Theology Central

When I was growing up our church held at least four public meetings every week. During Sunday school the children would be taken to graded classes for instruction while adults remained in the church auditorium for a Bible lesson. Sunday school was followed by the morning service, which featured singing, prayers, giving, and the exposition of a biblical text. The Sunday evening service was similar to the morning, only a bit more relaxed with more gospel songs and choruses and fewer hymns. Sunday evening services could also feature a variety of diversions such as personal testimonies or the selection of favorite songs by members of the congregation. Wednesday evening was for prayer meeting, which also included biblical teaching. Once each quarter the Wednesday meeting became the church’s business meeting, and it often went long.

Besides these regular services the church also participated in an array of special meetings. These were of different sorts. Three merit particular mention.

During the school year, fellowshipping churches in our area sponsored monthly youth rallies. These meetings were held on Saturday evening and were open to young people from seventh to twelfth grade. They were typically held in the auditoriums of some of the larger churches. An energetic song leader would wave his arms through a mix of Singspiration and Wyrtzen choruses, with some John W. Peterson thrown in. Each church would select some of its brightest young people to participate in Bible quizzing, where contestants would compete to be the first to answer questions about particular biblical passages. Usually the church that sent the largest delegation would receive an attendance trophy. Every rally also included something to eat and drink.

The central feature of these youth rallies was the preaching. The preachers tended to be younger and more energetic than usual. Their preaching was more exhortation than exposition. Typically the sermons focused on evangelism, dedication, or Christian service. Occasionally one of the preachers would take the opportunity to challenge “worldliness,” which meant the sins to which he thought young people were particularly susceptible. Sometimes (especially after about 1968) this sort of sermon could degenerate into a rant against boys wearing long hair, girls wearing short skirts, or either wearing bellbottomed jeans. These were among the symbols of an American youth counterculture that was perceived as hostile to biblical Christianity. As with camp, these youth rallies sometimes combined different sorts of fundamentalists who held different values, and those differences left me a bit confused.

Besides youth rallies, our church participated in week-long missionary conferences every year. We were too small to hold our own conference, so we would team with neighboring churches to host several missionaries in a “round robin” conference. Each missionary would speak at a different church every night; by the end of the week each church would hear all of the missionaries.

While the most exciting missionaries were those who ministered in strange and far-away places, our pastor always made sure that we gave an equal hearing to “home missionaries.” These were the people who were planting churches in the United States. We were convinced that their work was just as important as planting churches in Africa or Asia. Since the home missionaries lacked the exotic appeal of many foreign missionaries, their presentations tended to be a bit plainer—but there were exceptions to this rule.

One outstanding exception was Ezell Wiggins, who was planting True Bible Baptist Church in Des Moines. Wiggins was one of the most electric speakers I can remember. He brought personal grace and a sense of situational humor into his presentation, employing his considerable rhetorical skills to emphasize the gravity of the work he was doing. That work was ministering in the African-American community; he himself was one of a cadre of Black fundamentalist ministers who (I learned decades later) were at that time being rejected by the leadership of the Regular Baptist movement. Wiggins had reason for resentment, but he never expressed a shred of it. He was as utterly committed to the cause of Christ as anyone I ever heard. Because of his presence in our pulpit, it never occurred to me that a church ought to be anything but racially integrated or that race should have anything to do with spiritual leadership. I was shocked later on when I discovered that some fundamentalists felt differently.

In addition to youth rallies and missionary conferences our church enjoyed evangelistic meetings every year or two. I can remember two evangelists that we hosted on multiple occasions. One was C. Leroy Shevland, a gospel-preaching artist. Typically the crowd would gather an hour before the service began. We would watch Shevland paint a complete picture—usually an outdoor scene—in less than an hour’s time. During the service he would preach an evangelistic message, then he would do a “chalk talk” during which he would reemphasize the gospel message while doing a chalk sketch. At the end of the talk he would switch off the auditorium lights and shine an ultraviolet light on his canvas, revealing a hidden picture. This was great entertainment and I loved it.

The other noteworthy evangelist was cowboy singer Redd Harper, also known as “Mr Texas.” Harper coordinated a media and publicity campaign that the church had to implement weeks in advance. He would arrive in full cowboy regalia, which made quite a sensation in rural Michigan. He put on a complete show: he would sing and play the cowboy guitar, then he would tell stories about Roy Rogers and other Hollywood figures of his acquaintance, then he would talk about movies in which he had appeared (including Oil Town USA, Mr. Texas, and The Strawberry Roan). Some nights he would play the steel slide guitar, and it seemed that he could almost make it talk.

