All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.
Matthew 28:18–20
Two pastors were sitting in a packed stadium watching a college football game. Suddenly one turned to his colleague. “I hate football,” he remarked candidly. Then in response to his friend’s astonished, inquisitive expression, he added, “But I love to be where people are excited about something.”
Why does it seem that the only aspect of contemporary life that excites people is entertainment? Why does a sporting event seem to generate more excitement—even among Christians!—than church? And what can we do to rekindle a heightened enthusiasm about being in the community of faith?
In chapter 9 we pointed to the importance of cultivating a renewed understanding of the nature and task of the church as the pioneer community. Now we take the discussion a step further. In this chapter we direct our attention to our participation in that community. Specifically, we explore three themes:
Membership in the Community
As Christians, we belong to God’s pioneer community. This statement, however, raises the question as to the form participation in the church ought to take. And discussions of this issue invariably lead to the matter of church membership. Does the focus of participation in Christ’s community lie in our being a member of a specific congregation?
Many Christians assume that the answer is yes. They automatically connect belonging to the fellowship of Christ with being listed on the roll of a local church. Of course, an unequivocal affirmation of this viewpoint poses a danger. We dare not equate having our name on a membership list with actual participation in God’s eschatological community. We are not saved by church membership. Our eternal destiny is not secured by joining a local congregation.
Nevertheless, the connection Christians often assume between church membership and belonging to Christ does harbor an important truth. We are surely not misguided if we realize that ultimately we only participate in Christ’s body as we become part of a local fellowship. As we have noted repeatedly in this volume, coming to Christ entails belonging to a people.
But what about membership as it is practiced by many organized churches today? What does the formal act of joining a congregation have to do with participation in the pioneer community? In short, we must explore the
of church membership.
Why Membership?
No doubt we have all at one time or another asked about the “why?” of church membership. Why should we concern ourselves with this topic? Why bother with some mere formality? Isn’t simply becoming a Christian sufficient? What additional value—if any—does the act of joining a church offer?
Christians who reject church membership often appeal to the practices of the early church. “Why don’t we merely return to the simple pattern of the New Testament?” they lament. Lying behind this suggestion is an assumption that the early believers had a more informal approach to church membership than we do today. In contrast to our elaborate structures, the argument goes, the biblical authors never speak of formal church membership.
This contemporary quest for the restoration of the first-century church suggests that our search for an answer to the “why?” of church membership must begin with the early believers.
Church membership in the first century. At first glance, the elaborate, codified statements of formal membership requirements often used by churches today seem quite foreign to the New Testament. In the book of Acts, for example, Luke merely speaks of persons being “added to their number” (Acts 2:41, 47). Although reporting that “the number of disciples in Jerusalem increased rapidly” (Acts 6:7), Luke presents no elaborate record-keeping system. Indeed, the membership processes we often take for granted came later, perhaps arising out of the baptismal practices the persecuted church developed in the late second century.1
At the same time, we ought to avoid oversimplifying the practices of the early church. The New Testament indicates that the first-century believers did have a more formal understanding of church membership than our pictures often allow, for letters of commendation, similar to contemporary transfer letters, were carried from one locale to another (1 Cor. 16:3; 2 Cor. 3:1; 3 John 5–9).
Although membership procedures may have been less formalized in the New Testament than today, the early believers held inclusion in the church in high esteem. Rather than living as “lone ranger” Christians, they saw themselves as persons who had been personally incorporated into a larger community (Acts 8:14–17; 18:24–27; Rom. 15:26–27). In fact, the idea of a self-sufficient, isolated Christian was inconceivable to Christ’s first-century disciples. In their understanding, the individual believer and the community were intertwined (1 Cor. 12:12–27).
This heightened sense of belonging together meant that exclusion from the Lord’s congregation was a serious matter. Through excommunication, a congregation severed their bond with the wayward member (Matt. 18:17; 1 Cor. 5:13). But the ramifications of this act were immense. It entailed more than a breach of human fellowship. Excommunication signified expulsion from Christ himself. Such removal from the sphere of the Lord’s presence and protection made a person once again vulnerable to Satan’s attack (1 Cor. 5:5).
The first century and our situation. Like other communities, the community of Christ is—and always has been—a bounded set. It is a social group with certain boundaries. Consequently, the question of who is in and who is not is important. Some form of church membership is inevitable.
Who Is a Member?
But what determines inclusion in the church? Exactly what marks a person as a member of the pioneer community? That is, who is in and who is not?
