally, the Gentiles (as represented by Cornelius, the Italian) are brought into the body, this time without intervention from Peter (Acts 10-11). The Gentile was brought in by the action of the Holy Spirit alone (Acts 11:15-16). The Jew could not claim supremacy in the church of God. Indeed, “There is neither Jew nor Greek ... for ye are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28). Christ is the head of the church, and He stands alone (Eph. 5:23). The body is God’s doing; man did not form it, nor does he maintain it—there is one body. Every true believer, indwelt by the Spirit of God, is a member of the body of Christ—the only church membership of which Scripture speaks. Nonetheless, the church should express in practice what is true in fact. “There should be no schism in the body” (1 Cor. 12:25). More will be said as to this shortly.
Before we leave the subject of the church, as figured by the body of Christ, it is necessary to emphasize that there was no equivalent in Old Testament times. Israel was an earthly family united by blood-ties. As a company, they were a mixture of believers and unbelievers—although some possessed faith in God, many did not (Heb. 4:2). A union, therefore, of this nature with Jehovah God was an impossibility. The church is a new body, formed by the Holy Spirit, and composed of both Jewish and Gentile believers (Eph. 2:15; 1 Cor. 10:32). Although we find types in the Old Testament, which prefigure Christ and the church, none give us the one body. To suppose, therefore, that the church is an outgrowth from Israel is fundamentally flawed and a most serious error.
The House of God
The Word of God also presents the church under a different figure, as a building—the house of God. When it comes to the house of God, there is a continuum between the Old and New Testaments. God dwelt among His people Israel, and the place of His dwelling (whether the tabernacle or the temple) was called the house of God: “Then all the children of Israel, and all the people, went up, and came unto the house of God, and wept, and sat there before the Lord” (Judges 20:26). Whereas these where physical buildings, set down at a geographic location, the church is a spiritual building: “yourselves also, as living stones, are being built up a spiritual house” (1 Pet. 2:5 JND). There is still a foundation and stones, but not of this earth. “Ye ... are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner stone” (Eph. 2:20). In writing his epistle, Peter no doubt recalled the words of the Lord: “That thou art Peter [a stone], and upon this rock I will build My church” (Matt. 16:18). The church is now the house of God. It is the habitation of God on earth for the present time and she supersedes all other dwellings. “Ye also are builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit” (Eph. 2:22). We also note that the Apostle Paul refers to the church as the temple of God: “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” (1 Cor. 3:16). The same building is in view, but with this expression the holiness of God is emphasized.
It wasn’t until the children of Israel were redeemed from Egypt that we have any thought of God dwelling among them (Exod. 15:17). It was necessary that they be delivered from that idolatrous country and its prince. In the wilderness, on Mount Sinai, God gave Moses the blueprint for the tabernacle—a pattern they were not to deviate from (Exod. 25:40; Heb. 8:5). Although built by men, their ability was given by God through His Spirit (Exod. 31:2-3). Human ingenuity played no part in its construction. All these things foreshadowed what was to come. “The first [covenant] therefore also indeed had ordinances of service, and the sanctuary, a worldly one. ... which is an image for the present time” (Heb. 9:1, 9 JND). These principles, gathered from the Old Testament, are helpful in our understanding of the New. Throughout the book of Hebrews, the apostle contrasts the earthly figure of the tabernacle with the present reality we have in Christianity.
In considering the church as the house of God we must distinguish, as Scripture does, between the building which God is forming (which will ultimately be seen in all its perfection and beauty), and the church’s present testimony here on earth—that which we currently see. As to the former we read: “Built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner stone; on whom all the building fitly framed together groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord” (Eph. 2:20-21). This building is perfect. It is of this building which Christ spoke to His disciples: “Upon this rock I will build My church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matt. 16:18). Christ is not only the foundation and chief cornerstone, but He is also the builder. Nothing contrary will be added to God’s building. We see that building in her heavenly splendor at the close of Revelation: “Come hither, I will show thee the bride, the Lamb's wife. And he carried me away in the spirit to a great and high mountain, and showed me that great city, the holy Jerusalem, descending out of heaven from God” (Rev. 21:9-10).
In contrast to this perfect building, the Apostle Paul presents us with another perspective: “According to the grace of God which is given unto me, as a wise masterbuilder, I have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon. But let every man take heed how he buildeth thereupon. For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if any man build upon this foundation gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, stubble; every man's work shall be made manifest” (1 Cor. 3:11-13). Although the foundation remains sure, men have added to this building materials that are seriously defective. As with her grand cathedrals, Christendom has become an impressive edifice, but not according to the Word of God. Much has been added which God will ultimately judge and destroy.
Whereas the body connects us with Christ in the heavenlies, the house, as the habitation of God through the Spirit, is here on earth. The believers, of any given time, form the house of God (Eph. 2:22). As such, it is the vessel of God’s present testimony to this world. Peter describes our function in this spiritual house, both God-ward (1 Pet. 2:5) and man-ward. Of the latter he says: “That ye might set forth the excellencies of Him who has called you out of darkness to His wonderful light” (1 Pet. 2:9 JND). There is a conduct suited to God’s house, even as there was in the Old Testament. Paul gives instruction to Timothy concerning proper behavior in the house of God: “These things write I unto thee, hoping to come unto thee shortly: But if I tarry long, that thou mayest know how thou oughtest to behave thyself in the house of God, which is the church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth” (1 Tim. 3:14-15). The church should uphold and display the truths of Christianity.
As something committed to the responsibility of man, the house of God is subject to judgment: “The time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God” (1 Pet. 4:17). Christ is Son over God’s house (Heb. 3:6). We have a responsibility as to the house, not because it is our house, but rather, because the house is not ours. It is to Christ’s authority that we are to be subject.
A Great House
In looking back over 2000 years of church history, we ask ourselves: How has the church fared? Has she been a testimony to the one body in practice? Has she faithfully executed her responsibilities as to the house of God? We will examine, in some depth, what Scripture has to say as to these two questions. Nevertheless, if our eyes are opened to the condition of things, we must confess that the church has failed miserably. The church has not faithfully represented herself in this world—indeed, failure entered very early in her history. The ruin of the church is complete in this modern world, with its multiplicity of sects and range of doctrines.
Before we proceed, it will be necessary to be clear as to what we mean when we speak of the ruin. It is also just as necessary to know what we do not mean. Some reject the expression, the ruin of the church, not so much because of what it describes, but rather, because of how it is expressed. By the ruin, we refer to the church’s testimony in this world—what people see and call the church; that which professes to be the body of Christ. We do not refer to that which God is establishing, which is perfect in His sight. J. N. Darby, who was opposed by many on this subject, wrote: In one sense it is impossible that the church can be ruined; but there is confusion in some minds between the purposes of God, and present dispensation in which man is placed under responsibility. In speaking of the ruin of the church, we speak of it as down here, set to manifest Christ's glory in unity on the earth, and we must remember that there we are placed, and as in this responsibility, there we must stay.i
Take a moment to consider the church as the body of Christ. That body is perfect, undivided, and Christ is its head. And yet, in practice, has the church represented this before the world? Has the church honored Christ’s headship? Has the church been diligent in keeping the unity of the Holy Spirit in the uniting bond of peace? (Eph. 4:3). When Paul writes: “That there might be no division in the body” (1 Cor. 12:25 JND) does that not carry with it responsibility? Paul is careful to say body, not assembly—the latter might have been ambiguous if one chose to make it so. No, it is that body of which he earlier spoke: “As the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body” (1 Cor. 12:12).