During Harper’s meetings the auditorium was packed. Many people walked down the aisle to profess faith after his preaching. Few of those people, however, wanted to be baptized, become church members, or even to be instructed in the faith. While many in our church (including me) had great fun at his meetings, our pastor became less and less comfortable with Harper’s methods. After the second year he was never invited back.

All of these special meetings stood in contrast to Preacher Weckle’s normal method of patient, biblical preaching and teaching. While I looked forward to the youth rallies and to the week-long missions and evangelistic meetings, Preacher Weckle’s exposition is what really taught me the Bible and challenged me toward Christian living and Christian service. His example also taught me that pastors must take responsibility for the right instruction of the flock, even when others are doing the speaking. That was a good example.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

Sinner, Where Is Room for Doubting?

Albert Midlane (1825–1909)

Sinner, where is room for doubting?
Has not Jesus died for sin?
Did He not in resurrection
Victory over Satan win?

Hear Him on the cross exclaiming—
“It is finish’d,” ere He died;
See Him in his mercy saving
One there hanging by His side.

‘Twas for sinners that He suffer’d
Agonies unspeakable;
Canst thou doubt thou art a sinner?
If thou canst—then hope farewell.

But, believing what is written—
“All are guilty”—“dead in sin,”
Looking to the Crucified One
Hope shall rise thy soul within.

Hope and peace, and joy unfailing,
Through the Savior’s precious blood,
All thy crimson sins forgiven,
And thy soul brought nigh to God.

One aspect of growing up fundamentalist was going to summer camp. Every fellowship of churches seemed to have a camp of its own. There were also a number of independent camps. Ours was a Regular Baptist camp located west of Traverse City, Michigan. The site had been one of Al Capone’s hideouts during the Roaring Twenties. Michigan Baptists bought the property during the late 1940s. One of the Capone-era buildings, an old hotel overlooking the lake, was still usable. So was a nine-hole golf course with “greens” made of pea gravel.

I’ve already mentioned that my father had building skills. He helped to erect the dining hall, many of the original cabins, and some of the first recreational facilities. After nearly sixty years I can still remember him setting the poles for tetherball and pouring concrete for the holes on a miniature golf course.

Most summers my parents would use their vacation time to work as counselors or kitchen help. While performing these ministries they worked with a variety of helpers from other churches, so they gradually built up a network of acquaintances. We could hardly visit those churches without meeting someone we knew. Sometimes, pastors who knew my father would ask him to lead their song services.

My parents sometimes took me with them even when I was a small child. When I grew older I attended as a camper in my own right. Preparation began weeks ahead of time with a visit to the doctor: a physical examination was required for all campers. There would be a period of several days to a couple of weeks for selecting clothing and recreational gear, followed by packing. Finally the day would arrive for the trip across the state.

Campers were transported on our little church bus. More often than not Preacher Weckle drove. Superhighways were a new thing, and none of them went near either our town or our camp. The drive entailed several hours of jolting and bouncing over secondary and tertiary roads. Campers would pass the time belting out Singspiration choruses or chattering about the activities they planned to enjoy.

Activities were indeed plentiful at camp. Much of the day was planned, but during free time campers could engage in team sports, tetherball, miniature golf, ping pong, leathercrafts, and a variety of other pursuits. Every afternoon featured swimming in the lake.

Planned activities began with calisthenics at the flag pole every morning, followed by breakfast and then cabin cleanup. We’d sit through a morning chapel service, a cabin devotional time, and a Bible or missionary hour. After lunch we always had a rest break, during which we had to stay on our bunks in our cabins. Then there would be some sort of cabin activity (usually a team sport) followed by free time until supper. Another chapel service was the last planned activity, followed by another half hour of free time. An adult counselor would always lead the cabin in devotions before lights-out.

Mealtimes were a big deal. At our camp we were served in a chow line before we found seats at one of several long tables. The food was good, helpings were generous, and seconds were almost always available. This was also a time when the camp staff clowned around with skits and songs. At the noon meal the camp director distributed the mail, including spoof letters from imaginary boyfriends and girlfriends back home.

During those years, the only paid worker at our camp was a caretaker. All other positions were filled by volunteers, usually one week at a time. The cooks, the camp nurse, the counselors, and even the lifeguards at the lake were our pastors, parents, adult friends, and other people from our churches. What these camps may have lacked in polish and professionalism they made up for in strengthened relationships both within and between our churches.

