Is there one simple answer to the question of what is the
business of the church? I was curious so I googled "the business
of the church" to see what might be out there. The first hit was
an article from the March 17, 1952 issue of Time magazine which
was appropriately titled "The Business of the Church." At issue
was the Washington advocacy activity of the Council for Social
Action of the Congregationalist church that was considered
somewhat left of center by some prominent church people. Dr.
Walter Judd, a congressman from Minnesota who was well-known for
his commitment to the church was quoted as saying, "We do not
believe it is the business of the church to tell the state what
to do. It is the business of the church to discover what is
righteous, what is the will of God and inculcate those ideas in
the individual." OK, that is one answer.
Another google hit pointed to the website of The White Horse
Inn, a nationally syndicated radio talk show that features a
regular roundtable discussion of Christian theology and
apologetics. The header promoting this particular program asked,
"What is the business of the church? Should it play a political
role?" We can only guess at the panel's answer because no
further information was provided. We know very well that,
depending upon whom you ask the answer to the question would be
absolutely Yes or absolutely No.
That, of course, is not a new argument. The American church
can remember a century and a half ago and the controversy about
slavery. Even though in our 21st century sophistication we might
wonder how such could be possible, there were voices on both
sides of the issue. James Henley Thornwell, for example, was a
prominent Presbyterian from South Carolina who insisted the
church had no business discussing the problem because the
business of the church was spiritual, not temporal. Just as the
church should keep its ecclesiastical nose out of slavery, he
argued, so "it is not the distinctive province of the church to
build asylums for the needy or insane, to organize societies for
the improvement of the penal code, or for the arresting of the
progress of intemperance, gambling, or lust." (1) Ironically, a
South Carolina orphanage (that is still in operation today) was
established in Thornwell's honor not many years after his death
in 1862. It is hard to imagine that kind of thinking in our own
day, but in Thornwell's it was widely held.
Google responded with a number of other quotes:
- "The
business of the church is ministry; the church is in the business
of saving souls, helping people move from a life of sin to
salvation."
- "The business of the church is to gather and hear
Christ. The results of that meeting is unity/love with God and
each other..."
- "It is the business of the church to tell truth
to the world. We must never forget that."
- There were, as might
be expected, a number of google hits that referred to
ecclesiastical councils doing "the business of the church."
The
point of this exercise, of course, is to note that there is no
unanimity in answering the question about what is the business of
the church.
If it is any consolation, the problem goes back to the
earliest days of the faith. The Apostle Paul felt compelled to
address the issue in one of his first encyclicals, the Epistle to
the Galatians. The Galatian churches were wrestling with the
same question that other congregations of the day were: namely,
how should new Gentile Christians be incorporated into the faith?
Some, the so-called "Judaizers," argued that, since the Jews were
God's chosen people, these new Christians should become Jewish -
obey Jewish law and adhere to Jewish tradition and practice
including the ritual of circumcision for male converts. This was
part and parcel of the business of the young church.
In a way, that thinking had a certain appeal to these new
believers. Obedience to the Jewish law was not seen as onerous;
it could be actually liberating as it helped someone deal with
life in a pagan environment where questions of morality could be
overwhelming. The Law was helpful in providing boundaries, just
as a yellow line down the middle of a highway helps a driver stay
in the correct lane. As to circumcision, even though painful
surgery was involved, there was a certain sense of security in
the ritual; after all, this was a tangible sign of membership in
God's family. Beyond that, realizing that this was God's
commandment from generation to generation ever since Abraham, (2)
the thought would be that surely God would honor this kind of
faithfulness.
Paul objected, and he did not mince words. He begins with
the traditional salutation that we find in any other letters of
the day, but then, instead of kind words or a brief prayer for
his recipients, he lashes out: "I am astonished that you are so
quickly deserting the one who called you by the grace of Christ
and are turning to a different gospel--which is really no gospel
at all." The key word is grace which, for Paul, should not be
understood as something God gives, but rather the way that God
establishes a relationship with people. In Sunday School we
learned that grace is the "unmerited favor of God," and is not
something we can earn by what we do, even surgically. "God sent
forth his Son...to redeem those who were under the law, that we
might receive the full rights of sons." (3) That being the case,
Paul insists that there is no other way to gain membership in
God's family, no middle ground where God does the divine part and
humans do the human (and painful) part. And a curse on anyone
who would suggest otherwise!!!
Grace. The Grace Business. That is the business of the
church. For Paul the business of the church is to communicate
the grace of God that we come to know in Jesus Christ to a world
that is desperate to hear. Grace.
In Eugene Peterson's wonderful paraphrase of scripture, The
Message, (4) he says this in his introduction to Galatians:
When men and women get their hands on religion, one of
the first things they often do is turn it into an
instrument for controlling others, either putting or
keeping them "in their place." The history of such
religious manipulation and coercion is long and
tedious. It is little wonder that people who have only
known religion on such terms experience release or
escape from it as freedom. The problem is that the
freedom turns out to be short-lived.
Paul of Tarsus was doing his diligent best to add yet
another chapter to this dreary history when he was
converted by Jesus to something radically and entirely
different - a free life in God. Through Jesus, Paul
learned that God was not an impersonal force to be used
to make people behave in certain prescribed ways, but a
personal Savior who set us free to live a free life.
God did not coerce us from without, but set us free
from within.
Regardless of what the scripture teaches, there are still
plenty of folks who want to add some additional business.
Generally, it has to do with the hot button social issue of the
day - as we noted previously, 150 years ago it was slavery; after
World War II it was communism, the cold war and the arms race; in
the early 21st century, we have issues like abortion,
creationism, and homosexuality from one quarter while from
another we have poverty, global warming, and genocide. All of
these were and are important topics of conversation, and the
church absolutely should discuss them. Moral issues are
important. But the church has to remember what business it is
in.