We earlier saw that Paul in his first letter to Timothy, his young companion and co-worker, gave instruction regarding conduct suited to the house of God (1 Tim. 3:15). In that letter Timothy was directed to address the errors which were making inroads (1 Tim. 1:3-4, etc.). There was a good warfare and an earnest striving in the good fight of faith (1 Tim. 1:18; 6:12). The character of Paul’s second letter is strikingly different. Paul had fought the good fight and his course was almost over (2 Tim. 4:7). Timothy was now in need of encouragement (2 Tim. 1:4-6); he was in danger of being overwrought by the difficulties of the day. Profane babblings were leading to greater ungodliness; teachers had strayed from the truth, and the faith of some had been overthrown (2 Tim. 2:16-18). There was a form of godliness but the power of it was denied (2 Tim. 3:5). The house of God had become a great house admitting both doctrines and persons dishonoring to God: “In a great house there are not only vessels of gold and of silver, but also of wood and of earth; and some to honour, and some to dishonour” (2 Tim. 2:20). There is no instruction now for purging the error from the house, but, rather, Timothy was to purge himself from all that was contrary to sound doctrine and godliness. We cannot leave the house of God, for we are a part of it; but we can find a quiet place, as it were, on the rooftop in the presence of the Lord. “It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman in a wide house” (Prov. 21:9).
Failure began in the time of the apostles, and they documented it as a warning and for our instruction. Both the Apostles Paul and John had to counter false teachings—while some were seeking to blend legal, Judaizing principles with the gospel (Galatians), others were introducing the philosophical and mystical teachings of the Gentiles (Colossians, John’s epistles). Bad doctrine leads to a moral decay (1 Cor. 15:32). The parties and schisms created by false teachers resulted in conflict and, in the end, division (1 Cor. 1:10; 11:18). Ultimately, the house of God became the abode of truth and error, reality and profession, and a practical expression of the unity of Christ’s body was gone.
In exposing the impending ruin, the apostles did not intend to discourage us; nor did they write so we might have an excuse, but, rather, so we might have direction in an evil day. It is not our place to take up with vain religious debates which foster contention and doubts (1 Tim. 1:4; 2 Tim. 2:23). And yet again, the believer is not to yield to the rising tide of error. There is a positive path of obedience laid out for us in the Word of God. Timothy, for his part, was to rekindle the gift that had lain dormant (2 Tim. 1:6); he was to teach faithful men so they could teach others (2 Tim. 2:2); and finally, he was to purge himself from the vessels of dishonour. For himself, he was to flee youthful passions—a path of obedience cannot be maintained while we are pursuing our natural lusts—so that he might be free to walk a path of righteousness, faith, love and peace with others who likewise called upon the Lord out of a pure heart (2 Tim. 2:22).
With a basic outline of our subject having been established, we must now explore things in greater depth. A survey of the New Testament will show just how much was written concerning the failure that would mark the Christian testimony. Likewise, our response to it needs to be further developed from the Scriptures.
A Survey of the Scriptures
From Acts onward, none of the New Testament writers are silent as to the failure that would mark the Christian profession. However, before we begin with that book—which gives us the birth and establishment of the church—let us turn our attention to the Gospel of Matthew. Strikingly, it is the only Gospel which mentions the church. It is introduced as a future thing in chapter 16; it is again mentioned in chapter 18. Let us turn back, however, to chapter 13 where we find seven parables. In the first we have a sower sowing seed; some falls on good ground and brings forth a hundredfold, some sixty, and some thirty. In the next parable we read: “The kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field” (Matt. 13:24). The field is the world (vs. 38). The enemy also sows, and tares germinate along with the wheat—both are left to grow together. The tares are ultimately gathered into bundles and are reserved until the end of the world for judgment. The third parable speaks of seed again, but just one very small seed, a grain of mustard, which a man sows in his field: “Which indeed is the least of all seeds: but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof” (Matt. 13:32). The growth is contrary to nature, and this herb becomes a great tree, but not for the better. The agents of the wicked one (see vs. 19) make their lodging in its branches. The fourth parable may be given in full: “The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened” (v. 33). Contrary to centuries of teaching otherwise, the leaven signifies the insidious nature of evil, working quietly, and hidden, until the whole of the meal is affected. The woman is used as a figure of false religion because of her seductive power. This interpretation is consistent with every other use of leaven throughout the Word of God (e.g., 1 Cor. 5:6), and it is consistent with the teaching of the preceding parables. Matthew’s gospel gives us the rejected Christ; it remains for His throne to be established on earth. Where God’s authority is presently owned, however, there we have the Kingdom of Heaven—it is God’s rule from the heavens. As a term, it is broader than the church. We observe from these parables, however, that there is a progression of evil that will continue until the end when it will be judged.
Beginning now with the book of Acts, we find the Apostle Paul warning the Ephesian elders: “For I know this, that after my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock. Also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them” (Acts 20:29-30). It wasn’t merely outside influences corrupting, but, rather, from among their own, men would arise speaking perversions of the truth, gathering individuals to themselves. The summation of the church’s decline is not, however, encapsulated in this verse alone. The book of Acts provides us with a bigger picture—a far more encompassing one. On the surface it appears to be a history of the early church—and that it is. But as such, at least from a human standpoint, it is unsatisfactory. What, for example, happened to the apostles? For details concerning the martyrdom of Peter, Paul, and other of the Apostles, we must turn to unreliable, external sources. The historical books of the Old Testament are similar in this respect; they only give us details specific to God’s larger purpose. The book of Acts prefigures the history of the church. Although its account covers just a few decades, it foreshadows an extended history of Christendom.
Returning to the beginning of Acts, we note that Peter preaches repentance and conversion, “so that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord, and He may send Jesus Christ, who was foreordained for you” (Acts 3:19-20 JND). These were Jewish aspirations and a message for that nation. With the final appeal by Stephen, and the rejection of the Holy Spirit’s testimony (Acts 7:51; Matt. 12:31), Paul appears on the scene, “He is a chosen vessel unto Me” (Acts 9:15). In the ninth chapter we have Paul’s conversion on the road to Damascus. There he learns that the persecution he had carried out against the disciples was in fact against Jesus Himself—and not now a man of veiled glory here on earth, but as the ascended, glorified head of a new body. “I am Jesus whom thou persecutest” (Acts 9:5). In chapter ten Peter uses the keys given him (Matt. 16:19) to admit the Gentile into the kingdom of heaven, and then he fades from view. The ministry of the Apostle Paul now comes to the fore, and we trace his history throughout the remainder of the book. The Apostle is the embodiment of that which is unique to Christianity. Without Paul, we do not have those revelations which give us to know what the church is. “I Paul, the prisoner of Jesus Christ for you Gentiles, if ye have heard of the dispensation of the grace of God which is given me to you-ward: How that by revelation He made known unto me the mystery” (Eph. 3:1-2). “I rejoice in sufferings for you, and I fill up that which is behind of the tribulations of Christ in my flesh, for His body, which is the assembly; of which I became minister, according to the dispensation of God which is given me towards you to complete the word of God” (Col. 1:24-25 JND). And how does the book of Acts end? With a shipwreck and the Apostle under house arrest. In this we have, in type, the history of Christianity and especially Paul’s doctrine.
In the book of Romans, where the subject is the gospel of God and not the church, we nevertheless read: “If God spared not the natural branches, take heed lest He also spare not thee. Behold therefore the goodness and severity of God: on them which fell, severity; but toward thee, goodness, if thou continue in His goodness: otherwise thou also shalt be cut off” (Rom. 11:21-22). Israel has been temporarily set aside because of her apostasy; ruin in a very physical way was permitted to fall upon them. The Gentile has been brought into the family of faith through the gospel. Nevertheless, there is a warning; if we do not continue in the goodness of God, He will judge. Can it be said that the church has done so? Has Roman Catholicism? Most reading this pamphlet, I suspect, would agree that she has not continued in the goodness of God; but, what of Protestantism? The condition of Protestantism is summarized in the address to the church of Sardis: “I know thy works, that thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead” (Rev. 3:1). More will be said as to the seven churches of Revelation, but, for now, let us continue our survey of the Scriptures with this question in mind—has the church continued in the goodness of God?