The spiritual emphasis was the most important part of camp. With cabin devotions twice each day, two chapel services, a missionary time, and (usually) some sort of Bible memorization, every camper could expect to be challenged with the things of the Lord. It was during one of those camping weeks that I first understood how the claims of Jesus Christ upon my life were truly absolute. Faced with that challenge, I made the deliberate choice to devote my life to whatever He wished (some would call this a dedication). That was the second time that I can remember responding to a public invitation. Preacher Weckle was in that service and he came and found me afterward. He wanted to know whether I really understood what I was doing, and when it turned out that I did, he wanted to encourage me in doing it.

Camp was also one of the venues through which I slowly became aware that not all churches were just like ours. While I couldn’t have described the difference then, some of the sermons were short on biblical content and long on the preacher’s stories. Some of them were manipulative. In retrospect, I can say that a few were even abusive. I didn’t know it then, but I was experiencing the tension between different versions of fundamentalism, and those differences sometimes left me perplexed.

I doubt that our camp was significantly different from the hundreds of other Bible camps around the country. In fact, as a high schooler I also attended a secular camp once; except for the spiritual emphasis, the programs were nearly indistinguishable. That emphasis, however, made all the difference in the world. I’m sure that some kids’ decisions were based on manipulative preaching or were just shallow. Mine was not. The truth is that, taken on balance, going to camp was one of the best parts of growing up fundamentalist.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

Blow Ye the Trumpet, Blow

Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Blow ye the trumpet, blow,
The gladly solemn sound!
Let all the nations know,
To earth’s remotest bound,
The year of Jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom’d sinners, home.

Exalt the Lamb of God,
The sin-atoning Lamb;
Redemption by his blood
Through all the lands proclaim:
The year of Jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom’d sinners, home.

Ye slaves of sin and hell
Your liberty receive:
And safe in Jesus dwell,
And blest in Jesus live:
The year of Jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom’d sinners, home.

Ye bankrupt debtors, know
The boundless grace of heaven;
Though sums immense ye owe,
A free discharge is given;
The year of Jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom’d sinners, home.

The gospel trumpet hear,
The news of pardoning grace;
Ye happy souls draw near,
Behold your Saviour’s face:
The year of Jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom’d sinners, home.

Jesus, our great High Priest,
Has full atonement made;
Ye weary spirits, rest;
Ye mournful souls, be glad!
The year of Jubilee is come;
Return, ye ransom’d sinners, home.

During the years following my parents’ conversion, our little church went through a series of pastors. Some were more qualified and some less so. The congregation finally called a church planter from the Fellowship of Baptists for Home Missions. He is the pastor who baptized me and who began to instruct me in the faith. His name was Robert Weckle, but the first time I met him he told me, “Kevin, just call me preacher!”

In the meanwhile the church secured new facilities, moving out of its store front into a decaying building that had been the home of a Congregationalist church. The men of the church did their best to refurbish this facility. None did more than my father, who had skills as a builder. I have a particular memory of these men knocking the decrepit steeple off the belfry, then putting shingles on the remaining flat roof. The result looked odd: a belfry rising above the building but ending suddenly as a square stub. The bell still worked, though, and as I grew up I often got to ring it at the beginning of the Sunday morning service.

The city built a fire station right next door to the church building. Every Sunday the fire whistle would blow exactly at noon, loudly enough to drown out the speaker if he went overtime. We became used to just waiting for the preacher to continue after the whistle.

Preacher Weckle was not a great pulpiteer. The main thing that I remember about his sermons is that they tended to be long and dry. His presentation emphasized biblical content. In those days, just about every preacher used a King James Bible. Preacher Weckle’s was a Scofield Reference Bible. He would sometimes announce texts by giving the page number in his Scofield Bible. His goal was to have everybody in the church studying Scofield’s notes.

Of course Preacher Weckle was a dispensationalist. He had a big, canvas dispensational chart that would stretch all the way across the front of our auditorium. Every couple of years he would hang it from a wire and teach through the dispensations, usually on Sunday nights. I was fascinated with that chart, its pictures, and its intricacies. I loved to hear him teach as I kept one eye on the chart and the other eye on the notes in Dad’s Scofield Bible.

When I was in seventh grade I was finally given my own Scofield Bible. This turned out to be a problem: it was a New Scofield Reference Bible. Nobody had ever seen one before. The page numbers weren’t the same. Some of the notes were quite different (better, in retrospect). Most alarmingly, the editors had updated some of the most obscure terms in the King James, inserting their changes between straight-line brackets. As the popularity of this new Bible grew, it created a problem during the public reading of the Scriptures. You could hear part of the church reading straight King James English, while the other part read the edits from the New Scofield.

