Tag Archives: -Colossians 1:18

“All Things Work Together for…” What?

In Romans 8:28 Paul famously assures us that “all things work together for good.” This is a much-quoted and much-misunderstood verse. Here it is in full:

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

One way this verse is misunderstood is to turn it into an indefinite assurance that “everything that happens has a purpose”; things will work out well for everyone, eventually. But this promise is given only to “those who love God.” Those who do not love God have no such assurance.

But this still leaves a question: What is the “good” that will come to those who love God? Expanding on what I shared in my sermon opening today, I’d like to share three answers.

All Things Work Together for What?

First, there is the “prosperity gospel good.” Many professing Christians—perhaps even most in places as diverse as America and Africa—believe that if a Christian has enough faith God will eventually shower them with material blessings. For example, consider this:

God takes pleasure in blessing you, and it’s His will for you to be prosperous… It’s His plan for your life to have enough to take care of all your needs and be a blessing to others, too! To be able to take your family out for a nice meal, to live in a good home, to drive a great car, to go on a nice vacation, and to be able to bless others as you have been blessed… Believe God for a little extra to give, and a little extra to enjoy, and speak His promises of abundance over your life. As time passes, your faith will increase as well as your ability to receive abundance in your finances… Declare that He supplies all of your needs according to his riches in glory, expect His prosperity in your life, and thank Him before you see any change because you know it’s coming!

There is a lot of truth in those words, but also enough serious error that my employer, which sells Christian books, does not plan to order any more of this title for our shelves. I won’t unpack here all the problems with prosperity gospel thinking. Anyone who reads the New Testament carefully should see that for many of Jesus’ most faithful servants, faith in God meant “always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake” (2 Cor. 4:11), not nice vacations!

Seeing the errors of the prosperity “gospel,” many Christians look closer at the context of Romans 8 to see what “good” Paul had in mind. They note verse 29, which comes next:

For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.

This leads to a second option: the “character-development good.” What good does God want us to enjoy? He wants us to “be conformed to the image of his Son.” What does that look like? Quite naturally, many readers think of moral qualities. What is Jesus like (WIJL)? What would Jesus do (WWJD)?

In this reading, God uses every circumstance of our lives to deepen our character. Suffering is his special way of filling us with more of his Spirit-fruit–love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Suffering teaches “those who belong to Christ Jesus” to “crucif[y] the flesh with its passions and desires” (Gal. 5:22-24). The end result is that, as we go through all the joys and especially all the sorrows of life, we look more and more like Jesus.

What earnest Christian would not rejoice at this news? This is indeed good! And, unlike the prosperity “gospel” interpretation above, it is also true, as many Bible passages prove.

But is this the “good” that Paul had in mind when he wrote Romans 8:28?

I don’t think so. A closer look at context suggests a third option, something we might call the “glorification good.” And I think it’s important to hear what Paul is saying.

Notice the final clause in verse 29. Why does God want to conform us to the image of his son? “In order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.” Elsewhere in the New Testament when “firstborn” language is used about Jesus, it consistently refers his exalted position–over angels, over creation, and especially over death (Col. 1:15, 18; Heb. 1:6; Rev. 1:5 and Luke 2:7 uses it to refer to Jesus’ natural birth order). That speaks of glory.

Similarly, in the one place where the same term is used to refer to Christians, we read of “the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven” (Heb. 12:23). That, too, suggests glory.

Back to Romans 8. Does our linguistic clue fit with Paul’s flow of thought? Consider verse 29, which comes next:

And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.

This verse brings Paul’s thoughts to a climax. In many modern translations it is the end of a paragraph, with the next paragraph transitioning to wide-angle reflection on all that has been said before (“What then shall we say to these things?”).  The “punch-line,” then, of Paul’s thought in this entire pericope (“puh-RICK-uh-pea,” fancy biblical studies language for “literary unit” or “section”) is the word “glorified.”

The ESV translation provides the heading “Future Glory” for verses 18 through 30. This is fitting, for the word “glory” is important in the entire pericope. Working backwards, this is what we find:

The creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. (Rom. 8:21)

Notice here that the glory spoken of belongs to “the children of God.” Talk of “children” foreshadows the language of Jesus being “the firstborn among many brothers” that we found in verse 29.

The first sentence of this pericope also mentions our glory:

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. (Rom. 8:18)

And, in the verses that lead into this entire pericope, we find this:

The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. (Rom. 8:16-17)

Notice here the focus on our position—like Jesus—as “children of God.” Again, this closely matches the language of Jesus being “the firstborn among many brothers” that we found in verse 29.

In fact, the whole pericope from verses 18 through 30 function as an elaboration and proof of the claims in verses 16 and 17, and glory is at the heart of it all:

  • Verses 16 and 17: Paul claims that we who have the Spirit are Jesus’ brothers and will someday inherit the glory that he has inherited, provided we are willing to first suffer with Jesus.
  • Verses 18 to 30: Paul moves from “groaning” to “glory,” detailing the suffering we experience, assuring us of the Spirit’s help, and promising that our glorification is as good as done (“glorified”—past tense).

In this context, there can be little doubt: When Paul told his amanuensis to write “all things work together for good,” the “good” he had in mind was the future glorification of God’s children.

Why does this matter?

First, if you believe the “prosperity gospel good” interpretation of Romans 8:28, you will be sadly disappointed. Your faith is likely to be crushed beneath the persistent sufferings of this life. “When tribulation or persecution arises on account of the word,” you may “fall away” (Matt. 13:21). Or, equally bad, if you actually do enjoy prosperity here and now and pin your hopes on it, you will lose your life when you inevitably die. Make no mistake; the prosperity “gospel” is deadly.

But second, if you believe the “character-development good” interpretation of this passage, you are also in danger. As “all things” that bring suffering into your life “work together” and unrelentingly bear down upon your soul, you may grow weary of God’s refining fire. Being good may pale in comparison to being comfortable. I know it does for me sometimes.

Paul claimed that “if in Christ we have hope in this life only, we are of all people most to be pitied” (1 Cor. 15:19). Taking up your cross and denying yourself is no fun. That’s why Paul said what he did. I don’t care how much you end up sharing Christ’s character, cross-bearing is a really, really bad deal for you unless you believe the incentive of eternal reward. In fact, it is such a bad deal that you probably won’t be able to psych yourself into keeping it for long.

Not even Jesus could bear his cross without focusing on “the joy that was set before him” (Heb. 12:2).  Thus Peter urges you, too, to “set your hope fully on the grace that will be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Pet. 1:13).

In short, you need to set your hope on being “glorified,” not merely on being “good.” 

When you read Romans 8, never stop at verse 28. But never stop at verse 29, either. It sounds super spiritual to focus on suffering to become like Jesus. And you will indeed need to suffer if you are going to become like Jesus. But don’t try to be more spiritual than Jesus. Just aim to be with him and like him—good, yes, but also glorified!