The assembly in Corinth was in a miserable state: in the first epistle there were divisions (ch. 1-4), moral evil (ch. 5), they were taking one another to court (ch. 6), they had questions concerning divorce (ch. 7) and eating meat offered to idols (ch. 8-10), they were getting drunk at the remembrance of the Lord (ch. 11), they exalted themselves through their gift (ch. 12-14), some denied the bodily resurrection of the Lord (ch. 15). Paul’s second epistle is less restrained—the immorality had been judged (vs. 2:6). The Apostle’s concern for them, however, remained: “What concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel? And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? For ye are the temple of the living God” (2 Cor. 6:15-16). Those who opposed Paul continued to question his apostleship, opening the way for false teachers (2 Cor. 10-12; 13:3). He feared lest “as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ. For if he that cometh preacheth another Jesus, whom we have not preached, or if ye receive another spirit, which ye have not received, or another gospel, which ye have not accepted, ye might well bear with him” (2 Cor. 11:3-4). The attacks on Paul have never ceased, and why is that? Revelations concerning the church were uniquely committed to the Apostle (Rom. 16:25; Eph. 3:3; Col. 1:25-27). If one can undermine Paul, his ministry is destroyed, and along with it the true character of the church. Christianity becomes an earthly religion with earthly aspirations.
When Paul addressed the Corinthians, he did not make his words exclusive to them. “Unto the church of God which is at Corinth, to them that are sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be saints, with all that in every place call upon the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, both theirs and ours” (1 Cor. 1:2). Jesus Christ was their Lord and, I trust, He is ours also. By making Paul’s instruction exclusive to circumstances Christians have found ways to limit the application of his epistles to themselves. When the plain teaching of Scripture is rejected, men will be found doing exactly the opposite of what it says.
In Galatia we see a different attack of the enemy—putting the saints of God under law. “Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith?” (Gal. 3:2). The flesh loves to exalt itself and a return to the law is nothing other than this: “As many as desire to make a fair show in the flesh, they constrain you to be circumcised” (Gal. 6:12). Colossae shared some of the same errors, but they especially appear to have been influenced by Gnosticism. The Apostle Paul uses the vocabulary of that philosophy to counter it: “For in Him [Christ] dwells all the fulness of the Godhead bodily” (Col. 2:9). The word fullness (Greek, pleroma) was a clear rebuke against Gnostic error. Gnosticism reduces Jesus to an emanation from a higher fullness. Christendom has followed both paths in the course of her history: ritualism, which is characteristic of the law, and rationalism, which is characteristic of philosophy.
Although Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians unfolds the highest truths concerning the counsels of God regarding Christ and His church, it ends, nevertheless, very practically. “Take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand. Stand therefore, having your loins girt about with truth” (Eph. 6:13-14). Have we stood firm with our loins girt about with the truth? We have read the warnings given by Paul to the elders at Ephesus (Acts 20:29), and prior to that even, he had asked Timothy to remain in that city: “That thou mightest charge some that they teach no other doctrine” (1 Tim. 1:3). And what were they teaching? Gnostic philosophies (1 Tim. 1:4) and the law (1 Tim. 1:7). In Revelation we see the root of Ephesus’ decline: “I have against thee, that thou hast left thy first love” (Rev. 2:4 JND).
In the Apostle’s letter to the Philippians, a letter which addresses neither doctrinal nor moral evil, Paul must nevertheless write: “All seek their own things, not the things of Jesus Christ” (Phil. 2:21), and “Beware of dogs, beware of evil workers, beware of the concision” (Phil. 3:2). It is a book which corresponds to Israel’s wilderness journey. The epistle has, therefore, much to say about the path of faith. “I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 3:14). From the earliest days of Christianity, many have joined this pilgrimage, but they are not all real. Paul felt compelled to warn the Philippian saints of their presence: “For many walk, of whom I have told you often, and now tell you even weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of Christ: Whose end is destruction, whose God is their belly, and whose glory is in their shame, who mind earthly things” (Phil. 3:18-19).
The Thessalonians had not long been saved when Paul wrote to them. In his first epistle he addresses their concern as to those who might die before the Lord’s return by introducing the rapture (1 Thess. 4:13-18). In the second, he allays their fears concerning the day of the Lord. He points out that our gathering together to Him (2 Thess. 2:1), the rapture, and an open apostasy, will precede Christ’s return in judgment. “Let no man deceive you by any means: for that day shall not come, except there come a falling away [apostasy] first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition” (2 Thess. 2:3). Although a general apostasy will not occur before the rapture, the verses we have been considering show us the decline which will precede this open abandonment of the truth. One who rejected Darby’s use of the word ruin and apostasy in connection with the church said: An order of things cannot apostatize, only an individual can do this. The true Assembly never apostatizes. The Word of God never speaks of the apostasy of the church.ii As we have been careful to establish, the true church is perfect and cannot apostatize. However, to say that the word only applies to individuals is not true. The word apostasy (apostasia) only occurs twice in the New Testament—in Acts 21:21 and 2 Thessalonians 2:3. In Acts it speaks of an individual; Paul was accused of forsaking Moses. In Thessalonians, however, it distinctly speaks of the Christian profession.
By the time we get to Paul’s second Epistle to Timothy—long accepted as having been written shortly before Paul’s martyrdom—the ruin is to be found in every chapter. The efforts of Satan to undermine the Apostle Paul had succeeded and people were turning away from him. “This thou knowest, that all they which are in Asia be turned away from me” (2 Tim. 1:13). It is not possible for the church to reflect her true character and hope if Paul’s doctrine is abandoned. In the second chapter Paul introduces the church as a great house, admitting good and bad (2 Tim. 2:20). The third chapter could be quoted in full; it describes perilous times reminiscent of Romans, chapter one. But whereas Paul described the pagan world in Romans, here he speaks of the Christian profession. “Evil men and seducers shall wax worse and worse, deceiving, and being deceived. But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them” (2 Tim. 3:13-14). The warnings continue in the fourth chapter.
One might suppose that the things written in Romans, Corinthians, and so forth, addressed problems that had arisen when the church was young—matters that needed to be set right for the future. Like one learning to ride a bicycle, they wobble initially until their balance is gained. However, we can see from Paul’s second letter to Timothy that the situation did not improve, and, furthermore, it would not. Those things which Paul had warned of, had come to pass. Timothy was now to separate himself from all things dishonoring to the name of Christ.
Paul’s epistle to Titus instructs him to set the things in order which were lacking in Crete. “There are many unruly and vain talkers and deceivers, specially they of the circumcision: Whose mouths must be stopped, who subvert whole houses, teaching things which they ought not, for filthy lucre's sake” (Titus 1:10-11). In the last chapter, a warning concerning heretics appears. A heretic is one who forces his brethren to make a choice (his way or the highway, as the saying goes). “A man that is an heretic after the first and second admonition reject; knowing that he that is such is subverted, and sinneth, being condemned of himself” (Titus 3:10). The history of the church is littered with such men—how many sects or divisions within Christendom bare the name of a man?
The church is not the subject of Hebrews, nonetheless, it contains warning of judgment. “Wherefore we receiving a kingdom which cannot be moved, let us have grace, whereby we may serve God acceptably with reverence and godly fear: For our God is a consuming fire” (Heb. 12:28-29). James encourages the believing remnant from among the Jews—not because things would improve, but rather, because the coming of the Lord was near: “Be patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord ... Be ye also patient; stablish your hearts: for the coming of the Lord draweth nigh” (James 5:7-8).