Though he was not a powerful orator, I found Preacher Weckle fascinating. He had more books than anybody I’d ever met. He knew so much about the Bible that I assumed he had a doctor’s degree (years later I learned that he had only a three-year diploma from the Bible institute). He was one of the few people who could correct my father—an impressive feat in my childish eyes. Most of all, he cared deeply about his people and looked for opportunities to help them grow.

He would sometimes take me fishing along with his son (who was a bit older). Not only did he talk continuously about spiritual things, but I got to see his reaction when his son locked the car keys in the trunk. He passed this test of character.

Our church bought a little bus that the Preacher would drive to pick up people from the community. He would invite me along on this bus route. I’d sit on the front step and work the door as people got on. Here, too, he would talk to me about spiritual things.

I was often in Preacher Weckle’s home and he was often in ours. He created occasions for conversation, whether one-on-one or in groups. He taught me far more in those informal moments than I ever learned in a church service.

The church had its share of services. We had a graded Sunday school on Sunday morning, followed by a morning service that hardly ever ended at noon. There was also an evening service on Sundays, and another evening prayer meeting on Wednesdays. On top of those, there were programs for children and adolescents.

These included a youth hour that met before the Sunday evening service. We never seemed to settle into a regular curriculum. I remember a military-aviation themed program called Jet Cadets, and a different one called Space Cadets. Younger children had a program called Eager Beavers. These programs emphasized Bible memorization and featured frequent “sword drills” to see who could find a given passage of Scripture most quickly. An adult would always teach a Bible lesson. Some emphasis on witnessing or missions was often included.

One afternoon during the week the children would attend “Joy Club.” Every child earned a beanie and a patch that said “Joy.” We would wear these as we sang songs, learned a Bible verse, and engaged in other activities before hearing a Bible presentation. Joy Club had a distinctively evangelistic emphasis.

During the summers our church hosted a Vacation Bible School for children. This program consumed mornings for an entire week or sometimes two. VBS kept a kid moving. An opening assembly with lots of singing was followed by a missionary time, a craft time, a refreshment time, a recreational activity, and a Bible lesson. Every year brought a different contest in which teams would compete over attendance, Bible memorization, and sometimes missionary offerings.

Speaking of contests, every year or so our church would compete against other area churches in an attendance contest for Sunday school. These contests had different themes, but they typically began with a rally day during which every attendee would release a helium-filled balloon into the air. I always loved to see the mass of color as it rose and floated away.

Between regular church services and special youth times, I could expect to be involved in some church activity at least six hours every week—and my parents made sure I was in every one. This level of participation was good for me in several ways. For one thing, I was bound to learn something just by dint of repetition. Most of the theology that I now hold was in place by the time I began high school. For another, it inculcated habits that are still part of my life. Perhaps most importantly, it provided a ready-made, trans-generational social network within which I always knew that I was accepted, which is no small matter for a shy kid who was not popular at school.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

In One Fraternal Bond of Love

James Montgomery (1771–1854)

In one fraternal bond of love,
One fellowship of mind,
The saints below and saints above
Their bliss and glory find.

Here, in their house of pilgrimage,
Thy statutes are their song;
There, through one bright, eternal age,
Thy praises they prolong.

Lord, may our union form a part
Of that thrice happy whole,
Derive its pulse from Thee, the heart,
Its life from Thee, the soul.

Life is full of ironies! These short essays came about in response to the recent cancellation of Sunday services at a Baptist megachurch. I wanted to challenge those who read the Nick that what was done was—perhaps—out of harmony with the Word of God. The first essay stressed the importance of corporate gathered worship as the New Testament model and expectation. Essay two suggested that while house churches may have a limited role, they are really neither the New Testament expectation nor the universal preference of the Church. Just before I sat down to pen this third essay, a response came from a brother who prefers his small, family house church because the money saved on salaries and air conditioning can be used to fund Christian refugees and feed college students who joined his little family gathering. It was an interesting idea but hardly biblical. Not a thought was given to world evangelism or discipleship.

In this final essay, I consider the appropriateness of cancelling church services, whether on the Lord’s Day or otherwise. I remember hearing an old preacher encourage the congregation that “it takes three to thrive,” referring to the Sunday morning, evening, and Wednesday night services. It is four if the Sunday School is added. So, how many services should the Christian be expected to attend in a week and is it ever acceptable for the church to cancel a regular service?