For, one day, the two will be perfectly one, with suffering no more.

I don’t know about you, but I’m about ready for some glory. And yes, in another “moment” or two (2 Cor. 4:17), it will come. There is indeed “Such a Thing as Glory”!

May you catch a glimpse of glory to come as you walk through the “all things” of this week. And share your thoughts, glorious or otherwise, in the comments below. Thanks for reading.

The Church of Christ — Ferguson (3): What Is the Church?

Close your eyes. I will say a word, and you tell me what you see. Ready?

“Church.”

Hey! You didn’t close your eyes!

Okay, that game doesn’t work well in print. But the question remains: What do you see when you hear the word church?

The answer to your question will shape your answer to a lot of other questions. For example: Who belongs to the church? Who runs it? What should it be doing? How should it relate to unbelievers, relate to one another, grow, make decisions, and spend its time and resources?

In the second chapter of his book The Church of Christ: A Biblical Ecclesiology for Today, Everett Ferguson focuses on the identity of the church. This chapter is entitled “The Church and Her Lord: The Nature of the Church.” (See also my series Introduction and my discussion of Chapter 1.)

Ferguson begins this chapter by re-emphasizing the centrality of Christ:

The characterizations of the church in the scriptures bring it into relation to the deity: some to God the Father…, some to Jesus Christ…, some to the Holy Spirit… Furthermore, all the principle descriptions of the nature of the church give prominence to Jesus as Lord over the church… If the church is the people of God, it is the people of God in Christ. If the church is the community of the Holy Spirit, the Holy Spirit is the gift of the resurrected Christ… The church is the assembly of God’s people gathered in Christ’s name. (pp. 71-72, bold added)

He then discusses the nature of the church under seven headings—which I’ll list here as hyperlinks, so you can read this long post in several installments, if you wish:

  1. The People of God
  2. The Body of Christ
  3. The Community of the Holy Spirit
  4. The Family of God
  5. Agricultural Images
  6. An Architectural Image
  7. The Meaning of Ekklēsia

(Again, each of these headings has enough meaty content that you may wish to read this in installments. I could have broken this into multiple blog posts, but decided to share only one post per chapter.)

1. Ferguson first discuss “the people of God”:

The combined expression “I am your God” and “you are my people” (Deut. 26:17-18; 29:12-13; Jer. 7:23; 11:4; 24:7; 31:33; Hos. 2:23) served as something of a covenant formula to describe the intimate relationship between God and his chosen people… To be the people of God carried the promise that he would live among them. (pp. 73-74, bold added)

This language is applied in the NT to the church, both Jew and Gentile, in passages such as 1 Peter 2:9-10:

The idea of “people” permeates the passage. In English, the word “people” is used for an aggregate of individuals: “How many people are here?” Or, it applies to human beings as such: “People will be people.” In the Bible, “people” customarily means a single corporate whole, a nation or a race viewed as a collective entity… We approximate this meaning when we speak of “the American people”… (p. 74, bold added)

Ferguson recognizes the importance of church leaders. But here he notes a more basic reality:

The word in Greek for “people” is laos, from which English derives the word “laity.” The word “laity” has been debased in modern speech from the noble conception of laos in the Bible. In modern usage we contrast the laity with the professionals (as in law or medicine) and particularly in religious language with the clergy or priesthood. Not so the Bible. In the Bible the laos is the whole people, not a part (not even the largest part)… The people is a priesthood (1 Pet. 2:9), not contrasted with it. Indeed, the people (all Christians) is also the clergy (Acts 26:18; Col. 1:12). The English word “clergy” derives from the Greek klēros, meaning a lot, a portion, a possession, or something assigned. According to 1 Peter 5:3, the spiritual shepherds are not to lord it over “their charges” (klēron), that is, the people allotted or assigned to their care. By a curious (in view of modern usage) but not unusual semantic development, those who had a “charge” or “assignment,” a klēros, became themselves the klēros or “clergy.” (pp. 74-75, bold added; forgive the bold ē inserted by my blockquote feature)

After noting Paul’s use of Hosea 2:23 and Hosea 1:10 in Romans 9:23-26, Ferguson adds some pregnant observations:

What is involved in being “not a people” is indicated in Deuteronomy 32:21, “So I will make them [Israel] jealous with what is no people, provoke them with a foolish nation.” A pagan nation is not truly a “people” in the full biblical sense, because it is not chosen by God, follows the ways of idolatry and immorality (“foolish”), and so has a false center of unity… To return to 1 Peter 1:10 [actually 1 Peter 2:10: “Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.”], which also quotes Hosea 2:23, the parallelism of Hebrew poetry indicates that to be made a people is to obtain mercy. To feel a sense of oneness and community requires God’s mercy. The reverse is also true—to obtain mercy is to be made a people. Only by God’s calling and grace can individuals form a true community… We find our identity as persons only in community… God’s work, his “mercy,” is to gather a people, not just to save individuals but to create a community. Indeed, on an adequate understanding of human nature, “saving individuals” requires the “social wholeness” of a reconciled community. (p. 76, bold added)

(For some of my own musings about finding identity in community, our need for mercy, and our reliance on being chosen by God, see my recent poem, “How Do You Know Me?”)

Since in the NT the people of God is now the church, other OT language originally used of Israel is also now used of the church. Ferguson discusses some examples:

(1) Israel of God… [Ferguson cites Rom. 9:6-8; Matt. 3:9-10; 1Cor. 10:18; Phil. 3:3; and, possibly, Gal. 6:16.]

(2) Royal priesthood… [1 Pet. 2:5, 9; Rev. 1:6]

(3) Holy nation… [1 Pet. 2:9]

(4) Righteous remantIn the progressive narrowing down of God’s people, the remnant was reduced to one man—Jesus, the righteous One (Acts 3:14). Even his disciples fled at the end. In his death and resurrection, the people of God died and rose again, and so there was laid the foundation of a new people of God. [Also Rom. 9:27-28; 11:1-5]

(5) Covenant people… [Gal. 3:6-29; Rom. 4:13-16; Luke 1:54-55, 72-73; Acts 3:25-26] (pp. 77-78, bold added)

Ferguson next has an extended (13-page) discussion of election. I do not feel equipped to adequately evaluate his understandings, and he does not often directly wrestle with alternative interpretations, such as Calvinistic ones. Yet I will say that I think he is correct to root concepts in their OT backgrounds, and I do find his emphasis on corporate election helpful. Here are a few excerpts to tantalize you (minus the exegetical support Ferguson provides):

Most of the references in the Bible to God’s election have to do with the choice of a group, corporate election… In these cases—Abraham, Jacob, Levi, David—the choice of an individual was the choice of a group, the descendants of the person chosen. (pp. 79, 81, bold added)

The choice of a group in the Old Testament did not guarantee the inclusion of all individuals in that group in the blessings for which they were chosen. There was a progressive narrowing down of God’s choice… God’s choice within Israel finally focused on the One Person… Jesus Christ is God’s Chosen One. He is the fulfillment of God’s choice of Abraham, Jacob, and David. (pp. 81-82, bold added)

All who are in Christ are included in his election… God continues to choose a category, a group—believers in Christ. Christians are in Christ as Jews are in Abraham and humanity is in Adam. (p. 82, bold added)

It is not said in scripture that God has chosen Christians individually. He has chosen those in Christ; he has not chosen who will be in Christ. God elects a community, and the community he chooses now are those in Christ. A person may reject Christ and refuse the election. (pp. 84-85, bold added)

(Here is where I wish he would wrestle with verses such as Act 13:48: “…as many as were appointed to eternal life believed.”)