Nearly all Christian traditions in some way connect participation in the pioneer community with an initiation act called “baptism.” Because this rite is a sign of entrance into the community of Christ, it marks or symbolizes initiation into the institutional church as well. While most uphold a connection between baptism and membership, Christians are divided on its implications.
The “pure membership” position. Some believe that church membership should be reserved for those who are able to make a conscious declaration of faith. This “believer’s baptist” view excludes infants and very young children, of course. Such persons simply have not yet reached the stage in life in which they can testify to a personal conversion experience through baptism. Because infants are not proper candidates for baptism, they cannot be members of the baptized community.
Believer’s baptists claim that their position is the logical outworking of the principle of “regenerate church membership,” or the “pure church ideal,” articulated by the radical Puritans in the late 1500s. If the church is a people—a covenant community, the company of the redeemed—only those who give evidence of regeneration (or election) can be included in the church. And this declaration is made in baptism.
What may appear to be a rigid membership requirement, therefore, is not motivated by a spirit of legalism. Believer’s baptists simply want to ensure that, as far as possible, church membership is reserved for those who are truly Christ’s disciples.
The “mixed membership” position. Other Christians believe that the church encompasses more than the regenerate. Their goal is not a “pure church” of the “elect.” Rather, the church is always a “mixed company.” It includes others as well.
Who are these “others”? Some traditions include all persons within a geographical area (such as a parish, a diocese, or even a nation) among those who belong to the church. Others limit church membership to persons who profess Christ plus their children.2 In either case, churches that see themselves as a mixed company generally practice infant baptism. That is, they are “paedobaptists.”
The implications of the two positions. By extending to infants the privilege of baptism, which is the sign of entrance into the church, paedobaptists readily suggest that persons can in some sense be church members from infancy. Yet for full participation in church life, paedobaptist traditions generally require an additional rite, such as confirmation. This event—rather than baptism—marks the entrance into conscious discipleship.
The paedobaptist view is a reminder that children—especially the offspring of church members—have a special claim on the watch, care, and nurture of the community.3 (Believer’s baptist churches often acknowledge this point through “baby dedication” services.) Nevertheless, as all traditions indicate, but believer’s baptists emphasize, we ought not number children with the believers until they give public expression to their faith and embark on the path of conscious discipleship.
What Are We Doing When We Become Members?
So far we have viewed church membership in isolation. This may be helpful for discussion purposes. But in fact, membership cannot be separated from the larger whole of which it is a part.
In chapter 8 we spoke of incorporation into the church as the climax of the conversion experience. Joining a local expression of Christ’s church is the final initiatory step into the Christian life. It is the completion of our initial response to the call of the gospel. This response involves personal repentance and faith in Christ as Savior and Lord; it is publicly expressed in water baptism, and it culminates in church membership.4
Placing membership in this context—as connected to a person’s embarking on the road of discipleship—steers us away from the danger of reducing the act of becoming a church member to the level of joining a club. Church membership involves sealing a covenant (a mutual agreement) with like-minded, like-committed persons in a specific location to walk together as Jesus’s disciples.
Above all, initiation into the church is the incorporation into a community. It means participation in a body of people who share a story, a vision, and a mandate. The process of initiation into the church of Christ, therefore, comes about through the combination of inward personal faith, baptism as the outward expression of faith, and membership in a local congregation. Faith marks our acceptance of the story of Jesus for us. Baptism symbolizes our transfer of loyalties, as we publicly affirm that Jesus is our Lord. And church membership marks the public meshing of our personal story with the story of God’s people, as well as that of a specific, local embodiment of that people.
Community Acts of Commitment
We are a special people. Our raison d’être is to glorify God by walking together as a community and thereby reflecting the character of the Triune God, who is love.
Take membership in the church seriously.
All communities engage in certain symbolic acts that represent their life together.5 As Christians, two practices are especially significant—baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Through them we symbolically confirm our participation in the grace God offers us through Christ and in the fellowship of God’s people. Hence, for us these two practices become community acts of commitment.
What Acts of Commitment “Do”
Throughout the church age, Christians have participated in these acts. Yet there remains much confusion and disagreement as to what baptism and the Lord’s Supper “do.” Exactly how do these rites become acts of commitment?
Sacraments or ordinances? A clue to the answer lies in the words we use to designate these practices. However, even the proper designation has been a source of contention among believers.