Peter’s first epistle addresses itself to the suffering of the righteous: “Wherein ye exult, for a little while at present, if needed, put to grief by various trials” (1 Peter 1:6 JND). Nevertheless, it, too, contains warnings for the house of God: “For the time is come that judgment must begin at the house of God” (1 Peter 4:17). Do we find Peter’s second letter brighter and happier? Is there the prospect of a golden reign of Christianity in this world? No, not at all—it is darker than the first. Peter now considers the government of God upon the unrighteous, especially those found among the saints of God. “There were false prophets also among the people, even as there shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them” (2 Peter 2:1). Sadly, many would follow in the way of these false teachers. Instead of being a testimony to the truth in the world, the truth would be blasphemed because of their wickedness (2 Peter 2:2). In the third chapter Peter speaks of three judgments—the first two were past, the third remained. We cannot suppose that these warnings are exclusive to those outside the Christian profession. They were addressed to those who were familiar with “the words which were spoken before by the holy prophets, and of the commandment of us the apostles of the Lord and Saviour” (2 Pet. 3:2).
John’s epistles were the last written—around 90AD. What was the state of Christendom in his day? “Little children, it is the last time: and as ye have heard that antichrist shall come, even now are there many antichrists; whereby we know that it is the last time.” (1 John 2:18). John wrote to counter the rising novelty of Gnosticism. Just like the children of Israel, who quickly tired of the manna, Christendom soon became bored with elemental truths. She had an ear for new and appealing ideas. It is in our nature “either to tell, or to hear some new thing” (Acts 17:21). John, however, redirects his beloved children in the faith back to that which was from the beginning—the incarnation of the Lord Jesus Christ (1 John 1:1). Among its many errors, Gnosticism denied that Jesus came in a human body. Indeed, Satan, throughout the centuries, has found ways to repackage Jesus, either denying His essential humanity or else His deity. In his second epistle, John reminds the elect lady: “Whosoever goes forward and abides not in the doctrine of the Christ has not God. He that abides in the doctrine, he has both the Father and the Son” (2 John 9 JND). The doctrine of the Christ is not fluid—it needs no advancement. Finally, in John’s third epistle we have a situation that became all too common after the apostolic period: “Diotrephes, who loveth to have the preeminence among them, receiveth us not ... prating against us with malicious words: and not content therewith, neither doth he himself receive the brethren, and forbiddeth them that would, and casteth them out of the church” (3 John 9-10).
In Jude we read of Enoch’s prophecy: “Enoch also, the seventh from Adam, prophesied of these, saying, Behold, the Lord cometh with ten thousands of His saints, to execute judgment upon all, and to convince all that are ungodly among them of all their ungodly deeds which they have ungodly committed, and of all their hard speeches which ungodly sinners have spoken against Him” (Jude 14-15). He is not speaking of the flood, for the Lord did not return at that time with the hosts of His holy ones. Enoch’s prophecy takes in the entire history of evil. The evil existed in Enoch’s day, and it will persist until the Lord’s return with His saints (some seven years or more after the rapture). It isn’t a general evil of which Jude speaks, but rather, ungodly ones who speak against the Lord (Jude 4, 8). These are religious men who dare to speak against God and His Christ. Jude’s epistle is an urgent warning. Godless men would creep in among the believers and they would not be immediately recognized. Jude describes their key characteristics so they might be identified and rejected.
The seven churches of Revelation may be taken up in three ways: 1) they may be read as seven letters to first century assemblies; 2) they may be considered for personal instruction; 3) they may be regarded as an outline of the history of Christendom. As to the last, some will reject this interpretation as too subjective. Nevertheless, various reasons supporting this view may be given. First, these addresses are found in the only New Testament book of prophecy, the purpose of which is clearly stated: “To show unto His servants things which must shortly come to pass; and He sent and signified it by His angel unto His servant John” (Rev. 1:1). Second, Christ is walking in the midst of the churches as a judge (Rev. 1:9-16). Third, the choice of seven represents completeness—as it does throughout Scripture; it is fitting that these be representative assemblies. Fourth, John is to write concerning the “mystery of the seven stars which thou sawest in My right hand, and the seven golden candlesticks ... [which] are the seven churches” (Rev. 1:20). Something was about to be made known to John, through revelation, that could not otherwise be known. Fifth, each address follows a very specific formula—very different to other epistles. Sixth, there is a clear change after Thyatira—a change which suggests a timeline. For the first time we have the Lord’s coming: “Hold fast till I come” (Rev. 3:25). Seventh, with the last four assemblies, the exhortation, “He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith unto the churches” (Rev. 3:22), follows the promise to the overcomer. It is no longer a general call, but one to a faithful remnant—again, consistent with a historical and moral progression.
The first three churches represent successive periods: the apostolic church (33AD), the persecuted church (64AD), and, lastly, the church under the protection of Rome, commencing with the edict of Milan under Constantine (313AD). Beginning with Thyatira, which we may identify as the church of Rome (circa 590AD), the last four churches correspond to concurrent conditions, all of which are active in the world today. Each one springs from the previous, not as a development of the former, but, rather, as a rejection of all or part of it. Protestant Sardis (1529AD) rejected many doctrines of Roman Catholicism. Philadelphia separated from the unscriptural teachings and practices found within Protestantism, especially (but not limited to) ecclesiastical truth. Finally, Laodicea grew out of a rejection, not so much of recovered truths, but of Philadelphia’s separate walk.
This is a large subject, and we only have space to consider it in a most cursory fashion. Nevertheless, if one accepts that these seven churches present to us a foreshadowing of church history, it offers an ominous picture—one entirely consistent with the warnings found in the epistles. The apostolic period concluded with the church having left her first love (Rev. 2:4). Left is an active change in position, not a passive one, as the word lost might suggest. Christ would remove the candlestick of testimony unless they repented (Rev. 2:5). The final condition of the church is found with Laodicea: “Because thou sayest, I am rich, and increased with goods, and have need of nothing; and knowest not that thou art wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked” (Rev. 3:17). Christ is altogether shut out of Laodicea, and He stands without knocking (Rev. 3:20). The overall trend from beginning to end is downwards. This then is the final state of Christendom, and it comes with a notice: “I am about to spue thee out of My mouth” (Rev. 3:16 JND). The fourth chapter of Revelation begins: “After these things I saw, and behold, a door opened in heaven, and the first voice which I heard as of a trumpet speaking with me, saying, Come up here, and I will shew thee the things which must take place after these things” (Rev. 4:1). The rapture, and God’s subsequent judgment against the professing church, is supposed but not explicitly given. God will no longer recognize, in any sense, a church standing before Him, when the prophetic declarations as to the judgment of the world begins to take effect.iii
God allowed evil to enter the church before the Apostles departed; it was in His sovereign goodness to do so. As a result, we have instruction from the Word of God for the last days (2 Tim. 3:1). The last days are not a new thing—they have existed for almost 2000 years. We might note that the incident with the golden calf came at the beginning of Israel’s wilderness journey (Exod. 32), and yet, God patiently bore with them for the next 1400 years. Nationally they failed from the outset, yet there was always a path for the faithful.
Perhaps one may say (as it was once expressed to me) did not God look upon Israel, that idolatrous, iniquitous, murmuring people, and yet say: “He hath not beheld iniquity in Jacob, neither hath He seen perverseness in Israel” (Num. 23:21). Does God not look upon the Church and see a pearl of great price in all its beauty? Indeed, He does—God sees no iniquity in His redeemed people. As one has written: God speaks the truth according to the perfectness of His infinite intelligence; and it is because it is infinite, that He can see no iniquity in the redeemed people. How could He see any in those who are washed in the blood of the Lamb? Nor is it His mind to see it.iv Does God then not see the wickedness that exists among His people? He most certainly does. But that is a very different thing. We must not confound these views. In one we have God’s people viewed according to all that He is to them—the counsels of His grace and the ransom He has provided. In the other, God is dealing with man in responsibility—according to all that man is to God. When God deals with His people, He takes knowledge of everything: “His eyes were as a flame of fire” (Rev. 1:14).
The Church After the Apostolic Period
There may be an assumption that the writings of the Apostolic Fathers (those who came immediately after the apostolic period) give us a picture of a faithful church—the church in her untainted infancy. It may be a faithful picture, but it doesn’t portray a church devoid of corruption. The church did not remain true to the principles laid down by the apostles. Contrariwise, the writings of the Apostolic Fathers give us a glimpse into what the church had become.