God in special circumstances chose individuals for a specific task… These were chosen for ministry, a service, not for salvation. Individuals chosen for a task could refuse… Election to salvation, in contrast to election of individuals for a ministry, is “in Christ” (Eph. 1:4). (p. 85, bold added)

Ferguson discusses Romans 8:28-30:

The plurals in this passage should be given their full force. The corporate body of believers is being talked about… “Those who love God”… echoes Deuteronomy 7:9… and is an expression for the corporate people of God… Although there is an apparent temporal sequence in the order of items, that is not the main idea. All the verbs are aorists; the presence of “glorified” indicates that all should be seen as timeless aorists. (pp. 87-88, bold added)

Ferguson ends this section by noting some implications of being the people of God (each worthy of meditation):

(1) The church must be separated from the conduct characteristic of the world…

(2) To be the people of God gives an sense of importance and purpose to life.. [yet also] removes any basis for pride…

(3) The church can never be merely a free association of like-minded religious individuals…

(4) There are false (and potentially sinful) principles of unity around which people organize themselves… (pp. 90-91)

2. Ferguson’s second topic is “the body of Christ”:

There was a “people of God’ from the call of Abraham; there is a “body of Christ” only after the resurrection. (p. 91)

The “body of Christ” is more than simply a figure of speech or image, but expresses a real relationship… The body finds its wholeness in Christ, and Christ has his fullness in his people… The church, according to Paul’s language, must never be separated from Christ; nor must it ever be confused with Christ. (p. 94, bold added)

Ferguson notes that in 1 Corinthians 12 and Romans 12 “Christ is… compared to the whole body, not to a part of it” (p. 95). But Colossians and Ephesians “call Christ ‘head’ of the body” (p. 96). However:

In Jewish corporate personality, the head stood for the whole. That provides the link between the language of 1 Corinthians and that of Colossians. (p. 96)

Yet “head” also implies additional concepts:

Christ is the principle of authority for the church (Ephesians) because he is its creative source (its beginning point and origin—Colossians). (p. 98)

Significantly, in all four letters Paul uses “body of Christ” language to underscore the unity-of-diversity that the church possesses (and must promote) in Christ.

Ferguson notes three “titles shared by Christ and his body”: chosen, holy, and beloved. He notes that for all three there is a “pattern of using the singular for Christ and the plural for his people” (p. 99). This helps lead him to several deductions:

To summarize the significance of these terms for understanding the nature of the church: (1) they emphasize the collective concept of the church—these things are true of the people, not as individuals but as part of the group; (2) they emphasize the relation to Christ—they are true only in union with him as the source of the status; and, (3) following from this fact, they show the derivative nature of the church’s status—it is the result of God’s grace in Christ. (p. 101, bold added)

Ferguson briefly discusses the term “Christian”:

“Christians”… occurs only three times in the New Testament (Acts 11:26; 26:28; 1Pet. 4:16)… [It] occurs primarily in contexts having to do with legal relations with outsiders… The means by which the name “Christian” came into use in Acts 11:26… is disputed, but Luke’s use of the verb often used for a divine oracle… may indicate that he wanted to suggest that… its use carried divine approval or authorization. (pp. 101-102, bold added)

Ferguson ends this section by listing ten “implications of being the body of Christ,” from which I’ll share a few quotes:

The church is where Christ is, where he is preached and confessed, where he is working and obeyed… There is only one body (Rom. 12:4-5; 1Cor. 12). This means that within the body there is to be unity and no discord… Nearly all the references to the church as a body have the theme of unity… Even as one cannot understand the human body by starting with the individual parts, so one cannot understand the church by starting with the individual Christians. (pp. 102-103, bold added)

In his discussion of the body of Christ, Ferguson doesn’t focus on some of the church polity questions that tend to preoccupy us. For instance, he doesn’t directly answer the question of whether we should talk about a “local body” or “local church membership,” let alone how we should define such. However, given his strong emphasis thus far on the church being those who belong to Christ, it seems to me that he is assuming throughout that there is only one body of Christ—what we often term the “universal church.” Perhaps this is so axiomatic to him that he did not think to clarify the point. Nevertheless, here are a few excerpts that provide hints of his understandings:

In some passages “in Christ” becomes virtually the same as “in the church.” (p. 92)

The act of “baptism into Christ” (Rom. 6:3; Gal. 3:27) provides a basis for the identification of those baptized with the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12:13), so much so that the church can be identified with Christ (1 Cor. 1:13). (p. 93)

The church is where Christ is… Christ is greater than the church… He is not necessarily where a “church” is. Christ is the only indispensable “part”; indeed, he is the whole… The church is made up of those who take their life from him… There is only one body (Rom. 12:4-5; 1Cor. 12)… Each member has a contribution to make to the growth of the whole (Eph. 4:16). (pp. 102-103)

While discussing Christ’s role as head of his body, Ferguson writes, “Wherever God acts for salvation of human beings, there is the church” (pg. 97). These excerpts suggest that Ferguson understands the NT’s language of the “body of Christ” and its “members” to refer to the universal church—an understanding I affirm. (Of course this also has implications for local congregations, but we will wait for Ferguson to develop those questions later.)