Many Christians refer to baptism and the Lord’s Supper as “sacraments.” “Sacrament” (Latin: sacramentum) was a common word in the ancient world. Upon enlisting in the army, every Roman soldier would swear an oath (sacramentum) of fidelity and obedience to one’s commander. (Or the persons who were party to a legal dispute would deposit bond money [sacramentum] in a temple pending the settlement.)6 From this designation comes a widely known definition:
A sacrament is an outward, visible sign of an inward, invisible grace.7
Other Christians, however, prefer not to speak of baptism and the Lord’s Supper as sacraments, because they fear the term still carries vestiges of the magical understanding that prevailed in the Middle Ages. These believers substitute the word “ordinance.” This designation is derived from the verb “to ordain,” yielding the following alternate definition:
An ordinance is an act that Christ ordained and, therefore, that we practice as a sign of our obedience to him.
Calling baptism and the Lord’s Supper “ordinances” reminds us that we practice these acts because Christ has given them to the church as a means for us to declare our loyalty to him. Yet Christ commanded their observance because baptism and the Lord’s Supper are beneficial to us.8 As ordinances, they provide a vivid means for affirming our fidelity to Jesus as Lord. Through these acts we confess our faith, and we do so in a special manner.
Baptism and the Lord’s Supper are “visual sermons,” the Word of God symbolically proclaimed, for they present a picture of God’s grace given in Christ.9 As we participate in them, we announce the gospel and bear testimony to our obedient response to the good news. We declare that we have received God’s grace in Christ, and we affirm (through baptism) or reaffirm (by the Lord’s Supper) our commitment to God. As we affirm our faith in this vivid, symbolic manner, the Holy Spirit brings us to participate in the reality the acts symbolize.
Our past and God’s future. But we have not yet provided the complete answer to our question. To do so, we must see how participation in baptism and the Lord’s Supper involves us in the biblical drama of salvation. These acts put us in touch with the past and the future.
Baptism and the Lord’s Supper transport us into the past. Through these symbols we reenact the gospel story, including our death and resurrection with Jesus. Thereby the Spirit vividly reminds us of our union with Christ. And he confirms in us our identity as new persons.
These acts transport us into the future as well. Through baptism and the Lord’s Supper we celebrate that great day when the risen and exalted Lord will return in glory. His presence will mark the consummation of the gospel story. It will mean the transformation of his followers (together with all creation) into his likeness.
The acts of commitment are a powerful means of sustaining this vision in us. They provide a symbolic reminder that our true identity lies in God’s future: we are what we will be. And as we tell the story of God’s saving action in history from past to future, the Spirit empowers us for living in the here and now.
Baptism: The Seal of Our Identity
Baptism is the act of commitment that initiates a person into Christ’s community. It occurs as a representative of the church applies water to a new believer in the name of the Triune God as a symbol of the new identity God bestows on us through our union with Christ.
Our baptism and participation in the Lord’s Supper are reminders that we are who we will be.
Actually, “baptize” is not an English word. Our term is a transliteration of a Greek verb (baptizo), which refers to washing with, or plunging into (literally, surrounding with), water.
Christians baptize new believers in obedience to Jesus’s command (Matt. 28:19) and in keeping with his own example (Matt. 3:13). But why is this important? Why should we be baptized?
Baptism initiates us into a new life. To answer why we should be baptized, we must remind ourselves of what we said earlier: baptism is an act of initiation.
We have already noted that both baptism and the Lord’s Supper proclaim the gospel. They are visual sermons. These acts speak about Christ’s death and resurrection, and they assert that he died and rose again for us. In addition, baptism and the Lord’s Supper symbolize our response to that message.
More specifically, in baptism we give symbolic expression to the meshing of our personal story with the narrative of Jesus and hence with the story of the faith community. Baptism initiates us into a new life.
Baptism reminds us that we participate in Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. Indeed, by faith we have died with Christ to the old, sinful life so that we might be raised with him to new life (Rom. 6:3–8).
Baptism declares that Christ’s death has brought us forgiveness of sins (Acts 2:38; 1 Pet. 3:21). Just as our body becomes clean through physical washing, so also our participation in Jesus’s death, symbolized by baptism, cleanses us from sin. This cleansing occurs because our participation in Christ’s resurrection means that we have received the Holy Spirit (1 Cor. 12:13), who causes us to be born anew. The Spirit within us, in turn, acts as the pledge and power of our future resurrection (Rom. 8:11; 2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5; Eph. 1:13–14).
Through baptism we publicly declare that we are relinquishing all former allegiances in favor of our new allegiance to Christ as Lord. Whatever commanded our loyalties in the past must now give way to our highest and central loyalty—namely, Jesus.
Through this act, we publicly pledge ourselves to God (1 Pet. 3:21). We announce our intention to tread the pathway of discipleship.