The irony of this third essay is that as I write, the temperature is -27 and much of Minneapolis is closed: no schools or mail service, malls are closed, some businesses and many/most churches with activities are shuttered. Also, last Sunday the weather forecasters predicted a major snow event of 5-8 inches beginning at 3 PM and lasting through the night. Our pastor announced that the evening service would be cancelled. As it turned out, the snow didn’t begin until 7:30. Finally, this week is Super Bowl Sunday—a day which a good many churches alter their corporate worship practices to accommodate the game.

I have tried to make the case that Sunday is the Lord’s Day and it has become the Christian day of worship. The day is set aside as the one day in seven when we assemble together to celebrate His person and work. We need to hold the idea of the Lord’s Day as important if we wish to follow biblical models. But just what should be done on that day is a matter of debate.

In the Victorian era, Sundays were a day of multiple services among Baptist churches. Spurgeon saw that many visitors from across London showed up at his Sunday evening meetings because other churches didn’t have them. Moreover, in answer to the question “How is the Sabbath* to be kept?” Spurgeon’s catechism responded “The Sabbath is to be sanctified by a holy resting all that day, even from such worldly employments and recreations as are lawful on other days (Lev 23:3), and spending the whole time in the public and private exercises of God’s worship (Psa 92:1-2; Isa 58:13-14), except so much as is taken up in the works of necessity and mercy (Mat 12:11- 12).” Wow! We have certainly come a long way if we think that cancelling a church service for a sporting event is acceptable.

Even if we hold to a similar view as Mr. Spurgeon, we still have not answered the primary question—can services be canceled on the Lord’s Day? The answer is a qualified yes. Biblically, we ought to make every effort to carry out the spirit of the New Testament by having a Lord’s Day service, but there may be times when this is simply not possible due to weather, political chaos, community disasters, and the like. The California wildfires certainly affected how churches functioned as the countryside blazed. Our snow event, while missing the mark as to the timing, could have been otherwise. We still met on the Lord’s Day morning, fulfilling the spirit of the New Testament.

A second question to ponder is whether we really need multiple meetings on the Lord’s Day. Getting back to the brother’s email that house churches are a better use of resources, it does seem rather expensive that we build massive structures for a one-hour meeting on a Sunday, if this is all we meet. Pushing back, can we really do an adequate job of corporate discipleship in one or two hours per week? For this reason, at least, most churches offer multiple services for multiple opportunities for Christian growth and discipleship—times dedicated to fellowship, times dedicated to instruction, times dedicated to worship and the observance of the ordinances.

I have never felt that the church services, any of them, were primarily aimed at evangelism, though evangelism may certainly take place within a church meeting. If we use Acts 2:42 as an indication of the early Jerusalem church, it met for the study of the apostle’s doctrine, for fellowship, for the breaking of bread (the Lord’s Table), and for prayer. Can we do all of this in an hour or two? Likely not. Multiple diverse services allow us to accomplish these important objectives.

It used to be that churches had regularly scheduled times of prayer: prayer for the lost, prayer for the pastors, prayer for the ministry of the church, and prayer for the saints. The Moravians had their 100-year prayer meeting. The point of the meeting was prayer. A prayer meeting was held in Spurgeon’s church while Spurgeon was preaching, and he attributed to these gatherings the source of the power of his pulpit. His people prayed for him. Today, prayer meetings of that sort are seldom held.

It seems to me that before we cancel any particular meeting, we need to ask ourselves why we meet in the first place. If we understand why, then perhaps the question of cancellation is clearer. Services that are ancillary to our stated goals may be and perhaps should be cancelled. Meetings that go to the heart of why we exist as a church may need to be held, even when inconvenient, as a matter of priority. We all make choices and we make them all the time. Churches make choices. The why of the service will drive the when and how often. Perhaps we cancel too lightly because we don’t really grasp the why.

Finally, part of the reason we have church is to build up the saints. If we aren’t really doing this, then we need to step back and evaluate our ministry to ask afresh what it is that we are seeking to accomplish. Simply having services for services’ sake is hardly biblical. In the end, there is no easy answer to the question of cancellation. I think this is how the Lord planned it. We should serve Him, worship Him, and follow Him out of devotion, not merely by checking off a list of things we do to please Him. What we value with our time says more about who we are than most anything we say.

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* I recognize the issue of Sunday as the Christian Sabbath is problematic, but this would take another essay to reply to. For the sake of this Nick, I grant that Sunday is not the sabbath as such. But let’s not lose the bigger issue Spurgeon is addressing: Sunday was a day set apart for devotion to God. Are we the poorer if we fail in this regard?

This essay is by Jeff Straub, Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

Come, Let Us Join With One Accord

Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

Come, let us join with one accord 
In hymns around the throne: 
This is the day our rising Lord 
Hath made and called his own. 

