Colossians 1:18, 24

Church buildings are plentiful in our country. Locating one may be easy, but wisely deciding which to join involves more effort. God’s Word gives us some specific instructions in this matter.

First, let’s explore the original biblical meaning of the word “church.” The term ecclesia meant a group of people who are called out of the world’s system by God’s grace for the purpose of assembling to worship and serve Christ. Ephesians 5:29-30 further specifies that believers are the body and Jesus is the head of such a fellowship. Under His leadership, we can enjoy the unity and purpose that He intended.

God’s design for this sacred gathering involves worship, instruction, encouragement, evangelism, and ministry to those in need, both within the fellowship and outside its walls. A healthy, vibrant congregation is possible only when members rely fully on the Holy Spirit’s guidance. The work of the church is to be done in His power, in humble, prayerful submission to the Lord.

To help you determine whether a church is following the design laid out in Scripture, here are some important questions to ask: Do they believe God’s Word is infallible and inerrant? Is the church disciplining her people? Does the fellowship have some kind of missionary or evangelistic program?

Joining a congregation is an important decision, as a fellowship of believers is one tool God uses to mature and encourage His children. Those three questions can be helpful in discerning God’s will. Listen for His Spirit to warn or direct as you prayerfully investigate your options.

Recently, I attended a writers’ conference in which the beauty, glory, and power of the written word was celebrated and extolled. Once again, I was reminded of the way in which a carefully crafted story communicates far more than we often imagine. One of my favorite seminars involved a reading from the author’s work, hearing her written words wash over me and sweep me up into another time and another place. My imagination fully engaged, I was able to hear her story, place myself in her narrative more than if I had simply read her story for myself.

I often think about reading the gospel narratives in this same way; reading them aloud in order to hear the narrative flow and to be swept up into the world of the first century. It is not difficult to do with the parables of Jesus. Yet, how often do we do this kind of reading with the descriptions of events in this life of Jesus and his disciples? It might be helpful to try.

They both trod along the dusty streets of ancient Jerusalem: one as an outcast and traitor and the other as a would-be hero. One used his position to cheat and extort his own people. The other carried a dagger under his cloak to swiftly exact vengeance on agents of government extortion. Neither man would have hoped to meet the other. Yet, a stranger from a backwater town would bring the two of them together. In fact, this most unlikely pair would not only meet, but serve alongside each other. All that had previously defined them would give way to a new understanding and a new path of life.

On that most unexpected day, Matthew was collecting taxes from the people. He made sure to extract more than what was necessary to fill his coffers with unlawful profits. The stranger who came by the tax office that day looked like any other man, so it likely came as quite a shock to Matthew when the stranger called out to him, “Follow me.” No one from among the people of Israel would even desire to speak with Matthew—yet this stranger called after him and invited him to follow. To where, he did not know, but his welcoming invitation was irresistible. That very night, Matthew invited the stranger to his home for dinner and they reclined at the same table. Even to Matthew, it would have been a radical sight. Seated among the most despised members of society, didn’t the stranger know how deeply this company was hated? How was it that he had come to Matthew’s house, a man hated in all Israel for being a sellout to the Roman government? Yet, here was this intriguing stranger eating and drinking with outsiders and sellouts.(1)

The day that Simon the Zealot was approached would be no less surprising. The Zealots sought any and all means to overthrow their Roman oppressors. As revolutionaries, Simon’s political affiliates hated all that Matthew’s kind represented. For Simon, Matthew was nothing but a colluder with those who sought to oppress the people of Israel. Yet this stranger from Nazareth called both of these men to his side. “Follow me,” he asked. So along with a group of fisherman—Simon Peter, the sons of Zebedee, James and John—and this wretched tax collector, Simon the Zealot was invited to follow this stranger who gathered a most unexpected group of followers.(2)

Why would anyone call such an eclectic collection of people to become his followers? What kind of leader brings together people who for all practical purposes are at opposing ends of the spectrum with regards to their views of the world?

The man was Jesus of Nazareth. And his call to “follow” would upend all their expectations, replace all previous affiliations, and transform their views of the world. This unlikely group would follow Jesus beyond personal expectations and goals, as well as their expectations of him as their leader. The nature of his teachings and his form of radical hospitality would not only change their own lives and views, but transform the world. Jesus called Matthew as well as Simon, sellouts and revolutionaries alike. And the power of Christ’s message is displayed in the fact that a tax collector authored one of the four gospels, and the Zealot most likely gave his life, not as a revolutionary hero, but as a martyr for the gospel.(3)

Jesus proclaimed good news good enough to bring together a tax collector and a zealot, men from entirely opposing camps, the poor and the rich, the outcast and the sellouts. Indeed, he declared that anyone who does the will of God is his brother and sister and mother. The good news was also given to a former blasphemer, persecutor, and violent aggressor. But this is not what we remember the apostle Paul for either. We remember him for his efforts to take the good news throughout the Roman world.

The gospel story has a way of reaching out and adopting into the family of Jesus a most unlikely group of characters. But Jesus continues to call them to follow him—together—as the gospel goes forth into the utmost parts of the earth.

This, then, is both the challenge and the opportunity of entering into the gospel narrative. As I place myself in the narrative, I hear an invitation broad enough, wide enough, and good enough to include even me; it also reaches out and welcomes those I might not expect and bids me to serve alongside. It challenges me to leave my preconceptions behind, as the door to the kingdom of God swings open to fellow sinners who will become saints. And it ushers us in a community of new allegiances, a body only God could create and a story too good and too true.