(3) Ferguson’s third topic is “the community of the Holy Spirit”:

Common participation in the Holy Spirit brings people together in community… Various experiences or common interests or shared principles may create human communities… The church, however, is a community, a fellowship, through the divine spirit. Hence, in its very essence it is a divine creation, not a human product. (pp. 103-104, bold added)

“At the risk of being overly precise,” Ferguson writes, “we may make two distinctions” between the Holy Spirit’s work in the Old and New Testaments:

First, in the Old Testament, there were Spirit-filled leaders but no Spirit-filled community… [Secondly,] when the Spirit came to individuals under the old covenant, the visitation was temporary. (p. 105)

After discussing the Spirit in the life of Christ and the relationship between these two members of the Godhead, Ferguson draws an implication for the church today:

From the beginning, the church has had trouble from those claiming to act and speak from the Holy Spirit and so has had need to “test the spirits” (1 John 4:1). That passage proceeds to offer an important criterion for testing the spirits: they are to be evaluated by conformity to the apostolic message… (1 John 4:6)… The description of the ministry of the Holy Spirit in John 16:13-15 provides a foundational test… If a spirit is indeed the Spirit of Christ, it will always work in harmony with the ministry of Christ. We know the life and teachings of Jesus fully from the Gospels and the writings of his apostles. This may not answer all problems that arise, but Christ himself does given an objective criterion for testing the spirits. (pp. 106-107, bold added)

“The Spirit is the life of the church,” as Ferguson explains:

Possession of the Spirit indicates membership in the people of God… The church… was not first a body into which God poured the Spirit as the living content. No, it was the coming of the Spirit that created the church… As Jesus was born of the Holy Spirit, so was the church. (p. 107, bold added)

Ferguson again emphasizes the corporate nature of the Christian life:

This indwelling of the Holy Spirit is both individual and corporate… The Holy Spirit is in the community because he is in the individual members, but it is also true that the Spirit is in the church and one receives the Spirit through connection with the Spirit-filled community. (p. 108, bold added)

Here I am reminded of Jesus’ promise to be present wherever “two or three are gathered in my name” (Matt. 18:20), or Paul’s command to the church at Corinth: “When you are assembled in the name of the Lord Jesus and my spirit is present, with the power of our Lord Jesus…” (1 Cor. 5:4). It is easy for me, adopting the individualistic mindset of our age, to forget that God’s Spirit is uniquely present when his people gather.

“The Spirit is present in and energizes many activities in the church,” Ferguson writes. Citing Scriptural evidence, he lists baptism, sanctification, Christian growth, love, joy, morality, serving God, worship, prayer, preaching, leadership and ministry, guarding the truth, enduring suffering, creating unity, and spiritual power (pp. 109-110).

Ferguson is no Pentecostal, however. He rightly notes that “only in 1 Corinthians 12:4-11 are the charismata [“grace gifts”] brought into relation with the Spirit”; usually the term is used for other things such as deliverance from spiritual or physical death or even the power to live a celibate life (pp. 110-11). And the Holy Spirit is most often mentioned in connection with other topics:

When Paul speaks of the Holy Spirit apart from problems associated with claims to possess the Spirit, he gives prominence to the ethical role of the Spirit. Human attention, however, tends to focus on the more spectacular ecstatic and miraculous manifestations of the presence of the Spirit. (p. 111, bold added)

I track with Ferguson to this point, but think he later leans a little too close to cessationism (the doctrine that spiritual gifts such as speaking in tongues, prophecy and healing ceased at the end of the apostolic age).

Ferguson ends this section by drawing eight “implications of being the community of the Holy Spirit.” Here are a few highlights—with the second paragraph being one of my favorites in this entire chapter:

Legal, political, or institutional unions are ineffective without the unity of the Spirit…

The church as the community of the Spirit preserves individuality while denying both individualism and collectivism. Individualism that has its roots in selfishness is destroyed; individualism rooted in possession of particular gifts and graces (1 Cor. 12) is developed as long as these are used for the common good. Much of modern individualism does not distinguish self-consciousness from the Holy Spirit, and collectivism absolutizes the group at the expense of both the individual and the Holy Spirit. Under the guidance of the Spirit, the individual develops for the service of the whole…

The church as the community of the Spirit has but One Teacher (Matt. 23:10)… All human “teachers” must appeal for verification of their message to the same Spirit who resides in those taught (1 John 2:27). (p. 113, bold added)

Perhaps more than any part of this chapter so far, this section on the Holy Spirit makes me aware that the church is a miraculous creation. I am left hungry to know more of being part of a Spirit-filled community.

(4) Ferguson next examines the church as the “family of God”:

Since the church is a family, we must correctly identify the various members of the family and their respective roles. Ferguson notes several Scriptural patterns:

“Household” appears to be the primary imagery for the church in Hebrews. [Ferguson also cites 1 Peter 4:17,  Ephesians 2:19, and Galatians 6:10.]… According to this family imagery, God is the Father over his house… In the description of the church as a household, the overseers of the church function as stewards (Titus 1:7; 1 Tim. 3:5…), administering its affairs on behalf of the Father, who is head of the household. (pp. 114-15, bold added)

Another use of family imagery is to describe the relationship of God with his people as that of husband and wife… Christ as the bridegroom and the church as his bride. (p. 115, bold added)

Ferguson notes that this imagery expresses Christ’s loving lordship, our submissive desire to please him, the purity of the church, and our expectation of consummating our relationship with Christ when he returns.

A different use of the family imagery is Paul’s reference to himself as a “father” to his converts (1 Cor. 4:15), whom he cared for like a father (1 Thess. 2:11…) and whom he described as his children (1 Tim. 1:2; Titus 1:4). This is descriptive language. Jesus forbade the use of “Father” as an official designation or honorary title for human beings (…Matt. 23:8-9). (p. 115, bold added)

This, to my knowledge, is the closest that the NT comes to the idea that church leaders function as parents over other Christians. In these texts the idea is used of Paul in his role as evangelist and apostolic steward of the gospel. It emphasizes (a) the gentle way he exercised his authority, (b) the bond of love he enjoyed with his converts, (c) his diligence in training them,  and (c) the reasonableness of his desire that they imitate him. This imagery is associated with admonition, exhortation, encouragement, urging, charging, and the thread of “a rod” (1 Cor. 4:21; cf. 1 Cor. 4:14-17; 1 Thess. 2:11-12. See also 2 Cor. 6:13; 12:14; Gal. 4:19.).

John uses similar imagery when he calls his readers “little children,” an address that conveys affection, and also perhaps John’s senior age and his expectation that his readers will obey him.1

In contrast, Paul urges Timothy, a younger leader, to treat those in his care as fathers, brothers, mothers, and sisters—with no mention of treating others as “children” (1 Tim. 5:1-2). In fact, Timothy is to consider older men as his fathers. This suggests that merely possessing an office does not make one a “parent” in the church.

In 1 Timothy and Titus an elder must “manage his own household well, with all dignity keeping his children submissive” (1 Tim. 3:4), a clause which may suggest that elders also serve as fathers over their congregations. But, as Ferguson noted above, these passages actually cast elders in the role of stewards, not fathers. Note the contrast Paul emphasizes in his parallel phrases:

For if someone does not know how to manage his own household, how will he care for God’s church? (1 Tim. 3:6, bold added)

Before we use the imagery of parents to describe the role of local church leaders, we should ask several questions: To what extent do elders today carry a similar authority over their converts that Paul and John carried as apostles specially entrusted with the initial proclamation of the gospel? If I as a father appoint a steward over my household, how does his authority differ from mine? To the extent that a fatherly aura may surround a leader, is it a natural result of his senior age and past spiritual care, or is it something “pasted on” merely through receiving an office?