In his letter to the Smyrnaeans, Ignatius writes: See that you all follow the bishop, even as Jesus Christ does the Father, and the presbytery as you would the apostles; and reverence the deacons, as being the institution of God. Let no man do anything connected with the Church without the bishop. Let that be deemed a proper Eucharist, which is administered either by the bishop, or by one to whom he has entrusted it. Wherever the bishop shall appear, there let the multitude also be; even as, wherever Jesus Christ is, there is the Catholic Church. It is not lawful without the bishop either to baptize or to celebrate a love-feast; but whatsoever he shall approve of, that is also pleasing to God, so that everything that is done may be secure and valid. Moreover, it is in accordance with reason that we should return to soberness, and, while yet we have opportunity, exercise repentance towards God. It is well to reverence both God and the bishop. He who honours the bishop has been honoured by God; he who does anything without the knowledge of the bishop, does serve the devil.v The inclination towards a strong clerical system is evident. To limit the administration of baptism and the eucharist (breaking of bread) to a bishop, or one appointed by such, is completely without Scriptural support.
Clement of Rome in his first letter to Corinth says: All glory and enlargement was given unto you, and that was fulfilled which is written My beloved ate and drank and was enlarged and waxed fat and kicked. Hence come jealousy and envy, strife and sedition, persecution and tumult, war and captivity. So, men were stirred up, the mean against the honorable, the ill reputed against the highly reputed, the foolish against the wise, the young against the elder. For this cause righteousness and peace stand aloof, while each man hath forsaken the fear of the Lord and become purblind in the faith of Him, neither walketh in the ordinances of His commandments nor liveth according to that which becometh Christ, but each goeth after the lusts of his evil heart, seeing that they have conceived an unrighteous and ungodly jealousy, through which also death entered into the world (1 Clem. 3:1-4).vi It is evident that the situation at Corinth, which the Apostle Paul addressed in his epistles, ultimately devolved into open conflict driven by jealousy. Clement’s solution (as with Ignatius) seems to have been the establishment of a strong hierarchy within the church. Later he insists, in this same letter, that the apostles, who had appointed bishops, provided for a continuance when those fell asleep—that approved men should succeed to the ministration (1 Clem. 44:2). We find no such direction in the New Testament. In fact, it is rather conspicuous by its absence.
I do not wish to pursue this subject in any great depth. The two examples given are sufficient to give us a peek into the post-apostolic church. On the one hand, we see a decline in the moral and spiritual condition of the Christian profession. On the other, we find that we cannot look to the Church Fathers, so-called, to establish a pattern for the church. We must focus on what the Word of God says in its purity, untainted by the thoughts and ideas of men. Whenever one substitutes alternatives for that which God provides, even if one has the best of motives, it will always lead to a further corruption of the truth.
He that Hath an Ear
For those who deny the ruin of the Christian testimony, their cry is a false one and a repetition of an earlier history: “The temple of the Lord, The temple of the Lord, The temple of the Lord, are these” (Jer. 7:4). When there is partial acknowledgement of the ruin, efforts within Christendom tend towards restoration. The ecumenical movement seeks to reverse centuries of division through union—including the bad with the good. The charismatic movement, on the other hand, says we can return to the happy days of the primitive church. Neither can succeed and both are contrary to the Word of God. God doesn’t restore things to their first estate. There is no suggestion, in the scriptures we have just considered, of a general recovery. Contrariwise, we learn, as from Jude’s’ prophecy, that the evil within the professing church will continue until the Lord’s return.
Some would argue that since God has always supposed the existence of evil in the church, no action is required on our part. But this is not the church of God’s making. All the warnings are against it. Yes, some had come in unawares, but the assembly was to act—they were to do something about it. There is authority in the church of God: “Do not ye judge them that are within? But them that are without God judgeth. Therefore put away from among yourselves that wicked person” (1 Cor. 5:12-13). The assembly at Corinth was not to tolerate such evil in their midst. Israel was a mixed company, but the church is not Israel. The kingdom of Heaven has both good and bad (Matt. 13:48), but the church is not the kingdom. God will execute judgment in this world—“He will judge the world in righteousness by that Man whom He hath ordained” (Acts 17:31)—but that time hasn’t come yet. Meanwhile, judgment has begun at the house of God—it began in Peter’s day (1 Pet. 4:17). For this reason, the book of Revelation begins with a history of the church. Before He can take up with the judgment of the world, Christ must stand as Judge amid the seven candlesticks (Rev. 1:13)—the church in her responsibility as an upholder of the light of Christ.
There is little weeping for the state of things. Timothy was a deeply burdened individual—perhaps overly so—but his heart was in the right place. With Paul in prison, and some of the brightest and ablest assemblies having turned away from him (2 Tim. 1:15), Timothy wept. “Greatly desiring to see thee, being mindful of thy tears, that I may be filled with joy” (2 Tim. 1:4). Again, we have parallels in the Old Testament. In the days of king Josiah, things were in a very bad way. The temple had been polluted and its layout altered. It had become a place of mixed worship (2 Kings 23; 2 Chron. 34; Ezek. 8:7-18). The Book of the Law no longer held a valued place and appears to have been lost, or, at the very least, misplaced. Upon its rediscovery Josiah responds with weeping: “Because thine heart was tender, and thou hast humbled thyself before the Lord, when thou heardest what I spake against this place, and against the inhabitants thereof, that they should become a desolation and a curse, and hast rent thy clothes, and wept before Me; I also have heard thee, saith the Lord” (2 Kings 22:19). Restoration begins with individuals exercised by the Word of God through the Holy Spirit. A few years later Ezekiel wrote: “Show the house to the house of Israel, that they may be ashamed of their iniquities: and let them measure the pattern” (Ezek. 43:10)—all must be measured against the pattern, the Word of God, and it must be allowed to judge the heart. Unless it brings godly sorrow, any action on our part will spring from a wrong motive. There was a remarkable revival in Josiah’s day, but it was quite limited—many feigned repentance (Jer. 3:10). It is easy to weep because things aren’t the way we want them—or because we recall better days (Ezra 3:12). To weep, however, because we have accepted God’s judgment against ourselves involves a work of God in our hearts (Heb. 12:17; 2 Cor. 7:9-11). Repentance is to take God’s side against oneself. One so exercised cannot look upon the professing church, and not fail to see that it bears little resemblance to that which God established at the beginning. Having examined the Scriptures, they will recognize that God forewarned of this state of things, and that He also showed them the path forward amid the ruin.
Earlier we considered Paul’s instruction to Timothy, how he was to separate from the vessels of dishonor. In his first letter, the Apostle had mentioned two men: “Hymenaeus and Alexander; whom I have delivered unto Satan, that they may learn not to blaspheme” (1 Tim. 1:20). In his second, we read of them again. Of Hymenaeus he says: “Their word will spread as a gangrene; of whom is Hymenaeus and Philetus” (2 Tim. 2:17). Gangrene occurs when a part of the living body dies—this would be the effect of these false teachers on the professing Christian body. As for Alexander, Paul writes: “Alexander the coppersmith did me much evil: the Lord reward him according to his works” (2 Tim. 4:14). The unreprovable must, at some point, be left to their own devices and the governmental consequences which flow from them. This principle is also borne out in the Old Testament: “Ephraim is joined to idols: let him alone” (Hos. 4:17). Jeremiah is instructed not to pray for Judah: “Therefore pray not thou for this people, neither lift up cry nor prayer for them, neither make intercession to Me: for I will not hear thee” (Jer. 7:16). In each of the addresses to the seven churches there is a call to “he that hath an ear” and a promise to the overcomer. In the first three churches the call precedes the promise to the overcomer—it is a general call. When we come to the last four churches (those which typify the present day) the call follows the promise to the overcomer. The overcomer alone has the discernment to hear what the Spirit says to the churches. This is the position in which Timothy found himself.