This initiation into new life is at the same time an initiation into a new community. Baptism does not place us into an isolated realm of personal piety. Rather, it brings us into a new community, the fellowship of God’s people. Because our baptism symbolizes union with Christ, we now belong to the fellowship of those who have died to sin and are raised to new life. Because this act marks a transfer of loyalties, we now are a part of the fellowship of those who—like us—confess that Jesus is Lord. And because baptism seals an agreement with God, it places us among God’s people. We belong to those who seek to live for God’s glory.
Hence, we are baptized “to form one body,” Christ’s church (1 Cor. 12:13). No longer do we define our lives in accordance with the categories of the old community. Rather, we have passed from sin and condemnation into fellowship with God and, therefore, with each other. And as those who have been baptized, we now share the same story, the one story of the people of God. We have become a part of that community that is defined and ruled by the story of Christ, especially his life, death, and resurrection.11
Baptism promises us a new future. Why be baptized? Because baptism initiates us into a new community. But our response goes further. This act doesn’t only view our present from the perspective of the past. It also moves to the future. Indeed, baptism is oriented—and orients us—toward the future.
Jesus’s story, which we commemorate in baptism, did not end with Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday. On the contrary, he ascended into heaven, where he is seated “at the right hand of God” (Rom. 8:34; see also Eph. 1:20; Heb. 1:3). And one day he will return to earth in glory.
In the same way, baptism is not the end of our narrative. Indeed, this act places our incorporation into the new community in the context of the final goal of God’s saving activity. As we will see in chapter 12, this goal is glorification—our complete transformation that will occur at the Lord’s return (Rom. 8:11; 1 Cor. 15:51–57). Baptism points beyond our present to God’s eternal community. And it symbolizes our hope of participating in that fellowship. The presence of the Spirit, whose coming into our life is symbolized by baptism, is God’s pledge that we will enjoy full salvation at Christ’s appearing (2 Cor. 1:22; 5:5; Eph. 1:14).
Viewed in this light, baptism carries immense ethical demands. This act declares that we are to live in accordance with the new identity God has freely bestowed on us. It challenges us to allow the Spirit to transform us into the community of those who belong to God—which we are. And it admonishes us to live in accordance with the grand vision of who we will be.
Baptism affects our lives. Why be baptized? We can offer yet a third response: because of the effect God intends this act to have on our lives.
We have described baptism as a visual sermon. This symbolic act speaks about the death and resurrection of Christ on behalf of sinners, as well as his future return in glory. Just as the Spirit’s voice can be heard through a spoken sermon, so also the Holy Spirit issues a call through this visual proclamation.
But who does the Spirit address? For whom can baptism become a visual sermon? Who may be affected by this act? Consider three audiences.
Whenever we witness a baptism, we should reaffirm our own baptismal pledge.
For this person baptism ought to be a day to remember. From this day forward, the memory of our baptismal experience should act as a powerful motivation for godly living. Our baptism should continually remind us of the commitment we made to Christ and of the importance of living according to the confession we made that day. But our baptism should continually remind us as well of the Holy Spirit whose presence in us was sealed on that day.
Although he would have been baptized as an infant in the Roman Catholic Church,12 the power of baptism had just such an effect on Martin Luther. Whenever Satan would buffet him with doubts, the great Reformer would grab the devil by the collar, take him back through time, and throw him down in front of the baptismal font. He would then say, “You see, Satan, Martin Luther is baptized.”
By sponsoring this act, we are reaffirming our commitment to fulfilling the mandate our Lord gave us. This mandate includes mutual edification. Everyone who enters the baptismal water is a reminder that the new birth is but the beginning of the spiritual journey. By witnessing his or her baptism, we are accepting the task of nurturing this new believer, as well as all those God has entrusted to our care.
Our mandate also includes outreach. The baptismal candidate reminds us of the many in the world who have not yet responded to the gospel. Through this act, therefore, the Spirit calls us to pledge ourselves anew to the yet incomplete disciple-making task our Lord has given us. Hence, baptism becomes a visual sermon, admonishing us to be vigilant in proclaiming the good news to all people.
Through baptism the Spirit addresses everyone present who has not yet come to faith. This visual sermon depicts the good news of the death and resurrection of Jesus for the sins of the world. And the baptism of a new believer announces the necessity of personal conversion. Consequently, through this act the Spirit challenges those who watch to make the same confession now being affirmed by the participant and the community.