This is the day that God hath blessed, 
The brightest of the sev’n, 
Type of that everlasting rest 
The saints enjoy in heav’n. 

Then let us in his Name sing on, 
And hasten to that day 
When our Redeemer shall come down, 
And shadows pass away. 

Not one, but all our days below, 
Let us in hymns employ; 
And in our Lord rejoicing, go 
To his eternal joy. 

Last week I began a brief series on an influential pastor’s decision to cancel services at his nine-campus church on the final Sunday of 2018. About the same time my essay was being written, another well-known pastor released a podcast on the same issue. Our addressing the same question from a similar vantage point was providential.

In the first essay, I dealt with the priority of first-day-of-the-week worship from a biblical point of view. I rehearsed standard, boilerplate New Testament theology that has been widely accepted across the spectrum of Christianity since the post-apostolic era. Christians worshipped together on Sunday, the first day of the week. The church is a gathered community of believers. Worship is a corporate experience which means it is rightly done together. The Bible models this and the church has universally followed this practice.

What about worshipping at home either as a family or a small group? I say small group because few believers have the kind of houses that would accommodate a large gathering, unless it is in a warm climate and the group holds an outdoor meeting. One might have hundreds gathered under such circumstances. A house meeting is going to have far fewer in attendance. Moreover, what the brother in question was suggesting was a family worship experience as opposed to a corporate gathering or a small group. His Twitter feed declared “there are no services at our campus locations this weekend. This is a great chance to worship at home with your family!”

This was promoted as family worship and not small group worship, although perhaps some of the congregation gathered with other believers.  I took exception to the “family worship” format at minimum, because it deviates from the recognized New Testament pattern which Christendom has historically embraced, irrespective of theological orientation—gathered corporate worship.

Now, I am sure there are those who would emphatically push back at this criticism because, after all, didn’t believers start out by holding church meetings in houses? Early churches didn’t have buildings, so why should they be important today? If Christians met in homes in the New Testament, what would be wrong with doing so today? This really is a good question that deserves a thoughtful answer. Is tradition the only real reason we gather in buildings tradition? The answer is not as simple as one might think.

In the first place, while early New Testament believers did indeed meet in houses, it was not their first choice for a meeting place. The earliest Christians started by meeting in Jewish places of worship—initially in the Temple for those converts in Jerusalem (Acts 2:46) and in the synagogues for those outside the city (Acts 13:14ff) scattered across the Diaspora. In both cases, soon after Christians tried to assemble in these places as Christians, they were driven out as Jewish heretics by angry hordes of non-Christian Jews. Christians didn’t abandon Jewish places because they found them inconvenient, but because they found them dangerous.

Without the ability to meet in Jewish places, where could they meet? Some may have met outside, in public spaces, or on private property away from the prying eyes of their detractors. Many believers met in the houses of other believers (Acts 2:46). We know this because Paul refers to “churches” in “houses” on several occasions (Rom 16:5, 1 Cor 16:19, Col 4:15). Clearly “house churches” existed in the New Testament era. Also, it is quite likely that when Paul met the elders from Ephesus in Acts 20, he was meeting with men ministering in house churches across the city. Elder plurality arose out of the need to minister in these small group settings. There is no evidence or biblical intimation that the church at Ephesus had a building. They met in homes across the city and a plurality of elders was needed to care for the many small gatherings who met for church.* I have a friend who pastors two churches in Romania about 15 minutes apart by automobile. It would be impractical to try to handle two churches on a Sunday if he had to walk between them. This brother preaches three to five times per Sunday between these places. Only in the modern era can this be done. Still, these believers have buildings in which to gather. In the early New Testament era, there were no buildings.

Over time, Christians began to pool resources and erect buildings for convenience for gathered worship. Sadly, many of these early structures were razed by the authorities during the years of persecution that preceded the Edict of Milan (313 AD). Under Constantine’s administration, after he legalized Christianity, it received favored status. The emperor actually built or funded churches across the empire to curry favor of Christians with the aim of solidifying his civil authority over the nation. House churches likely still existed in places, but these gradually gave way to dedicated buildings for gathered worship.