Separation is always connected with the house of God, never the body. One cannot separate from the body, nor even within the body—it would be nonsensical to speak of it. The body is composed of those who are true, although, they may be going on in a bad way. One can be a member of the body, and yet behave worse than an infidel (1 Tim. 5:8). A great house, on the other hand, contains empty profession as well as that which is real. We can’t always tell the saved from the unsaved, but God surely can; that we must leave with Him. “Nevertheless the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, The Lord knoweth them that are His” (2 Tim. 2:19). For our part the instruction is clear: “Let everyone who names the name of the Lord withdraw from iniquity” (2 Tim. 2:19 JND). As noted earlier, we cannot leave the house, but we can, and indeed we are instructed to, separate from that which is contrary to God within the house.
Despite this instruction, two principles, established in the Word of God, are an anathema to many Christians: 1) partaking at a table associated with evil identifies me with that evil; 2) unity with God can only be found in separation from evil. We must limit ourselves to a few brief comments—I trust in such a manner to spur further investigation.
As to the first point, this is addressed in the tenth chapter of first Corinthians. Paul presents three tables: the Jewish, the idolatrous, and the Christian. The Jew, who ate of the sacrifices (as with the peace offering), identified, or in other words, expressed fellowship with the altar established under the Mosaic law (1 Cor. 10:18). Likewise, one who partook in an idolatrous feast, even though he knew the idol to be lifeless stone, expressed fellowship with that altar—and, worse yet, the demons associated with that form of worship (1 Cor. 10:19-20). Likewise, to partake of the Lord’s table, identifies me with those at His table and all it stands for (1 Cor. 10:16, 21). It is quite possible to have our own supper and table: “When ye come together therefore into one place, this is not to eat the Lord's supper” (1 Cor. 11:20). Despite my personal motives (perhaps I have the best of intentions), to participate in a Roman Catholic mass, identifies me with that system and its teachings—I express fellowship with it. This is an extreme example, but it is true of any table where I may choose to partake of the Lord’s Supper. In chapter ten of first Corinthians, the Lord’s Table and fellowship are foremost; in the eleventh chapter, it is the Lord’s Supper and the memorial of His death. Christendom may have (to some degree) embraced the eleventh chapter, but they largely reject the teaching of the tenth—almost universally, all thought of fellowship expressed in the remembrance of the Lord is rejected, or, at least, the consequences of it.
As to the second point, any fellowship with God must be founded upon holiness. Yet, to separate, it will be said, is to be judgmental. Various verses are invoked by those who say we must not judge. Two commonly used verses are: “Judge not, that ye be not judged” (Matt. 7:1), and “Thou art inexcusable, O man, whosoever thou art that judgest: for wherein thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things” (Rom. 2:1). These verses speak of hypocritical judgment—truly, we should not hold others to a different standard than ourselves; if we do, we only condemn ourselves. Neither, however, forbids us from forming necessary judgments. Matthew chapter seven is a case in point. A little further in that same dialog we read: “Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves. Ye shall know them by their fruits” (Matt. 7:15). How do we identify false prophets? We recognize them by their fruits. It is clear, therefore, that we are to judge people by their fruits, and that we must act towards them accordingly. There are multiple instances in Scripture where we are called upon to judge—individually, or as an assembly. “What have I to do to judge them also that are without? Do not ye judge them that are within?” (1 Cor. 5:12). “Let the prophets speak two or three, and let the other judge” (1 Cor. 14:29). “Believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God: because many false prophets are gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1). Paul told Timothy not to be hasty in laying hands on (identifying with) others; in so doing, he may become a partaker in their sins (1 Tim. 5:22). On the positive side, however, he wrote: “Likewise also the good works of some are manifest beforehand; and they that are otherwise cannot be hid” (1 Tim. 5:25). That is to say, the heart ultimately exposes itself, whether of righteousness in good, or of unrighteousness in wickedness. We cannot, however, judge motives—that is to say, the hidden springs of a person’s actions. “Judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts” (1 Cor. 4:5).
The refrain of the Western world is everyone according to the dictates of his or her own conscience. It is summed up in the attitudes: I will judge for myself, and don’t judge me. The spirit of the day has permeated Christendom. Anything that I disagree with becomes a matter of conscience. However, it isn’t the conscience at all. Personal judgment now takes the place of conscience. True conscience is always true to God. This attitude parallels Israel’s low state as found at the end of Judges: “In those days there was no king in Israel: every man did that which was right in his own eyes” (Judges 21:25 JND). It wasn’t appropriate for Israel, and it doesn’t suit the church of God. Christ is still the head of His church, He is still Son over God’s house, and the Holy Spirit is still present here on earth. Failure does not remove responsibility. The judgments we form must be according to the Word of God.
If we truly recognized that we are a heavenly people, many questions concerning separation would be resolved. God “hath raised us up together, and made us sit together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus” (Eph. 2:6). Paul’s ministry connects us with a heavenly, glorified Christ. Israel was separated from the nations to be a peculiar people to Jehovah God. “Thou art an holy people unto Jehovah thy God, and Jehovah hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people unto Himself, above all the nations that are upon the earth” (Deut. 14:2). We have been separated from this world to be a peculiar people unto God. “Ye are ... an holy nation, a peculiar people; that ye should show forth the praises of Him who hath called you out of darkness into His marvellous light” (1 Pet. 2:9). We are to walk in separation from this world although we live in it—we cannot leave it. And when the mass of Christendom has formed an alliance with it, we, too, must walk in separation from them.
Before departing from this question of separation, one may ask, What about preaching to the lost? If we are to separate from evil, how do we reach the unsaved. The perception of the church and its function has been tainted by centuries of misunderstanding—so much so, that the very word (as used in modern languages) has almost no connection with its original meaning. The church is not a building where the lost come to be saved. The church (in its local aspect) is the body of believers at a locality. There is a within and a without. The evangelist goes out to bring in the lost sheep. “I am the door: by Me if any man enter in, he shall be saved, and shall go in and out, and find pasture” (John 10:9). This doesn’t mean that a building used by the assembly cannot also be used for preaching the gospel—once again, the building is not the church. Nor does it mean that there shouldn’t be regular gospel meetings. Our children need to hear the gospel, and this is one occasion where it may be both heard and taught.
Those who Call on the Lord out of a Pure Heart
Although Timothy was to “depart from iniquity” and “purge himself from” vessels of dishonour, he wasn’t expected to walk alone. Timothy was to: “Follow righteousness, faith, charity, peace, with them that call on the Lord out of a pure heart” (2 Tim. 2:22). It may seem presumptuous to identify with those who call on the Lord out of a pure heart, but God doesn’t give us instruction that we cannot follow. Nor does He give us instruction that will puff us up—it is a day of humility, not of reigning (1 Cor. 4:7-13). There is nothing self-exalting about an obedient walk amidst failure. Just as with Nehemiah’s survey of the city by night, such a walk only serves to highlight the ruined condition of things. There should be a sense of the sorrow that the declension causes the Lord Jesus Christ, the head of the church. All this stands in contrast to Laodicea where the ruin is denied, and, in its place, there is boasting. It is a false humility that says we cannot obey this verse for it is a mind that sets itself against God.
Sadly, nothing in Scripture—neither in the New Testament nor in the Old—suggests that the mass of God’s people ever respond to His call for repentance. The people who returned with Zerubbabel to rebuild the temple numbered a little more than 42,000 (Ezra 2:64); and their efforts were rather feeble. Even less returned with Ezra, and they were families rather than towns—the exercise had become individual. Nevertheless, God honored what was of faith: “Who hath despised the day of small things?” (Zech. 4:10). Everything points to a rather small, despised company, nonetheless, Haggai could still say: “I am with you, saith the Lord of Hosts: According to the word that I covenanted with you when ye came out of Egypt, so My Spirit remaineth among you: fear ye not” (Haggai 2:4-5). Christ is just as sufficient for His company now as at the first, and His Spirit remains among them. Although multitudes responded to John the Baptist—“Preaching the baptism of repentance for the remission of sins” (Luke 3:3)—the response with many was disingenuous: “O generation of vipers, who hath warned you to flee from the wrath to come? Bring forth therefore fruits worthy of repentance, and begin not to say within yourselves, We have Abraham to our father” (Luke 3:7-8). Nevertheless, the Lord Jesus took His place among the faithful few, identifying with them in baptism, not because of repentance, but rather, “to fulfil all righteousness” (Matt. 3:15). In Psalm 16, the Spirit of Christ calls them: “the saints that are in the earth, and to the excellent, in whom is all My delight” (Psa. 16:3). That was God’s approbation, not their own.