The Lord’s Supper: Reaffirming Our Identity
Baptism initiates us into Christ’s church and seals our identity as God’s people. Therefore, it can only occur once. But our Lord has ordained a second act of commitment that we are to practice repeatedly. Our participation in this act marks an ongoing reaffirmation of what we initially declared in baptism.
This second act of commitment is known by various names. “Communion” emphasizes the fellowship with Christ and one another that this act produces. “Eucharist,” arising from the Greek word meaning “to give thanks” (eucharisto),13 suggests that the act is a thankful celebration of what God has done and will do. “Mass”14 hearkens back to the medieval focus on the act as an offering to God. Following the Reformers we will designate it “the Lord’s Supper” (1 Cor. 11:20). This term anchors our practice in the table fellowship Jesus shared with his followers, especially the last meal with the Twelve in the upper room.15
Regardless of the name we choose, the Lord’s Supper confronts us with the same question we raised concerning baptism: “Why?” Why should we repeatedly participate in this act of commitment? In response, we will venture three answers, before tying the discussion together.
Through the Lord’s Supper we celebrate the past. The designation “the Lord’s Supper” immediately indicates one reason why we should participate in this act of commitment. Through it, we celebrate the past. We commemorate what God has done for our salvation.
The Lord’s Supper commemorates the past because it is a memorial meal. When we gather around the table, we reenact the Last Supper, including our Lord’s command “do this in remembrance of me” (1 Cor. 11:24).
As we commemorate that meal, we symbolically enter into the story of our Lord. We sit with the disciples in the upper room, as it were, and recall Jesus’s teaching about the pathway to life. We call to mind the fellowship he shared with publicans and sinners, which signaled the inauguration of the new community. But above all, we remember his sacrificial death to which that meal pointed.
As we remember our Master in this way, the Spirit rekindles our devotion to our Lord. He leads us to renew our commitment to discipleship. And he strengthens us that we might live as Christ’s followers.
The Lord’s Supper leads us to remember Christ, thereby becoming a visual sermon. As we eat and drink, we proclaim in a symbolic manner “the Lord’s death” (1 Cor. 11:26). We declare how Jesus sacrificed his life. The broken bread speaks of the giving of his body, and the poured wine refers to the shedding of his blood.
This act declares not only the fact of Jesus’s death, however. We also proclaim its meaning—why Jesus died. The poured wine refers to Jesus’s giving of his life for sin in order to seal a new covenant between God and his people (Matt. 26:28; Mark 14:24; Heb. 9:22). By our eating and drinking, we personalize Jesus’s death: he suffered for us—for me (John 6:54).
The Lord’s Supper is also an enactment of our participation in Christ (1 Cor. 10:16). This is vividly portrayed through the ingesting of bread and wine, for this act represents faith. Just as we must take food to ourselves to sustain physical life, so also we must receive Christ’s work on our behalf for spiritual vitality.
The Lord’s Supper celebrates the future. Designating this act as “the Lord’s Supper” offers a second reason why we should participate in it. As we gather around the table we anticipate the future. We celebrate what God will one day do.
When he ordained the memorial meal, our Lord lifted our eyes from the past to the future: “I tell you, I will not drink from this fruit of the vine from now on until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom” (Matt. 26:29). This promise is our Lord’s invitation to see his sacrificial death within the grand sweep of the biblical drama. His story does not end in the past. Rather, it moves to the future, to the climax of God’s program at the end of history.
We participate in the Lord’s Supper conscious of the promise Jesus gave to his disciples. The Lord’s Supper, therefore, is a reminder that there is more to come. It is a celebration of the story of Jesus from cross to crown.
But the “more to come” isn’t limited to his original disciples. It also includes us. Through his resurrection the risen Jesus has gone before us into God’s future. In the supper, he comes to us through the Holy Spirit and announces the promise to us as well. We will one day eat and drink anew with him in the kingdom. We will enjoy eternal fellowship with our Lord.
Christ’s promise, which he speaks in the meal, directs our attention to the future. We celebrate the eternal life that God has provided through Christ’s death and resurrection.
The Lord’s Supper celebrates the present. But Jesus’s promise doesn’t only speak about the future. It doesn’t only create in us a grand hope about a far distant day. It isn’t merely “pie in the sky by and by.”
As we noted in chapter 8, our Lord has given us his Spirit. Because the Holy Spirit is with us, the fellowship Jesus purchased on the cross and promises for all eternity is already ours. For this reason, we celebrate the biblical drama, knowing that what it points to affects us right now and right here. The Lord’s Supper, in short, becomes our celebration of the experience of community in the present.