Margaret Manning is a member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington. 

(1) See Mark 2:13-17.
(2) See Mark 3:13-19.
(3) Many later church traditions suggest that Simon joined Jude in apostolic ministry.  Later tradition suggests that Simon was martyred by being sawn in two.  See for example, The Golden Legend (Aurea Legenda) compiled by Jacobus de Voragine, 1275.

Morning   “I pray not that thou shouldst take them out of the world.”     John 17:15

It is a sweet and blessed event which will occur to all believers in God’s own

time–the going home to be with Jesus. In a few more years the Lord’s soldiers,

who are now fighting “the good fight of faith” will have done with conflict, and

have entered into the joy of their Lord. But although Christ prays that his

people may eventually be with him where he is, he does not ask that they may be

taken at once away from this world to heaven. He wishes them to stay here. Yet

how frequently does the wearied pilgrim put up the prayer, “O that I had wings

like a dove! for then would I fly away and be at rest;” but Christ does not pray

like that, he leaves us in his Father’s hands, until, like

shocks of corn fully ripe, we shall each be gathered into our Master’s garner.

Jesus does not plead for our instant removal by death, for to abide in the flesh

is needful for others if not profitable for ourselves. He asks that we may be

kept from evil, but he never asks for us to be admitted to the inheritance in

glory till we are of full age. Christians often want to die when they have any

trouble. Ask them why, and they tell you, “Because we would be with the Lord.”

We fear it is not so much because they are longing to be with the Lord, as

because they desire to get rid of their troubles; else they would feel the same

wish to die at other times when not under the pressure of trial. They

want to go home, not so much for the Saviour’s company, as to be at rest. Now

it is quite right to desire to depart if we can do it in the same spirit that

Paul did, because to be with Christ is far better, but the wish to escape from

trouble is a selfish one. Rather let your care and wish be to glorify God by

your life here as long as he pleases, even though it be in the midst of toil,

and conflict, and suffering, and leave him to say when “it is enough.”

 

Evening   “These all died in faith.”  Hebrews 11:13

Behold the epitaph of all those blessed saints who fell asleep before the coming

of our Lord! It matters nothing how else they died, whether of old age, or by

violent means; this one point, in which they all agree, is the most worthy of

record, “they all died in faith.” In faith they lived–it was their comfort,

their guide, their motive and their support; and in the same spiritual grace

they died, ending their life-song in the sweet strain in which they had so long

continued. They did not die resting in the flesh or upon their own attainments;

they made no advance from their first way of acceptance with God, but held to

the way of faith to the end. Faith is as precious to die by as to live

by.

Dying in faith has distinct reference to the past. They believed the promises

which had gone before, and were assured that their sins were blotted out through

the mercy of God. Dying in faith has to do with the present. These saints were

confident of their acceptance with God, they enjoyed the beams of his love, and

rested in his faithfulness. Dying in faith looks into the future. They fell

asleep, affirming that the Messiah would surely come, and that when he would in

the last days appear upon the earth, they would rise from their graves to behold

him. To them the pains of death were but the birth-pangs of a better state. Take

courage, my soul, as thou readest this epitaph. Thy course,

through grace, is one of faith, and sight seldom cheers thee; this has also

been the pathway of the brightest and the best. Faith was the orbit in which

these stars of the first magnitude moved all the time of their shining here; and

happy art thou that it is thine. Look anew tonight to Jesus, the author and

finisher of thy faith, and thank Him for giving thee like precious faith with

souls now in glory.

 

I am a rose of Sharon.   Song of Songs 2:1

Whatever beauty there may be in the material world, Jesus Christ possesses all of that in the spiritual world to the nth degree. Among flowers the rose is regarded as the sweetest, but Jesus is infinitely more beautiful in the garden of the soul than a rose in the gardens of earth. He takes the first place as the fairest among ten thousand. He is the sun, and all others are the stars; the heavens and the day are dark in comparison with Him, for the King in His beauty transcends all.

“I am a rose of Sharon.” This was the best and rarest of roses. Jesus simply is not “a rose”; He is “a rose of Sharon,” just as He calls His righteousness “gold,” and then adds, “the gold of Ophir”1—the best of the best. He is positively lovely, and superlatively the loveliest.

There is variety in His beauty. The rose is delightful to the eye, and its scent is pleasant and refreshing; so each of the senses of the soul, whether it be the taste or feeling, the hearing, the sight, or the spiritual smell, finds appropriate gratification in Jesus. Even the recollection of His love is sweet. Take a rose of Sharon, pull it leaf from leaf, and place the leaves in the jar of memory, and you will find each leaf retains its fragrance, filling the house with perfume. Christ satisfies the highest taste of the most educated spirit to the full. The greatest amateur in perfumes is quite satisfied with a rose: And when the soul has arrived at her highest pitch of true taste, she will still be content with Christ; indeed, she shall be more able to appreciate Him.

Heaven itself possesses nothing that excels a rose of Sharon. What emblem can fully set forth His beauty? Human speech and earthborn things fail to tell of Him. Earth’s choicest beauties combine to provide ultimately a feeble picture of His glory. Blessed rose, bloom in my heart forever!

11 Chronicles 29:4

The family reading plan for May 1, 2012

Song 6 | Hebrews 6