Several years ago Tony Campolo wrote a book entitled The
Kingdom of God Is a Party. (5) In it he tells of flying to Hawaii
to speak at a conference. He describes checking into his hotel
and trying to get some sleep. Unfortunately, his internal clock
wakes him at 3:00 AM. The night is dark, the streets are silent,
the world is asleep, but Tony is wide awake and his stomach is
growling. He ends up in a grungy dive in an alley munching on a
donut and sipping some coffee when in walk eight or nine
provocative, loud prostitutes who have just finished with their
night's work. They plop down at the counter and Tony finds
himself uncomfortably surrounded by this group of smoking,
swearing hookers. He gulps his coffee, planning to make a quick
getaway. Then the woman next to him says to her friend, "You
know what? Tomorrow's my birthday. I'm gonna be 39."
To which her friend nastily replies, "So what d'ya want from
me? A birthday party? Huh? You want me to get a cake, and sing
happy birthday to you?"
The first woman says, "Aw, come on, why do you have to be so
mean? Why do you have to put me down? I'm just sayin' it's my
birthday. I don't want anything from you. I mean, why should I
have a birthday party? I've never had a birthday party in my
whole life. Why should I have one now?"
Well, when Tony Campolo heard that, he said he made a
decision. He sat and waited until the women left, and then he
asked the fat guy at the counter, "Do they come in here every
night?"
"Yeah," he answered.
"The one right next to me," he asked, "she comes in every
night?"
"Yeah," he said, "that's Agnes. Yeah, she's here every
night. She's been comin' here for years. Why do you want to
know?"
"Because she just said that tomorrow is her birthday. What
do you think? Do you think we could maybe throw a little
birthday party for her right here in the diner?"
A cute kind of smile crept over the fat man's chubby cheeks.
"That's great," he says, "yeah, that's great. I like it." He
turns to the kitchen and shouts to his wife, "Hey, come on out
here. This guy's got a great idea. Tomorrow is Agnes' birthday
and he wants to throw a party for her right here."
His wife comes out. "That's terrific," she says. "You
know, Agnes is really nice. She's always trying to help other
people and nobody does anything nice for her."
So they make their plans. Tony says he'll be back at 2:30
the next morning with some decorations and the man, whose name
turns out to be Harry, says he'll make a cake.
At 2:30 the next morning, Tony is back. He has crepe paper
and other decorations and a sign made of big pieces of cardboard
that says, "Happy Birthday, Agnes!" They decorate the place from
one end to the other and get it looking great. Harry had gotten
the word out on the streets about the party and by 3:15 it seemed
that every prostitute in Honolulu was in the place. There were
hookers wall to wall.
At 3:30 on the dot, the door swings open and in walks Agnes
and her friend. Tony has everybody ready. They all shout and
scream "Happy Birthday, Agnes!" Agnes is absolutely
flabbergasted. She's stunned, her mouth falls open, her knees
started to buckle, and she almost falls over.
And when the birthday cake with all the candles is carried
out, that's when she totally loses it. Now she's sobbing and
crying. Harry, who's not used to seeing a prostitute cry,
gruffly mumbles, "Blow out the candles, Agnes. Cut the cake."
So she pulls herself together and blows them out. Everyone
cheers and yells, "Cut the cake, Agnes, cut the cake!"
But Agnes looks down at the cake and, without taking her
eyes off it, slowly and softly says, "Look, Harry, is it all
right with you if...I mean, if I don't...I mean, what I want to
ask, is it OK if I keep the cake a little while? Is it all right
if we don't eat it right away?"
Harry doesn't know what to say so he shrugs and says, "Sure,
if that's what you want to do. Keep the cake. Take it home if
you want."
"Oh, could I?" she asks. Looking at Tony she says, "I live
just down the street a couple of doors; I want to take the cake
home, is that okay? I'll be right back, honest."
She gets off her stool, picks up the cake, and carries it
high in front of her like it was the Holy Grail. Everybody
watches in stunned silence and when the door closes behind her,
nobody seems to know what to do. They look at each other. They
look at Tony.
So Tony gets up on a chair and says, "What do you say that
we pray together?" And there they are in a hole-in-the-wall
greasy spoon, half the prostitutes in Honolulu, at 3:30 AM
listening to Tony Campolo as he prays for Agnes. Tony recalls,
"I prayed that her life would be changed, and that God would be
good to her."
When he's finished, Harry leans over, and with a trace of
hostility in his voice, he says, "Hey, you never told me you was
a preacher. What kind of church do you belong to anyway?"
In one of those moments when just the right words came, Tony
answers him quietly, "I belong to a church that throws birthday
parties for prostitutes at 3:30 in the morning."
Harry thinks for a moment, and in a mocking way says, "No
you don't. There ain't no church like that. If there was, I'd
join it. Yep, I'd join a church like that."
No, the church is not in the morality business, despite what
many people think. Society handles that role just fine, thank
you, pays legislatures to codify that morality by writing the
appropriate rules and regulations then pays police to enforce
that code. The church is not in the morality business, the
church is in the grace business. Ask the Apostle Paul. Hear
that again: the church is not in the morality business, the
church is in the grace business. What's that, Paul? One more
time: the church is not in the morality business, the church is
in the grace business.
Paul adds, "And don't you forget it!"
Amen!
1. Quoted by Bradley J. Longfield, The Presbyterian Controversy: Fundamentalists,
Modernists, & Moderates, (New York : Oxford University Press, 1991), p. 35
2. Genesis 17:9-14
3. Galatians 4:4-5
4. Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002, p. 2113
5. Anthony Campolo, The Kingdom of God Is a Party, (Dallas : Word Publishing, 1990)
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