Today, there is a strong house church movement in some parts of the world. It is well known that many Christians meet in homes in China, though this is not their preferred practice. Since 1951, Chinese Christians have had few options—either the state sanctioned Three-Self Patriot Movement (or its Catholic equivalent) or illegal house churches. They are illegal because they refuse to be controlled by government officials. Many house churches have dedicated buildings or use apartments for their meetings. Now the government is oppressing these illegal churches who refuse to be kept under the thumb of the government. Some have built buildings without government permission only to have their crosses torn down, their buildings razed, and their pastors arrested for the crime of corporate worship. This reminds me of 17th century England, when the infamous Conventicle Act kept more than five people not of the same family from gathering together for worship. When believers defied the Conventicle Act (1664), the government imposed the 5-Mile Act (1665) which made it illegal for ministers to travel to within five miles of parishes from which they had been removed.

Nevertheless, Christians resisted these strictures, even as in other countries. Christians gather secretly in “house churches” or out in the woods because corporate public worship is otherwise too dangerous. Some Christians resist the persecution by deliberately holding public corporate gatherings, not to oppose their governments but to show their allegiance to Christ and His Word.  The thought of deliberately cancelling an established public worship service for no greater reason than congregational fatigue is incomprehensible to much of the global Church.

Yes, historically, Christians have worshipped in houses. Sometimes, family worship may even be a necessity (family illness or travel to remote areas). These occasions are out of necessity and not out of preference. The global Church has chosen to gather together in dedicated buildings wherever possible as a public testimony of their loyalty to Jesus Christ. The pattern is hardly on the small groups but on the large assemblies with their choruses of voices raised to the glory of God!

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* At this point, I don’t want to get into the idea of the church as ekklesia because there is dispute as to what the word signifies, although many think that the very nature of the word highlights a gathered group of people called out from the world to follow Jesus Christ.

This essay is by Jeff Straub, Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

Built on the Rock

Nikolai Grundtvig (1783–1872); tr. Carl Doving (1867–1937)

Built on the Rock, the church shall stand
even when steeples are falling;
Christ builds His church in ev’ry land;
bells still are chiming and calling,
calling the young and old to rest,
calling the souls of those distressed,
longing for life everlasting.

Not in a temple made with hands
God the Almighty is dwelling;
high in the heav’ns His temple stands,
all earthly temples excelling.
Yet He who dwells in heaven above
chooses to live with us in love,
making our body His temple.

We are God’s house of living stones,
built for His own habitation;
He fills our hearts, His humble thrones,
granting us life and salvation.
Yet to the place, an earthly frame,
we come with thanks to praise His name;
God grants His people true blessing.

Thro’ all the passing years, O Lord,
grant that, when church bells are ringing,
many may come to hear God’s Word
where He the promise is bringing:
“I know My own, My own know Me,
you, not the world, My face shall see;
My peace I leave with you. Amen.”

Two fresh missionary deaths have made the news in recent weeks. The first was the unexpected death of missionary Charles Trumann Wesco (1974–2018), an independent Baptist missionary from Indiana. Charles, a father of eight, was accidently caught in the crossfire of civil unrest in Bamenda, Cameroon, having been in the hostile northern part of the country for less than two weeks. The shooting was accidental (in the providence of God) in that while Wesco was working in a potentially dangerous place, he joined an established missionary group that had had a gospel presence there for thirty years. The death, while lamentable, is the kind of hazard that countless missionaries since the New Testament era have encountered with the advance of the Christian message. The apostle Paul apparently found himself in similar situations on numerous occasions (1 Cor 11:26).

The second tragic death is more recent. John Allen Chau, a twenty-six-year-old graduate of Oral Roberts University, managed to obtain illegal passage to a remote part of India, North Sentinel Island, in the Andaman Islands in the Bay of Bengal. This is home to a small primitive tribe of people (with an estimated population of less than fifty) who still live in pre-Neolithic conditions and have no contact with the outside world. India has forbidden anyone from visiting the island, placing a five-nautical-mile restriction around it, partly out of concern for the survival of the tribe due to exposure to illnesses with which they have no natural immunity, and partly to preserve their way of life.

Chau felt the call of God to take the gospel to this unreached people group. He left a hand-written record of his contacts, including the life-threatening reception he received from the tribe. The last entry in his journal was dated November 16. The fisherman who helped him get to the island claims to have seen the locals burying a body on the beach the following day. Efforts by Indian authorities have thus far been unsuccessful at recovering his body, and it appears at the time of this writing that his remains may never be retrieved. Because of the primitive nature of the people and their forced isolation on the part of the Indian government, there are no plans, according to reports, for murder charges to be laid, even if the perpetrators could be identified.