We should also consider the NT balance between (a) acknowledging that too many Christians act as spiritual children and (b) urging them to become spiritual adults. (See 1 Cor. 3:1; 14:20; Eph. 4:14.) What approach to church leadership will best help believers become and act as spiritual adults? It seems clear that the dominant NT pattern is the language of brotherhood, not parentage, so in most cases it will be wiser to think in terms of brother-sibling relationships, not father-child relationships.

Ferguson next takes a closer look at Christ as Son and Christians as both children and brothers and sisters of Christ:

Christ is the Son over his Father’s house… “Son of God”… is one of the important titles that Jesus shared with his people. (1) Sometimes the imagery used is that of adoption… (2) Sometimes the imagery is that of becoming children of God by a spiritual birth… (3) Or again, to follow the imagery of the body of Christ explored above, through incorporation into Christ his people become what he is. (p. 116, bold added)

Whether by adoption or birth, “Jesus’ people become children of God by the Holy Spirit” (p. 118). Interestingly, unlike Paul, John reserves “Son” for Jesus, calling Christians “children.” (p. 116-17).

“The brothers” (the plural includes “sisters”) became a common designation for the Christian community… [This was] Luke’s favorite designation for the church [in Acts]… The religious use of “brothers” in the plural for the new spiritual family of God surfaces in all the remaining books of the New Testament except Titus, 1 Peter (which has “brotherhood”…), and 2 John. (p. 119, bold added)

“Firstborn” was a designation of Israel as the people of God (Exod. 4:22…) and of the Davidic king (Ps. 89:27). God’s predestinating activity in Christ was so that “he might be the firstborn among many brothers”… (Rom. 8:29). Thus his people are called the “firstborn ones” (Heb. 12:23). (p. 120, bold added)

(For more on the church as the family of God, see my review of Hellerman’s book When the Church Was a Family.)

(5) Ferguson next briefly addresses two “agricultural images”:

First “the vine and the vineyard,” an image rooted in OT descriptions of Israel:

The thoughts of solidarity and union between Christ and his people… which Paul expresses under the image of the body, the Gospel of John expresses under the image of the vine (John 15:1-11)… “Branches” perhaps says too much; we might better translate “twigs.” Jesus is the whole; his disciples are part of him. (p. 121, bold added)

Then “the sheep and the sheepfold”—another image led out of the OT:

As God owns the vineyard in which Jesus is the vine (John 15:1), so God owns the sheep for whom Jesus is the shepherd… The description of people as sheep is not at all complementary, but the point is not to describe human nature but to affirm something about God. As a shepherd cares for his sheep, so God cares for his people. (p. 123, bold added)

I am not entirely convinced that “the point is not to describe human nature,” for Jesus mentions how prone sheep are to being scattered (John 10:5, 12) and other NT passages build on that point, connecting it to our need of a leader who can truly save us (cf. 1 Pet. 2:25). As OT history clearly showed, human leaders alone do not suffice. Therefore:

According to the Johannine paradox, the Lamb will shepherd the redeemed (Rev. 7:17)… The theme of unity is also connected with the imagery, for there is to be “one flock, one shepherd” (John 10:16-18)… By following Jesus the sheep are gathered into one flock. (p. 123, bold added)

Other NT passages present human leaders as shepherds serving under the “chief Shepherd” (1 Pet. 5:4; cf. John 21:15-17; Acts 20:28-30), but Ferguson does not develop that point here.

(6) Next up for Ferguson is “an architectural image”:

Unlike modern English usage, the word “church” in the Bible does not refer to a building but to a people. The church, however, is compared to a building. (p. 124)

Jesus promised to “build” his church (Matt. 16:18), and Paul likewise calls himself a “skilled master builder” (1 Cor. 3:10). The church’s foundation is also variously identified:

That the imagery of the foundation can be applied to Jesus (1 Cor. 3:11), the apostles (Rev. 21:14), and the apostles and prophets (Eph. 2:20) is a reminder that illustrations can be used in different contexts to teach different lessons without being contradictory. (p. 125, bold added)

“The building to which the church is most often compared is the temple,” Ferguson writes. This is developed in several ways:

Christians are not only a building but a body of functioning priests within the temple [1 Pet. 2:5]…

The significance of temples was that they were the house of the deity…

The Gospel of John presents Jesus as the new temple…

First Corinthians 3:16-17 refers to the local church as the temple of God… The church is now the dwelling place of God [2 Cor. 6:17-7:1]. The holiness resulting from this relationship requires separation from idolatry and all defilement…

The climactic statement on the church as the temple of God is Ephesians 22:19-22… Now the church is viewed as universal, not local

The passages on the church as a temple emphasize that it is God’s. (pp. 126-29, bold added)

(7) Ferguson’s last topic in this chapter is “the meaning of ekklēsia“:

After briefly explaining how the Greek word kyriakos (“the Lord’s”) morphed into Kirche (German), “Kirk” (Scottish) and “church” (English), Ferguson contrasts this with the Bible’s word for “church”:

The use of the word “church” for a building is proper in English, but this is not true for the Greek word it translates. (pp. 129-30)

Ferguson challenges a popular definition:

The Greek word translated “church” is ekklēsia. Its basic meaning was “assembly,” referring to what was done and not where it was done. The popular etymology deriving the word from “called out” (ek + kaleō) is not supported by the actual usage of the word. The emphasis was on the concrete act of assembly, not a separation from others. (p. 130, bold added)

Next he discusses Greek and Jewish usage of the word:

Its primary use in classical Greek was for the assemblies of the citizens of a Greek city. In the direct democracy of the Greek city-states, many decisions… were made in meetings of all the citizens… In Acts 19… the mob gathered in the theatre is called an ekklēsia (Acts 19:32, 40). The city clerk contrasted that irregular gathering with the “regular assembly,” the lawful, duly called meeting of the citizens (Acts 19:39).

The Jews adopted this Greek word to describe the assemblies of Israel [as seen in the Greek translation of the OT]… Ekklēsia was used exclusively to translate the etymologically equivalent Hebrew word qahal, but was not the only word used to render that Hebrew root. Another word used to translate qahal was synagogēIn the separate development of Judaism and Christianity synagogē became the Jewish word and ekklēsia the Christian word for the gathered people, but in an early Jewish Christian context both words could be used without difference of meaning (James 2:2; 5:14)… It would seem that the word [ekklēsia] did not have a technical sense for the “people of God”… Nevertheless, ekklēsia was a noble word from its political use in Greek civic life. (pp. 130-31, bold added)

Ferguson suggests that Paul uses ekklēsia in a range of ways, referring to (a) an actual assembly of Christians, (b) the people who assemble, and (c) the people, whether assembled or not—the latter usage showing that the word had become a technical term for Christians.

