THE TRENTON BULLETIN

THE TRENTON BULLETIN

Trenton Church of Christ, Trenton, Florida

Who could imagine a more difficult work than that of the prophet Hosea? His life and tragic marriage were designed to reflect the heartache of God, Himself, as Israel "played the harlot" with pagan idols. "They sow the wind, and reap the whirlwind" (Hosea 8:7) the prophet warned, but to no avail. God’s denunciation of His people finds its essence in Hosea 8:14: "For Israel has forgotten his Maker, and has built temples..." Two critical elements were factored into God’s condemnation.

First, God’s covenant people had forgotten Him. Some have suggested that the literal meaning is misplaced. Jehovah had been misplaced and forgotten because Israel had grown preoccupied with other concerns. Despite her spiritual decay, Hosea’s 50-year tenure as a prophet was marked by relative prosperity for the Northern Kingdom. As our own generation illustrates, when "the economy is good" people care little for moral or spiritual matters.

And secondly, in the absence of true devotion to Jehovah, Israel had adopted the religious cults of the day. But it wasn’t enough to simply burn sacrifices on crude, roughhewn altars. Instead, Israel built temples to their gods. There is a predictable pattern as men digress from spirituality to carnality. When one’s faith shrinks in fervor, it takes "something big" to sustain and satisfy his natural religious urge. If he can no longer find comfort in God, he will seek comfort in the trappings of religion that appeal to his carnal perspective. He’s no longer motivated by piety, but by pride in his appearance of piety. This type of "big" religion makes it possible for men to feel "spiritual" without the commitment of godliness and morality.

This weak-faithed desire for "bigness" has been evident in every age, from the golden calf at Sinai, to massive cathedrals of Catholicism, to socially prominent Protestant denominations. Every city in America is graced by huge houses of worship (and even larger recreational facilities) as denominations compete for the appearance of piety. But how pious is the modern world? Southern Baptists argue if wives should be in submission to husbands, Episcopalians ordain homosexuals, Methodists and Charismatic ignore what the Bible says about the role of women in public worship, and on it goes. But in each denomination, there is "comfort" to be found in prominent buildings, social acceptability, and the knowledge that one is part of "something big." The carnal is disguised as the spiritual.

And there is another psychological element involved here, too. The sense of "bigness" or prominence helps one to feel vindicated in his religious practice, even if he has no real understanding of the principles involved. As long as he can point to others who share his beliefs and can cite a heritage of forebears who "have always done things this way," he feels safe and secure. Big religion is a crutch for weakened personal faith. It gives rise to a shift from Christianity to “churchianity,” which is exactly why we should be alerted to the danger of settling into a non-thinking orthodoxy.

Not too many years ago, true New Testament disciples were often known as "a people of the Book." There is a frightening correlation between the conspicuous absence of that appellation nowadays and our waning discipleship. The same sense of comfortable orthodoxy enjoyed by the denominations has come to characterize many Christians in our generation. Instead of a hunger for the word of God, many Christians seem to want shorter sermons, non-textual Bible study (actually an oxymoron), and little personal commitment. As long as one can establish precedent - demonstrate that things were done or taught a certain way by men in the past - it is enough to satisfy brethren who lack the appetite for self-examination and the proper establishment of Bible authority. So long as a preacher can trot out a string of "proof texts" - whether taken in context or not - it satisfies men and women who are content to believe what they’ve always believed, even if they’ve never really understood the concept under discussion. Anything deemed new or different is immediately suspect, even if biblically sound, because brethren are too ignorant of the principles to understand the issue. It is just easier to condemn what we do not understand out of hand, than to apply ourselves to learning. This is not discipleship; it is the maintenance of a middle-class, respectable sect.

Sadly, as conviction gives way to respectability, many Christians have found comfort in thinking themselves part of the church: not the Lord’s body in its universal, biblical sense and not a local body of Christians, but a nation-wide body of churches known as the churches of Christ. This lamentable error has not occurred intentionally, but has evolved conceptually as many have grown less interested in a thus-saith-the-Lord and have sought security and strength in numbers. This attitude is particularly noticeable among institutional brethren, but it is noticeable among non-institutional folk as well. And here’s the irony: many who eschew the notion of church-supported human institutions have, themselves, erected one under the banner the churches of Christ! The concept of a body of churches in some sort of confederation is unknown to scripture, and is of human origin. Even if such a body of churches exists only in the minds of men, its effect is the same. The very idea creates a fraudulent security blanket in which weak brethren can wrap themselves for comfort. It used to be taught that anything smaller or larger than a local church was unscriptural. What has happened? Perhaps we need to diligently teach anew the lessons of institutionalism, but with a new twist, reminding brethren that a local church is not part of anything larger than itself.

Israel’s only hope for restoration in Hosea’s day was a return to genuine faith in God, and so it is for us. Not a "faith of our fathers," but a faith of our own based on sound Bible teaching and personal study. Any true disciple of Christ should be satisfied to belong to Him and to a local church family. If we are longing for something "bigger," it is not a sign of faith, but weakness.

Nobody likes trouble, and especially if it involves personal adversity. But contrary to conventional wisdom, scripture says, “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience” (James 1:2-3).

Trials take all shapes and forms. We may be assaulted by personal weakness or distracted by trouble among brethren. It might be physical illness or the death of one we cherish. Life is full of difficulties that challenge us to rise above them by the proper exercise of biblical principles. But it can be awfully tough.

It is not unusual in the human experience to be set upon by circumstances completely beyond our control, and to which we have not contributed. Speaking of the unpredictability of life, Solomon stated that, “time and chance happen to them all” (Ecclesiastes 9:11). Children are born with horrible deformities; arsonists destroy the property of innocent strangers; someone else’s sin bears consequences to those who would never have participated in such. That is the nature of life.