Both of these deaths, while tragic from a human viewpoint, are a part of a growing roster of men and women who have paid the ultimate price for the advance of the gospel. Even as I write about these two men, I am reminded of one of the most well-known stories of missionary martyrdom, the deaths of the Auca five in January 1956—Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Ed McCully, and Pete Fleming. Elizabeth Elliot’s Through Gates of Splendor, which I read in my early years in Bible college, had a formative influence on my journey as I considered a life of service to Christ. Would God require me to make the ultimate sacrifice?

With these two current deaths so close together and apparently so similar, it behooves the Church to ponder the lives of these men and reflect on the sacrifices made for gospel advance. Is this kind of sacrifice really necessary? Wouldn’t more have been gained for the cause of Christ if they had chosen different, less dangerous paths of service and lived out their earthly journeys in places where they could preach the gospel either unhindered or at least without the kind of physical dangers they knew they might face otherwise? Why run the risk of death when there is so much gospel need in less perilous places? Should the lives of these men serve as examples of personal dedication or as models of foolish choices?

There is no doubt that unbelievers and, sadly, some faint-hearted Christians, will argue that they gave their lives in vain and need not have made the choices they did. In Charles Wesco’s case, he not only imperiled his own life but that of his wife Stephanie and their eight children by taking them to a part of Africa where civil unrest was a common occurrence. Surely, he could have found another place to serve Christ, some might argue.

As I have family in Zambia, in sub-Saharan east Africa, this story hits close to home. My oldest son Benjamin, his wife Amy, and all of my grandchildren (Simon, Isaac, Casper, and Ada Jane) are serving at the Central Africa Baptist College in Kitwe. Among the opportunities that Ben has had is teaching pastors in other countries (Malawi, South Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo). While they do not deliberately go into hostile areas, some of the spots have had a history of turmoil. In light of these two recent deaths, should I warn my son not to be foolish? To stay closer to “home” and to not take any unnecessary chances?

Of course, this is a tempting option. Who of us wants to hold the next missionary funeral? Rebecca and I gave our children to the Lord long ago and with that commitment came the possibility of one of our children laying down their life for Christ. Zambia is a fairly safe place, to be sure, but Africa itself has been known to be a difficult place at times in her history. Moreover, even if their country of residence is relatively free from civil unrest, there are any number of diseases and personal calamities that could befall them so far from “home.”

How then should we view the lives and deaths of these two recent missionary martyrs—Charles and John? With gratitude to God for lives well-lived or with a sense of profound loss for lives lived in vain, or a little of both? For my part, I actually think that Charles Wesco’s story and John Chau’s story, while similar, are also strikingly different. That difference is worth exploring in another Nick essay next week. But for now, there is much to appreciate about these two brothers whom God in His sovereign plan allowed to come to the violent end that they experienced.

Much should be made of their dedication to Christ and their willingness to follow Him at great personal sacrifice. More importantly, much should be made of the Lord Jesus Christ, the King of kings and Lord of lords who left heaven’s glory to die on a cross, one of the most violent of deaths, at the hands of wicked men, so that human redemption was not only possible but actually effected. In following Christ by laying down their lives, Charles and John did no more than follow the example of Jesus. Is the servant better than the master? Whatever else we can say about their lives and deaths, we can be profoundly grateful for this kind of dedication and sacrifice. They certainly aren’t the first missionaries to perish in gospel advance, and most assuredly they will not be the last to be called upon to lay down their lives for the sake of Christ.

I can think of no human words more fitting than some of the final words of Jim Elliott, contained in his diary, recovered in the jungle of Ecuador: “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose.” May God raise up many others to fill the void left by these servants of Christ. Soli Deo Gloria!

This essay is by Jeff Straub, Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

See How Great a Flame Aspires

Charles Wesley (1707–1788)

See how great a flame aspires,
Kindled by a spark of grace.
Jesus’ love the nations fires,
Sets the kingdoms on a blaze:
To bring fire on earth He came;
Kindled in some hearts it is;
O that all might catch the flame,
All partake the glorious bliss!

When He first the work begun,
Small and feeble was His day:
Now the word doth swiftly run;
Now it wins its widening way:
More and more it spread and grows,
Ever mighty to prevail;
Sin’s strongholds it now o’erthrows,
Shakes the trembling gates of hell.

Sons of God, your Savior praise,
who the door hath opened wide;
He hath given the word of grace,
Jesus’ word is glorified;
Jesus, mighty to redeem,
He alone the work hath wrought;
Worthy is the work of Him,
Him Who spake a world from naught.

Saw ye not the cloud arise,
Little as a human hand?
Now it spreads along the skies,
Hangs o’er all the thirsty land.
Lo! the promise of a shower
Drops already from above;
But the Lord will shortly pour
All the spirit of His love.