So, what is our course of action? Do we seek likeminded individuals and establish a fellowship? It is one thing to go on with similarly exercised Christians, but that does not make an assembly. There is only one fellowship; we do not create it. Rather, we are called into it. “God is faithful, by whom ye were called unto the fellowship of His Son Jesus Christ our Lord” (1 Cor. 1:9). If we are walking in the good of His fellowship, we will be found with other believers, gathered on divine ground. “Where two or three are gathered together unto My name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matt. 18:20). A fellowship was recently established in my neighborhood—they used the word fellowship in their name. Their goal and mission are clearly expressed on their website. I do not question their motive nor sincerity of heart—nor even that good may come of it—but they are not a church. They have established a fellowship based on the shared goals of certain individuals. Consequently, it perpetuates sectarianism. What defines a sect is not the size of the assembly, but rather, the ground upon which it gathers.
Any unity which is of God must own His authority. If Christ is to be the center and power of unity within the church, then He will not be found amid evil. He cannot unite with the wicked or have a union which serves them.vii When evil was in the camp of Israel, God instructed Moses to pitch the tent of meeting without the camp and afar off. “Moses took the tent, and pitched it outside the camp, far from the camp, and called it the Tent of meeting. And it came to pass that everyone who sought Jehovah went out to the tent of meeting which was outside the camp” (Exod. 33:7 JND). We have the same principle in the New Testament. “We have an altar, whereof they have no right to eat which serve the tabernacle ... Let us go forth therefore unto Him without the camp, bearing His reproach” (Heb. 13:10, 13). Judaic practices have no place in Christianity—there can be no mingling of the two. In his second epistle to the Corinthians, Paul, quoting from Isaiah, writes: “Wherefore come out from the midst of them, and be separated, saith the Lord, and touch not what is unclean, and I will receive you” (2 Cor. 6:17 JND). Properly speaking this concerns the world (see vs. 14), but when the world is drawn into the heart of the church, we are to separate from it. Thyatira, the Church of Rome, ruled the world. The governments of this world protected Protestant Sardis. With Laodicea the church has become indistinguishable from the world.
Separation is not the power of unity—although, without it, there can never be unity. Separation on its own may establish a very self-righteous, legal unity, one which is obsessed with evil, but that is not holiness. Holiness is not merely separation from evil, but separation to God from evil. The new nature has not merely a nature or intrinsic character as being of God. It has an object, for it cannot live on itself—a positive object and that is God.viii We cannot walk out of the darkness, except by walking into the light, and it is in the light where we find fellowship with God and with other believers—again, it is His fellowship, not ours. “If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie, and do not the truth: but if we walk in the light, as He is in the light, we have fellowship one with another” (1 John 1:6-7). In the day of John’s writing, many were seeking new light; it was a day of innovation, and of mystical teachings—all of which was, in actuality, darkness. A true believer was not to be found walking in it. If they walked in the light, they would not only have fellowship with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ, but they would also have fellowship one with another.
Undoubtedly, the diversity of doctrines within Christendom accounts for much division. It is a common refrain that doctrine divides. Doctrine must necessarily divide; it is the nature of truth—either Jesus is the Son of God, or He is not; He either died on the cross, or He did not. So long as we are “tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine” (Eph. 4:14), division and chaos must result. Without sound doctrine there can never be unity. Ephesians speaks of “the unity of the faith” (Eph. 4:13). This is not faith subjectively (as in the faith we possess), but rather, it is the objective body of Christian teaching (as in the Christian faith). “There is ... one faith” (Eph. 4:4-5). The church of God was called upon to uphold the truth. “The church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the truth” (1 Tim. 3:15). The truth must not, therefore, be neglected or compromised. We should love the truth (2 Thess. 2:10). How then is it to be presented? When Paul says: “speaking the truth in love” (Eph. 4:15), he is not suggesting watered-down teaching, offensive to none. The verse could be translated, “Holding the truth in love” (JND). The very practice of the truth is to be expressed in love. The teacher must ask himself: What is my motive? Is it love for those before him? Paul could say: “For out of much affliction and anguish of heart I wrote unto you with many tears; not that ye should be grieved, but that ye might know the love which I have more abundantly unto you” (2 Cor. 2:4). Timothy was warned of the day “when they will not endure sound doctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves teachers, having itching ears” (2 Tim. 4:3). This is the pattern we have seen throughout history; able teachers establishing congregations around themselves.
While it may sound counterintuitive, we are not called upon to keep the unity of the body—but we are to keep: “the unity of the Spirit in the uniting bond of peace” (Eph. 4:3 JnD). The body is one, and, for that matter, the Holy Spirit which unites every member in the body to every other member is also one. Nevertheless, there is a diligence required for the maintenance of the unity of the Spirit on this earth. The verses which precede give us the spirit in which this must be done: “Walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; Endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit ... ” (Eph. 4:1-2). In so doing, we give expression to that which follows—those bonds of unity that God has established: “There is one body, and one Spirit, ... ” (Eph. 4:4).
God didn’t choose to set a deputy over His church (as with the Pope), nor did He propose a hierarchy of bishops; God did not tell us to establish a council of elders, or a board governed by a constitution to maintain unity within the church. Instead, he set the Holy Spirit in the heart of every believer. If we are obedient to the Word of God, and if we submit to the leading of the Spirit, and walk according to the Spirit of grace, we will express a unity that is of God’s making and not of men. In the book of Ezra, we read: “When the seventh month was come, and the children of Israel were in the cities, the people gathered themselves together as one man to Jerusalem” (Ezra 1:3). An Israelite was required to present himself three times a year at the temple in Jerusalem (Deut. 16:16)—at the place where Jehovah had set His name (Deut. 16:6). The Feast of Tabernacles was one of those occasions. In obedience to the Word of God, this faithful remnant found themselves as “one man” in Jerusalem. Did they contrive to do this? No, it was a result of simple obedience to the Word of God. It was, in many respects a sorry sight. There was no temple—just ruins with the altar reestablished upon its base. Only a small percentage of all Israel were in Jerusalem that day. Did that take away from the expression of oneness? No, not in the least. True, it was testimony to the ruin; but it was also an expression of the oneness of that nation. When the temple was rededicated, they offered “for a sin offering for all Israel, twelve he goats, according to the number of the tribes of Israel” (Ezra 6:17). All Israel was in view, despite the limited representation. We cannot meet today as being the one assembly, for many Christians are outside, but we should meet on the principle of that unity.
In some respects, this sounds straightforward. Why then do we see numerous independent companies today? In part, it is the result of centuries of confusion and faulty teaching concerning the church. We have a counterpart, I believe, in the Old Testament. With many of the Kings of Judah, kings who truly desired to do that which was right in the sight of Jehovah, we, nevertheless, read: “The high places were not taken away; for the people offered and burnt incense yet in the high places” (1 Kings 22:43; 2 Kings 12:3; 2 Kings 14:4, etc.). These were faithful kings who sought to walk according to the commandment of the Lord, yet there remained a multiplicity of altars—altars, which may have had a long history. The heathen “Served their gods, upon the high mountains, and upon the hills, and under every green tree” (Deut. 12:2), but Israel was not to do so. “Ye shall not do so unto the Lord your God. But unto the place which the Lord your God shall choose out of all your tribes to put His name there, even unto His habitation shall ye seek, and thither thou shalt come” (Deut. 12:4-5). Although there is no longer a physical building, God’s principles have not changed. It is not for us to establish worship at the place of our choosing. In the days of Ahaz (a wicked king) things became much worse: “Ahaz ... shut up the doors of the house of the Lord, and he made him altars in every corner of Jerusalem” (2 Chron. 28:24). This parallels what we find today—on every corner there is a place of worship. It is so commonplace that it is accepted as normal. It seems as if every man (or woman) with a ministry creates a fellowship surrounding their ministry—the very thing Paul condemns in the first four chapters of his first epistle to the Corinthians.