Exactly what do we celebrate? Above all, fellowship with Christ. This includes Christ’s fellowship with us, of course. By his grace, our Lord chooses to commune with us in the here and now. His presence is symbolized in the Lord’s Supper. We eat and drink conscious that he meets us at the table. But it includes as well our fellowship with him. As a symbol of community with our Lord, participation in the supper signifies our reaffirmation of our faith. Through our presence at the Lord’s table we publicly confess our loyalty to Christ. We reaffirm the pledge or covenant we made at our baptism.
We come to the Lord’s table to reaffirm our faith and to receive God’s strengthening grace.
Through the Lord’s Supper we also celebrate our present community with each other within Christ’s body. The one loaf symbolizes the oneness of the fellowship we share (1 Cor. 10:17). And our eating and drinking together reminds us that the foundation of our unity rests with our common communion with Christ.
Connecting the Lord’s Supper with Christian living. The presence of Christ through the Holy Spirit lifts our observance of the Lord’s Supper beyond being merely a solemn memorial of our crucified Savior. It is also a joyous celebration of our risen and returning Lord who is present among us.
Participation at the Lord’s table is our act. We reaffirm our faith, reenvision our hope, and declare anew our love for our Lord. As we do so, we cannot but thank God for the great salvation that is ours by divine grace.
At the same time, the Lord’s Supper is God’s act. Through our participation, the Holy Spirit powerfully reminds us of our identity as persons in Christ, of our covenant with God and one another, and of our participation in the community of God. By reminding us of Jesus’s sacrifice, the Spirit admonishes us to follow Christ’s example.
By reminding us of the good news of forgiveness in Christ, the Holy Spirit refreshes us in the midst of our failure and sin. By reminding us of Christ’s power available each day, the Spirit encourages us to appropriate the divine resources. And by reminding us of Jesus’s soon return, the Spirit motivates us to hopeful, watchful service until that great day.
Finally, our celebration carries sobering ethical implications. Participation in the supper is a vivid reminder that we can serve no other gods (1 Cor. 10:18–22). No other loyalty dare usurp the place of Christ. And as we eat from the one loaf that symbolizes that we belong to each other, the Spirit admonishes us to be concerned for the welfare of one another.
In remembrance of me, eat this bread.
In remembrance of me, drink this wine.
In remembrance of me, pray for the time when God’s own will is done.
In remembrance of me, heal the sick.
In remembrance of me, feed the poor.
In remembrance of me, open the door and let your brother in, let him in.
Take, eat, and be comforted.
Drink, and remember, too, that this is my body and
precious blood, shed for you, shed for you.
In remembrance of me, search for truth.
In remembrance of me, always love.
Do this in remembrance of me. . . .16
Organizing for Community Life
Every human social group organizes itself in some manner. Groups devise acts of commitment that integrate new members into the group and provide opportunities for members to reaffirm their loyalty to the shared vision. And they devise certain structures designed to facilitate the group in carrying out its purposes.
As the community of Christ, our purpose is to bring glory to the Triune God by fulfilling the mandate our Lord entrusted to us. How can we best accomplish this? What structures facilitate us in carrying out our task?
Of course, we could simply turn ourselves loose to engage in the Lord’s work as each of us sees fit. This approach would fit well with the “rugged frontier” spirit of independence and the entrepreneurial spirit of individual initiative. But it would not embody the biblical ideal of the church as a community. Nor would it ultimately prove successful in assisting us in accomplishing our mandate.
The completion of our corporate task requires that we all pull together. And for this to happen, we must organize ourselves in a manner that best channels our efforts toward the fulfillment of our common calling. To this end, we now give consideration to the two central questions about community organization:
Who Should Decide?
The fulfillment of our mandate requires that we develop certain structures. The goal of these structures is not to squelch but to release all of us to live out our calling within the context of the fellowship of believers. At the heart of all such structures is the question of the decision-making process we will follow. Specifically, who is in charge? Who should decide?
Decision-making in community life. The idea of church decision-making immediately draws our attention to the local church. It raises some questions. How can we best facilitate the working together of individuals within the congregation? Who should decide matters of congregational concern?
Our basic answers lie already within the word we have repeatedly used to speak of the church. We are a community. Therefore, our corporate life, including its decision-making structures, must reflect and facilitate community life.
But we are no ordinary community; we are the community of Christ. Therefore, we look to the Bible—and especially Jesus’s narrative—for insight as to how we are to live as his community. For this reason, we must ask, What characterized community decision-making in the first-century church?