The great majority of instances of the word are in reference to a local church… Less frequently, ekklēsia is used ina universal sense for all believers (Matt. 16:18; Eph. 1:22; Col. 1:18)… Whether the local or universal sense came first is in some respects a false alternative. Although Paul’s usage for the local assemblies occurs first in our surviving literature, the Jerusalem church presumably referred to itself as ekklēsia, so from the beginning the first local church was itself the universal church. (pp. 131-32, bold added)

Even the universal church includes the idea of an assembly, Ferguson suggests, given the promise of our being “gathered together” to Christ at his coming (2 Thess. 2:1; Matt. 24:31).

Ferguson suggests that “the word ‘assembly’ in itself says nothing about the nature of the assembly” (thus often “descriptive phrases are added,” referring to geographical areas, the nature of the people who make up the assembly, or God and Christ). This point is disputed by theologians. Some argue, for example, that the Greek use of ekklēsia to refer to regularly-summoned political gatherings provides a pattern for Christian churches: every person should have the right to speak and propose matters for discussion, and  decisions should be made by consensus. On the other hand, the Jewish use of the term for gatherings of other sorts challenges this interpretation, affirming instead Ferguson’s argument that the word simply implies an assembly of people.

Without studying the matter further, I would suggest both sides should be cautious here. It is probably illegitimate to draw too many conclusions about church decision-making directly from the Greek city-state ekklēsia model. However, even the basic definition of “assembly” suggests that important decisions, however they are made, should ideally be made when as much of the church as possible is gathered together, rather than by a smaller group intentionally secluded from the full body. This fits with Jesus’ use of the word ekklēsia as well; he could have used the more Jewish word synagogē to describe his followers, but instead he used ekklēsia and then described this ekklēsia as a decision-making, verdict-rendering body (Matt. 18:17-20).2 I think we see this pattern in some other places as well, such as with the church gathering described in Acts 15.

This conclusion also fits with some of Ferguson’s final words in this chapter:

The designation ekklēsia calls attention to the importance of meeting together for the nature of the church… The church, by definition, is an assembly. It is the people who meet together on a regular basis… When it comes together, the church exemplifies that it is indeed the church, an assembly (1 Cor. 11:18). (p. 133, bold added)


This has been another long chapter! Which of Ferguson’s observations especially interested you? Would you like to challenge him (or me) on some point? Where do you especially agree? Assemble your thoughts and share them in the comments below.


Ferguson’s third chapter (our post 4) is about salvation and church membership. We’ll also discuss some related topics like baptism. One quote to whet your appetite: “To be a Christian is to be a member of the church.” See you there!


Note: I participate in an Amazon affiliates program, so if you buy a book using the link above, I will earn pennies. Thanks!

  1. Yarbrough, Robert W. 1-3 John. BECNT. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2008), 71-72.
  2. I am borrowing some here from Steve Atkerson, who adds that “it is important to note that the church, in its decision making role, should be judicial rather than legislative,” this being a difference from the ekklēsia  of the Greek city-states. Steve Atkerson, ed. House Church: Simple, Strategic, Scriptural (Atlanta, GA: House Church Reformation Fellowship, 2008), 75.

Ecclesiology of the Reformers (6): William Tyndale

The idea of Tyndale having an ecclesiology is new for me. Tyndale is famous for being the father of the English Bible, not for having founded any church. Yet Tyndale did have an ecclesiology, and he did help to found a new church. Just as Tyndale’s translation work lies hidden in plain site within the King James Version Bible–about 80% of the KJV NT matches Tyndale’s–so his influence on ecclesiology lies hidden in plain sight in the many branches of the English Protestant church.

Tyndale’s ecclesiology was hammered out in the context of his experience, a scholar on the run, a theologian in exile… Even Menno Simons, who faced harassment and persecution, seems to have had a respected leadership role among the scattered Anabaptist communities in the Low Countries. He was able to get married and have a family. Not so William Tyndale. He lived hand to mouth, so to speak, depending on the generosity of a few friends, never knowing when the creak on the stairs or the turn of the lock would be his summons from the authorities. And yet he thought and wrote a great deal about the church, which he frequently referred to as God’s “little flock”: “The Kingdom of heaven is the preaching of the Gospel, unto which come both good and bad . But the good are few. Christ calleth them therefore a ‘little flock’ (Luke 12:32).” (Kindle Locations 7737-7744, emphasis added)

This post continues our series on the ecclesiology of the Reformers, quoting from Timothy George’s excellent book, Theology of the Reformers. (See past posts about the ecclesiologies of Luther, Zwingli , Calvin, and Simons. See also the introduction to this series, and stay tuned for, hopefully, some wrap-up thoughts.)

One of the first things I noticed while reviewing George’s survey of Tyndale’s theology was that Tyndale’s Bible translation had ecclesiological effects. Even if Tyndale would have had no conscious theology of the church himself, he still would have shaped the ecclesiology of the English world simply through his translation. This happened in at least two ways: (1) through the gatherings that were formed by readers of his translation and (2) through the vocabulary choices he made as he translated.

Tyndale didn’t aim to produce a new church through his translation work:

At first Tyndale tried to accomplish his mission by working through official channels of the established church… The decree of 1408 forbidding English Bible translations provided only one loophole: Such a project could be undertaken with the permission and supervision of a bishop. (Kindle Locations 7176-7179)

Though the established church denied him support, Tyndale refused to deny the common plowman the chance to read “God’s Word.” Tyndale’s declared goal was to work for spiritual renewal of both individuals and the English nation at large:

Tyndale believed that the translation of the Bible and its dissemination into the hands of ordinary people were the means God had appointed to bring about genuine reformation and spiritual renewal in his time. In his brief epistle “To the Reader,” Tyndale commended his translation of the New Testament in this way: “Give diligence dear reader (I exhort thee) that thou come with a pure mind and as the Scripture saith with a single eye unto words of help and eternal life: by the which (if we repent and believe them) we are born anew, created afresh, and enjoy the fruits of the love of Christ.” (Kindle Locations 7225-7233)

Tyndale longed for God to use his translation to create new creatures in Christ Jesus. It did more than that; it also created new gatherings of believers.

Tyndale’s 1526 New Testament entered England as contraband and began to circulate in this way. Literacy was on the rise but still not common. Those who did not know how to read gathered eagerly around others who did to hear for the first time the words of the New Testament read aloud in English. Here and there, in the dark corners of the land, common folk gathered for such secret readings of Tyndale’s New Testament. Imagine being in such a group and hearing for the first time these words from the Gospel of John: “God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son for the intent, that none that believe in him should perish: But should have everlasting life. For God sent not his Son into the world, to condemn the world: But that the world through him, might be saved” (John 3:16–17 Tyndale).(Kindle Locations 7215-7221, emphasis added)

King Henry VIII banned Tyndale’s translation; it was burned in St. Paul’s churchyard; and Tyndale remained on the run throughout the continental Europe. Yet his translation continued to find readers and to gather these readers into groups.