In these Laodicean days, it is not so much a question of abandoning ecclesiastical organizations, but of leaving the innumerable independent bodies which have sprung up on every hand. All division should be judged for the evil it is—and it must be recognized as such and not a mere inconvenience. In some respects, the older ecclesiastical bodies were established on a more solid theological footing than the independent churches that we see today. Not so many years ago, the expression ‘Church’ meant an ecclesiastical body, such as the Church of Rome, the Church of England, or the Presbyterian Church. If I were a member of one of these churches, then I attended the local parish church, it being representative of the larger body. This is called the catholic principle. The word catholic means universal, deriving, as it does, from a Greek word meaning according-to-the-whole. An opposing system is based on the congregational principle. With it, each congregation is an independent body. This, by its very definition, is a denial in practice of the universal character of the one body. The unity of the body is to be expressed, not just within the local assembly (for then it would be nothing more than a local unity), but also between assemblies. When Corinth put the wicked person away from the assembly, it was universal and not local—that individual was now without (1 Cor. 5:12-13). For another assembly to reject the step taken by Corinth would have been a denial of the unity of the Spirit. How could the Spirit of God gather one who had been put away as wicked by another assembly? If this had happened, division, and not peace, would have resulted—just as we’ve seen so many times throughout the centuries of church history. This is the same independence Adam sought at the very beginning—he would judge for himself. And it is this very independency which led man away from God in the Garden of Eden. Independency does not gather—it scatters.
Sadly, independent churches with an open reception are seen as an answer to the unity of the body. Never mind that this state of things—numerous independent bodies—has come about because of a complete failure in the church. If internal divisions within the assembly were decried by the Apostle Paul, how much more so external divisions. “I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same mind and in the same judgment” (1 Cor. 1:10). An open reception does not remove division; rather, it is a tacit acknowledgement of the division.
The modern world celebrates diversity. Perhaps some will say that a diversity of churches in Christendom is a good thing. An appeal may be made to: “Now there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are differences of administrations, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of operations, but it is the same God which worketh all in all” (1 Cor. 12:4-6). “For the body is not one member, but many. If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body?” (1 Cor. 12:14-15). The members that make up the body are individuals—not assemblies. “To each the manifestation of the Spirit is given for profit. For to one, by the Spirit, is given the word of wisdom; and to another the word of knowledge, according to the same Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:7 JND). In the New Testament, an assembly consisted of the believers at that location; they were Christ’s body in that town or city. “Now ye are Christ's body, and members in particular” (1 Cor. 12:27 JND). Never do we read of disparate churches at a locality. Paul addressed his epistle to “the church of God which is at Corinth” (1 Cor. 1:2)—there was no ambiguity in this. The saints in Jerusalem may have broken bread in their homes (Acts 2:46), but there was still one church at Jerusalem (Acts 15:4). For there to be independent gatherings in a city—as we find today with the proliferation of so-called churches—is contrary to anything we find in the Word of God. Christ is the center of gathering (Matt. 18:20). The Spirit of God gathers to Christ, and to Christ alone, and never in division. “He that gathers not with Me scatters” (Luke 11:23). Man, however, likes to make himself the center of gathering. “Master, we saw someone casting out demons in Thy name, and we forbad him, because he follows not with us” (Luke 9:49). One hears the expression planting churches. We do not plant churches. We plant the good seed through the gospel, and where souls are saved, and are gathered by the Spirit of God unto the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, there we have an assembly.
Of the seven churches in Revelation, one answers to a faithful, albeit feeble remnant, walking amid the ruin of the final days of the church’s history—Philadelphia. “I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept My word, and hast not denied My name. Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee” (Rev. 3:8-9). Philadelphia continues until the rapture. “Because thou hast kept the word of My patience, I also will keep thee out of the hour of trial, which is about to come upon the whole habitable world, to try them that dwell upon the earth” (Rev. 3:10 JND). Whereas Thyatira is representative of a particular organization, and Sardis encompasses the progeny of the reformation, Philadelphia and Laodicea do not correspond to ecclesiastical systems, rather, they represent moral and spiritual conditions. Although the general character of the present Christian testimony is Laodicean, we are not compelled to identify with it. If we truly wish to keep His Word and not deny His name, if our desire is to stand perfect and complete in all the will of God (Col. 4:12), then submission to the teaching of Scripture and the leading of the Holy Spirit will bring us into this company. “If any one desire to practise His will, he shall know concerning the doctrine, whether it is of God, or that I speak from Myself. He that speaketh of himself seeketh his own glory: but he that seeketh His glory that sent him, the same is true, and no unrighteousness is in him” (John 7:17-18). As a company which keeps His Word and owns His name, Philadelphia is an expression, though weak, of the true assembly of God with Christ as its head. Such a testimony is not self-promoting—there is no sign over the door saying Philadelphia. Anything which may redound to the glory of God will be akin to that which occurred with Moses: “Moses knew not that the skin of his face shone through his talking with Him” (Exod. 34:29). Philadelphia was hated by the religious movement of the day. Likewise, Nehemiah was despised for his efforts: “Will they sacrifice? Will they make an end in a day? Will they revive the stones out of the heaps of the rubbish which are burned? ... Hear, O our God; for we are despised” (Neh. 4:2, 4). We must own that revival can only come through the grace of God—Him acting according to His divine goodness to enable the saints. Ezra acknowledges this in his prayer of confession: “And now for a little space grace hath been showed from the Lord our God, to leave us a remnant to escape, and to give us a nail in His holy place, that our God may lighten our eyes, and give us a little reviving in our bondage” (Ezra. 9:8).
Conclusion
Although I have drawn lessons from Ezra and Nehemiah, we must confess that the time which truly corresponds to it—when, some 200 years ago, a faithful few first met together in obedience to the Word of God—has come and gone. The time in which we now live parallels the days of Malachi and that which followed. And what was the situation some four hundred years after the close of the Old Testament, when the Lord Jesus was born into this world? Although the religious leaders did not recognize Him, there were a faithful few who lived with the daily expectation of His coming—Zacharias, Elizabeth, Joseph, Mary, Simeon, Anna, along with those who looked for redemption in Jerusalem (Luke 1-2). These served Jehovah (Luke 1:5) and walked according to the Word of God (Luke 2:23-24, etc.). They looked for the promise of His coming, all the while subject to His judgment upon that nation. The Ark of the Covenant had long disappeared, and the glory of God had departed from the temple (Ezek. 11:22-23), nevertheless, Israel was still held responsible for her behavior in that which was identified as the House of God (Hag. 2:9; John 2:16). These faithful ones were identified with Jehovah’s testimony in Jerusalem, and they could be found there despite the failure. Jesus identified with this faithful remnant in submitting to John’s baptism. Conversely, “the Pharisees and lawyers rejected the counsel of God against themselves, being not baptized of him” (Luke 7:30). We, likewise, have a choice: we can reject God’s counsel concerning the church, or we can continue in faith, walking in obedience to the Word of God amid the ruin. We should never imagine, however, that the power is of us. Truly, “we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us” (2 Cor. 4:7). Like those in Jerusalem, we, too, look for Jesus’ coming. Not now to this world, but for His saints (1 Thess. 4:16-17); it is the rapture and the redemption of the body that is now our blessed hope (Rom. 8:23; Titus 2:13).