At the heart of the New Testament teaching about community life is a principle that we may call “the priesthood of all believers.” The biblical authors declare unequivocally that all believers are priests (1 Pet. 2:5; Rev. 1:6; 5:10; 20:6). Rather than depending on a human mediatory hierarchy (Matt. 23:8–12; Mark 10:42–44; 1 Tim. 2:5), we all have the privilege and responsibility to engage in priestly functions. Through Christ each of us may approach God (Heb. 4:15–16; 10:19–20). Each is to offer spiritual sacrifices to God (Rom. 12:1; Heb. 13:15; 1 Pet. 2:5). And each is to intercede for others (2 Thess. 3:1; 1 Tim. 2:1–2; James 5:16).
Our life together should give concrete expression to this principle. Specifically, the priesthood of all believers means that all should participate in the fulfillment of the church’s mandate17 by using their spiritual gifts for the benefit of the whole (1 Cor. 12:7; 1 Pet. 4:10–11). In addition, because the church’s mandate is a common responsibility, diligent discernment of Christ’s will for the church should be a matter for the concern of all, not merely a select few.
Take seriously our privilege and responsibility as part of the priesthood.
We see this principle operative in the early church. Crucial decisions pertaining to ministry—such as the choosing of Judas’s replacement (Acts 1:23–26), the selection of the first deacons (Acts 6:3–6), and the commissioning of Paul and Barnabas (Acts 13:3)—were made by an entire congregation. Even the Jerusalem Council did not involve merely a select few but the entire congregation (Acts 15:22). And the early writers addressed their epistles to entire churches, thereby reinforcing the importance of the people as a whole in the life and decision-making of the local congregations.18
This does not deny the crucial role of leaders, however. Our life together is best facilitated when leaders equip the whole people for their task (Eph. 4:11–13). By teaching and through personal example, leaders ought to assist each church member in becoming an active, informed, conscientious participant who shoulders the responsibilities of membership and seeks the Spirit’s leading.
Structures of community life. Facilitating the ministry of each believer within the context of the congregation does not exhaust our discussion. We must also inquire about the working together of the local congregations within the life of the whole people of God. Who decides matters of importance to the church as a whole?
In answering this question, we must remind ourselves that just as no Christian exists independently of others, so also no fellowship of Christians is an entity solely to itself. Rather, each is the local embodiment of something bigger—namely, the church of Jesus Christ. Churches acknowledge this principle by constructing lines of connection among themselves. But what form should this take?
The New Testament sets forth two foundational principles that ought to guide us in this matter. In our church life, we must carefully maintain a balance between a focus on the local congregation and an acknowledgment of the relationship among all churches. Hence, we must give place to both independency and interdependency, to both the autonomy of the local congregation and the associational principle.
The church in Antioch, for example, commissioned Paul and Barnabas into missionary service (Acts 13:1–4) and later received their report (Acts 14:27). Paul admonished the Corinthian congregation to take charge of its own internal problems. Its members were to address the schism within their ranks (1 Cor. 1:10). They were to assume jurisdiction for the observance of the Lord’s Supper (1 Cor. 11:33–34). And reminiscent of Jesus’s own instructions (Matt. 18:15–17), they were to maintain membership purity (1 Cor. 5:4–5, 12–13).
This is independency or congregational autonomy at work.
Autonomy means that each congregation possesses what we may call “church powers.” This includes the “power of membership.” Each assembly may welcome new members, commend to sister congregations members who relocate, and exercise discipline—even excommunication—toward wayward members. This includes as well the “power of mandate.” The Lord has charged each group of believers to fulfill within its own context the mandate of worship, edification, and outreach. To this end, each congregation retains the “power of organization”—the prerogative to select its own officers (Acts 6:1–5) and to set apart or commission leaders for the entire church, within the context of the advice of sister congregations (Acts 13:1–4; 1 Tim. 4:14).
In addition to reminding the Corinthians of his own authority, Paul appealed to what was practiced in all churches as carrying a certain authority (1 Cor. 11:16; 14:33). And he desired that the gentile congregations provide a practical demonstration of their unity with the mother church by taking up a collection for the Jerusalem saints (1 Cor. 16:1–4; 2 Cor. 8–9).
This reveals the associational principle. The principle of association is operative when congregations express their participation in and responsibility to the larger whole by means of a wider framework—whether regional, national, or international. Such associations facilitate congregations in the task of seeking the Lord’s will for his people. Associations likewise promote a wider experience of fellowship. And through associations congregations are able to combine resources in order to engage in the task they all share but cannot complete alone.