The case of William Malden illustrates the impact of Tyndale’s New Testament as it began to circulate throughout England in the late 1520s. Malden was a teenager, fifteen years of age, who lived with his family in the town of Chelmsford. At that time all of the services in the parish church there were still conducted in Latin. But, as Malden later recalled, “Divers poor men in the town of Chelmsford . . . bought the New Testament of Jesus Christ and on Sundays did sit reading in the lower end of the church and many would flock to hear their reading.” When Malden’s father found out about his son’s attendance at these Bible-reading sessions, he forbad him to participate anymore, insisting that he could get all the Bible he needed by going to Latin matins. Contrary to his father’s wishes, young William learned to read so that he could have access to the Scriptures for himself and not depend on its being read to him by others. (Kindle Locations 7259-7266, emphasis added)

Given this result of Tyndale’s efforts, it is interesting how he has been compared to the Paul the apostle and church planter:

Tyndale had enemies in high places, but he also had his champions, among whom there was none greater than John Foxe. In his Acts and Monuments, Foxe referred to Tyndale as one “who for his notable pains and travails may well be called the Apostle of England in this our later age.” Foxe invited one to think of Tyndale as a kind of apostle for his time, like Paul. The parallels between the two are, in fact, striking. Both were unmarried celibates who had no family of their own. Both Tyndale and Paul skirted danger in the fulfillment of their mission. Both were betrayed by untrustworthy companions, both spent time in prison and produced letters in their confinement, both were shipwrecked and finally put to death at the hands of imperial power . What Paul said about himself in his “catalog of sufferings” could be echoed by apostle Tyndale in the sixteenth century… (Kindle Locations 7241-7248)

A second way that Tyndale’s translation had ecclesiological effects was through the vocabulary choices that Tyndale made as he translated.

Tyndale’s desire to put the Scriptures into “plain plowman’s English” led him to introduce a new biblical vocabulary. As we have seen, charity became love. He turned penance into repentance and rendered confess as acknowledge. And, just as Luther preferred Gemeinde (community) to the German word Kirche (church), so Tyndale translated the Greek ekklesia as congregation. (Kindle Locations 7748-7752, emphasis added)

According to George, Tyndale recognized that there were four ways that the terms church and congregation were used. Tyndale didn’t approve of all these uses:

…Fourth, in Tyndale’s day the word church was used in a technical and exclusive sense to refer to all the clergy, who were also known as “the spirituality.” Tyndale called them “a multitude of shaven, shorn, and oiled.” Tyndale pointed out that this use of the word is found nowhere in the Scriptures; it represents a false institutionalization of the people of God.

So, what did Tyndale mean by congregation?

Congregation, as Tyndale often used it, refers to the true remnant, the “little flock,” Christ’s elect church, which is

The whole multitude of all repenting sinners that believe in Christ, and put all their trust and confidence of God; feeling in their hearts that God for Christ’s sake loveth them, and will be, or rather is, merciful unto them, and forgiveth them their sins of which they repent; and that he forgiveth them also all the motions unto sin, of which they fear less they should thereby be drawn into sin again.

Upon the rock of the faith that Peter confessed in Matthew 16, Jesus said that he would build his congregation. “And against the rock of this faith can no sin, no hell, no devil , no lies, nor error prevail,” Tyndale declared. It is this knowledge and faith that “maketh a man of the church.” Furthermore: “And the church is Christ’s Body (Col. 1); and every person of the church is a member of Christ (Eph. 5). Now it is no member of Christ that hath not Christ’s Spirit within it (Rom. 8); as it is no part of me, or members of my Body, wherein my soul is not present and quickeneth it. And then, if a man be none of Christ’s, he is not of his church.” (Kindle Locations 7753-7772, emphasis added)

Given this emphasis on knowledge and faith, we can see that Tyndale’s translation work was urgent and essential. He rested his hopes for individual salvation and for church renewal on the power of the written Word. To put it another way, Tyndale’s beliefs about the Word and about salvation shaped his understanding of the true Church. The Word awakens faith in the individual, and the gathering of the faithful is the Church:

“In as much as the Word is before the faith, and faith maketh the congregation, therefore is the Word or Gospel before the congregation.” (Kindle Locations 7777-7778)

Once again, as we’ve seen before in this series, ecclesiology rests on soteriology–that is, what we believe about the church is based on what we believe about the gospel and how it saves us. Differences in soteriology (doctrine of salvation) inevitably led to division between Tyndale and the Roman Catholic Church:

Both Thomas More [Catholic English statesman] and William Tyndale, like all Catholics and Protestants engaged in sixteenth-century salvation debates, believed in both faith and works. But how these two dimensions of the Christian life are related, which came first, whether either involves the accrual of merit, and what role each plays in the economy of grace—these were church-dividing matters that could not be resolved. (Kindle Locations 7607-7610, emphasis)

So what did Tyndale believe about salvation? In summary, according to George: Tyndale “was the first English-speaking theologian to give” justification by faith “due attention” (Kindle Locations 7495-7496). He emphasized the covenants God made with humanity, God’s work of electing and granting faith to his chosen ones, and how God grants sinners “totus Christus, the whole Christ: ‘His blood, his death, all that he ever did, is ours. And Christ himself, with all that he is or can do, is ours.’” (Kindle Locations 7581-7582)

At some points Tyndale sounds very Anabaptist:

None of this happens apart from the Holy Spirit. Tyndale’s emphasis on regeneration, the new birth, resonates more with Menno Simons and the Anabaptist vision than with the other reformers studied in this book. (Kindle Locations 7581-7584)

Unlike Luther, Tyndale placed a high value on the letter of James and quoted from it often. Tyndale saw no real contradiction between Paul’s doctrine of justification by faith apart from the works of the law and James’s statement that one is justified by works and not by faith only (Jas 2:14–24). James was not opposing works to true faith, Tyndale said, but rather works to a false conception of faith. (Kindle Locations 7682-7684)

And at other times not so much:

In his prologue to Romans, Tyndale declared that “predestination, our justifying and salvation are clean taken out of our hands, and put in the hands of God only, which thing is most necessary of all. For we are so weak and so uncertain, that if it stood in us, there would be of a truth no man be saved, the devil no doubt would deceive us.” (Kindle Locations 7538-7540)

Now may not we ask why God chooseth one and not another; either think that God is unjust to damn us before we do any actual deed; seeing that God hath power over all his creatures of right, to do with them what he list, or to make of every one of them as he listeth. (Kindle Locations 7545-7547)

Tyndale’s soteriology–with its ecclesiological ramifications–was not just communicated subtly through vocabulary choices in his translation:

Tyndale was not only a translator of the Bible, but he was also a teacher of the church.