This world is so thoroughly infected with sin that no one escapes its influence. We can only try to imagine the distant paradise of Adam and Eve. But it has long since been corrupted by the consequences of their selfishness. And besides, our own sins have complicated and polluted our lives horribly.

One sense of the term trial is plain old temptation. We are tempted by evil because our desires are evil. “Each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed. Then, when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death” (James 1:14-15). The trick is to redirect our desires toward things proper, and override improper lusts by the force of will. It can be a painful fight that lasts a lifetime.

Yet in the face of such trials, scripture says, “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials” (James 1:2). The charge is not to enjoy the difficulty, itself, in some masochistic delirium, but to rejoice in the endurance we experience. “Blessed is the man who endures temptation; for when he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him” (James 1:12). James has said earlier (1:3) that “the testing of your faith produces patience.” It is patience in the sense of steadfastness and perseverance that is under consideration here. We are to rejoice that these essential qualities are given the chance to grow in us, through our determination to be ruled by God’s word rather than mere impulse. Plus, it is in the face of adversity and weakness that we truly recognize our desperate helplessness. It is while in the grip of torturous trials that we learn to throw ourselves on the mercy of God. The apostle Paul is a case in point.

2 Corinthians 11 catalogs Paul’s sufferings for the cause of Christ. Yet far from wallowing in self pity, the apostle declares, “If I must boast, I will boast in the things which concern my infirmity” (2 Corinthians 11:30). It is a fascinating statement. Rather than boast in the greatness of his exploits, Paul would rather enumerate those infirmities for which most men would be ashamed. Why? The answer lies in the following chapter. The apostle Paul was a great man and was given the opportunity to see a vision of unspeakable glory in heaven (2 Corinthians 12:1-6). But along with this great privilege also came a “thorn in the flesh” to prevent undo pride. We are not told the exact nature of the affliction, but speculations abound. At any rate, “Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me” (2 Corinthians 12:8). And three times the Lord said no. The divine response was, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). In other words, it is when we are at our weakest that we learn to rely on the grace of God. Few of us cling to the Lord when we are on top of the world; but when that world disintegrates, we are inclined to throw ourselves on the mercy of God.

We need to look at trials as Paul came to see them. “Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecution, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10). God help us to glory in God rather than drown in self-pity.

How odd, that one of the Bible’s most fundamental teachings should have become so puzzling to folks. God is not the author of confusion, but man is. And during the centuries since Jesus walked the earth, the very nature of the faith that saves us has been obscured by an improper balance of principles.

Without controversy should be the straightforward declaration, “by grace you have been saved through faith...” (Ephesians 2:9). To deny the truth of this statement is to deny the gospel. But as with other subjects, to isolate this verse to the exclusion of all others is to guarantee oneself the wrong perception. This verse surely tells us of salvation through faith, but it does not explain faith, itself. We should never question that we are saved through faith, but we should certainly strive toward a better understanding of what faith is and how it is expressed.

Faith can be defined as a deep, abiding trust and confidence in God – but to stop there is to leave the picture incomplete. It is this notion that faith is nothing more than the intellectual acknowledgment that God exists, that has led many to think that He makes no requirements of us. But that simply won’t square with scripture. After all, Hebrews 5:9 says that Jesus is “the author of eternal salvation to all who obey Him.” Now faith, or belief, is not the same as obedience. But obviously, weighing the principle of faith beside that of obedience should cause us to dig a little deeper into the nature of the faith that saves.

Saving faith cannot exist in a vacuum. In other words, faith does not exist as an isolated concept, separate from the life of the believer. Faith is a living, active ingredient of one’s character. It affects the believer’s conduct for good. James 2:14 poses two critical questions. “What does it profit, my brethren, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? That faith cannot save him, can it?” These are rhetorical questions, requiring no answer. A “faith” that does nothing cannot save anyone. Even demons believe that God exists (vs. 19), but no one believes they will be saved. No, faith needs something else to make it complete. James cites the example of Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son to God and asks, “Do you see that faith was working together with his works, and by works faith was made perfect?” (vs. 22).

So our earlier definition of faith needs to be amended. Faith is a deep, abiding trust and confidence in God, that creates a willingness to do what God says. Any definition of faith that excludes an obedient heart has failed to consider God’s word completely. But just a note of caution is in order. Just as some men incorrectly deem faith to be a mental assent of God’s goodness, others ignore faith and believe that righteousness lies in obedience. Both views are woefully wrong. No one will ever be justified before God on the basis of his obedience, for no one’s obedience is perfect (Galatians 3:10-11; Romans 3:23). Obedience for the sake of “scoring points” with God is an exercise in futility. The only obedience God will accept is that which is born of our faith in Him. The obedience of faith is that service which is motivated by our trust that God knows best, and our desire to honor His will.

It is this faith that Paul advocates in his great epistle to the Romans. In introducing his theme, Paul says he has received grace and apostleship “unto the obedience of faith among all the nations” (Romans 1:5, ASV). Plainly put, Paul is working as an apostle in order to bring about the obedience that rightly stems from faith. Paul never taught “rote” obedience in keeping with a ritualistic traditionalism. Instead, Paul taught that we could only be saved by recognizing our sinfulness, seeking the grace and mercy of God, and coming to Him through a faith in Christ that is willing to meet His conditions of pardon.

Man’s salvation through faith should not be puzzling. The most natural thing in the world ought to be our willingness to obey the God in whom we have faith. If we have come to know redemption through the sacrifice of God’s only Son, how can we fail to humble our spirits before His word? A faith that refuses to obey is really no faith at all.