Who Should Lead?
We have already mentioned that believer priesthood does not eliminate the importance of leaders in the church. On the contrary, leaders play a crucial role in guiding the people of God. But who are these leaders? And how should they lead God’s people? Again we look to the early church for assistance in answering this question.
Supervisors and assistants. The New Testament suggests that congregational life was facilitated by the leadership of persons serving in two basic types of offices—“overseers” and “deacons” (Phil. 1:1).
Bishops (Greek: episkopos) or elders (Greek: presbyteros), as they were also called19 (Acts 20:17; 1 Tim. 5:17–19; Titus 1:5; James 5:14; 1 Pet. 5:1–4), engage in oversight or administration20 (see Acts 20:28; 1 Tim. 3:1–2; Titus 1:7). They are to “shepherd” or guide the people of God (Acts 20:28; 1 Pet. 5:2). And they are to coordinate congregational ministry (1 Tim. 3:5; 5:17), providing administrative leadership. Their spiritual oversight also involves preaching, teaching, admonishing, and guarding against heresy (Titus 1:9).
A second group of officers—deacons or helpers (Greek: diakonos)—work alongside the supervisors. They can take responsibility for some of the administrative and pastoral tasks. And they should engage in the ministry of the church in its various facets.21
Pastors. The New Testament speaks about other leaders as well, persons whose ministry is often connected to, but not always limited to, a single congregation. The most prominent of these in the first century were apostles, prophets, evangelists, and pastors and teachers. Of these, pastors remain the most significant for structured church life today.
The New Testament assigns a variety of functions to pastors. They engage in administrative oversight, congregational leadership, and “shepherding.” These are augmented by such activities as leading worship, teaching, preaching, and evangelism. By ministering in these various ways, pastors serve as visionaries among the people. Fundamentally, Christ intends that the pastoral office facilitate the spiritual growth of the community so that all can engage in the common task (Eph. 4:12). To this end, pastors keep before the people the vision of community life embodied in the biblical narrative.
Because of the responsibility pastors shoulder and the crucial role they play, no one should seek this office whom the Holy Spirit has not called to it. As Timothy’s experience indicates, the Spirit’s act of choosing pastoral leaders involves two aspects—a personal sense of call and the confirmation by the church (1 Tim. 1:18; 4:14; see also Acts 13:2–3).
We refer to the public confirmation of a personal call as “ordination.” Consider this definition:
Ordination is that act whereby the church sets apart persons whom the sovereign Spirit has selected and endowed for the fulfillment of special leadership tasks in service to the people of God.
Hence, ordination is a confirmation that the Spirit has called, gifted, and empowered a person for pastoral ministry (1 Tim. 4:14; 2 Tim. 1:6–7). Ordination also marks a public commissioning of someone whom the Spirit has called (Acts 13:3; cf. Num. 27:18–23).
Servant leaders. Regardless of the names we use to designate church offices, one theme lies at the foundation of the New Testament understanding of leadership: leaders are servants.
Positions of church leadership do not entail license to promote selfish, or even personal, goals. Instead, leadership exists for the sake of the people. The goal of leadership is to empower the whole people of God to discern and to discharge the Lord’s will (Eph. 4:11–13). Therefore, rather than seeking to dominate the people, leaders are to enter into office with all humility and with the intent of seeking the good of those under their watch care (1 Pet. 5:1–3). Leaders ought to realize that they have not been set over the people but stand with them as together the whole church seeks to be obedient to its Lord.22 To this end, leaders are to be “examples to the flock” (v. 3) “in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity” (1 Tim. 4:12).
Jesus provided the foundation for this understanding of leadership when he instructed his disciples as to how they should relate to each other. He repeatedly contrasted the attitudes of authoritarianism characteristic of the gentiles and the Pharisees with the spirit of mutuality he desired for his followers (Mark 10:42–43). Rather than looking for special status, Christ’s disciples are to remember that he is their sole master and they are all sisters and brothers (Matt. 23:8). Our Lord not only declared that those who would lead his people must be humble servants (Mark 10:42–43); he also illustrated this teaching with his own example of humble service on our behalf (2 Cor. 8:9; Phil. 2:6–8).
As the community of Christ, our goal is to embody and advance the program of God until our Lord returns. Hence, the church exists for the sake of eternity. Knowing this and sensing that God himself has called us to participate in the divine work in history ought to motivate us to enthusiastic action. To this biblical vision of the future we now turn our attention in chapter 11.
Mastering the Material
Having Read This Chapter, You Should Know:
For Connection and Application