In the preface to his commentary on 1 John, he gave this as the reason for writing that book and everything else he produced : “to edify the layman, and to teach him how to read the Scriptures, and what to seek therein.” In addition to translating most of the Bible into English from Hebrew and Greek—a formidable task no one had ever done before or has been required to do since—Tyndale produced an amazing theological corpus: prologues, introductions, expositions, and commentaries on the Bible as well as polemical and doctrinal treatises, not to mention sermons , letters, and liturgical writings, only a small portion of which have survived. (Kindle Locations 7334-7338, emphasis added)

Nor was Tyndale afraid to directly criticize the established church:

Among many complaints registered by Tyndale against leaders of the church, two stand out as especially offensive. The first was their avarice, greed, and exploitation of the flock over which they had been placed as shepherds… Every priest took his cut, as Tyndale wrote with sarcasm: “The parson sheareth, the vicar shaveth, the parish priest polleth, the frier scrapeth, and the pardoner pareth; we lack but a butcher to pull off the skin.” (Kindle Locations 7788-7794, emphasis added)

Tyndale also excoriated religious leaders for their moral laxity and sexual sins. Although he did not regard marriage as a sacrament—only baptism and the Lord’s Supper were New Testament institutions with a “promise”—he held a high view of married life… He strongly opposed the imposition of enforced clerical celibacy. This practice, Tyndale believed, invariably led to two extreme responses: On the one hand, the shunning and despising of all women—an attitude he detected in Jerome among others—and, on the other hand, a “false feigned chastity” that resulted in lust, lechery, and sexual abuse. (Kindle Locations 7801-7807, emphasis added)

Tyndale’s criticism of the established church clarifies that his vocabulary choices as a translator were very intentional, loaded with theological significance:

In criticizing late medieval religious practices, Tyndale made the priesthood of all believers the basis of his own ecclesiology. William S. Stafford has pointed to the significant change signaled by Tyndale’s choice of the term congregation over church. It amounted to “the re-evaluation of the laity, a religious, social and political relocation of the multitude who were baptized but untonsured.”1 (Kindle Locations 7816-7819, emphasis added)

Tyndale’s emphasis on the priesthood of all believers reminds me of Luther. The similarities between the two men go beyond the fact that both permanently shaped their respective national languages through their exceptional linguistic and translational skills. Tyndale was strongly influenced by Luther’s theological writings and may have even studied directly under him for a time. The following, though written of Tyndale, equally accurately describes Luther:

He believed that everyone in the congregation, informed by the Scriptures, had the right to admonish teachers and pastors when they went astray. All walks of life are holy callings. (Kindle Locations 7827-7829)

However, we should not imagine that Tyndale had no concept of an ordered ministry. Certain persons, mostly men, Tyndale thought, but also women (in case of emergency) were charged with preaching openly to the entire congregation. Tyndale opposed the idea that “the wagging of the bishop’s hand over us” had some supernatural power to make a preacher where there was none before. What mattered most was neither the ceremony of induction nor degrees earned at a college or university and certainly not the social status or rank of the preacher. Rather, what mattered most was the integrity of the message and the endowment of the Spirit. “When a true preacher preacheth,” wrote Tyndale, “the Spirit interrupts the hearts of the elect…” (Kindle Locations 7831-7837, emphasis added)

I want to end this survey of Tyndale’s ecclesiology where I began–by observing how fellowship around the Bible was central to his ecclesiology. Yet this fellowship, for Tyndale the “true preacher,” was not a self-centered withdrawal from the world, but one more way of sharing the love of God with all he met.

For nine months before his arrest, Tyndale lived in the English Merchants House in Antwerp… On Sundays he could be found in one of the largest rooms in the house reading a portion of the Scriptures, no doubt from his own translation. These readings would have included expositions of the text and pastoral applications as well. He repeated this exercise after dinner, “so fruitfully, sweetly, and gently” that he brought heavenly comfort to his listeners. On Mondays he would visit the English refugees who had come to Antwerp. On Saturdays he would walk around the city, looking into “every corner and hole” for those especially destitute—the elderly, women, children, the outcast. He gave liberally from the means he had to help those in need. He maintained a study in Merchants House and on all other days gave himself “wholly to his book.” In this brief sketch we see something of the pastoral calling at the heart of Tyndale’s work. (Kindle Locations 7850-7860, emphasis added)


Postscript

Although the theme of this series is ecclesiology, I am so impressed by Tyndale’s words about loving our neighbors that I cannot help sharing them also. And where better to begin loving our neighbors than right in our own churches? Listen and live:

“For as a man feeleth God in himself,” Tyndale wrote, “so is he to his neighbor.” Behind this principle is a view of Christian sociality that denies private ownership of one’s possessions in any absolute sense. This is how Tyndale put it: “For if my neighbor need and I give him not , neither depart liberally with him of that which I have, then withhold I from him unrighteously that which is his own.” And again: “Among Christian men love maketh all things common: every man is other’s debtor, and every man is bound to minister to his neighbor, and to supply his neighbor’s lack, of that wherewith God hath endowed him.”

But who is my neighbor? Tyndale answered that our neighbors are, in the first place, the members of our own family and household. Second, our neighbors include all those who live in proximity to us, “them of thine own parish,” as Tyndale put it, or, as we might say, the folks in our neighborhood. But our indebtedness to our neighbors extends far beyond this close circle, even to “the brethren a thousand miles off,” and, beyond that, “to the very infidels.” All these “have as good right in thy goods as thou thyself: and if thou withdraw mercy from them, and has wherewith to help them, then art thou a thief”! …“Neighbor is a love word,” he wrote. Loving our neighbors means that we pray for them, extend help and mercy to them in their need, and also share with them the message of Christ’s gospel. “Them that are good I love, because they are in Christ; and the evil, to bring them to Christ.” (Kindle Locations 7710-7724)

Tyndale extended the scope of Christian witness to include those outside the bounds of Christendom: “I am bound to love the Turk with all my might and power; yea, and above my power, even from the ground of my heart, after the example that Christ loved me; neither to spare goods, body, or life, to win him to Christ.” (Kindle Locations 7726-7728)


(Next up: some of my conclusions and questions as I reflect on the ecclesiology of the reformers.)

What did you learn from this survey of Tyndale’s ecclesiology? What should we learn from Tyndale yet today? Do we need to relearn the importance of choosing sound vocabulary when talking about the Church or our congregations? How does our ecclesiology line up with our soteriology? Are our churches gathered around the reading of the Scriptures? Share your insights and questions in the comments below!


PS: If you are enjoying this series, be sure to buy Timothy George’s book! He has much more to say than what I am sharing here. (Disclosure: The link above is an Amazon affiliate link, so I’ll make pennies if you buy the book.)

  1.  William S. Stafford, “Tyndale’s Voice to the Laity,” in Day, Lund, and O’Donnell, Word, Church, and State, 106.