3/1/53

Where are the Keys of the Kingdom?

Scripture: Matthew 16: 13-28

A man came to Jesus by night. The man was a prominent leader among his people, a Pharisee. He felt that there must be something essential in what Jesus had been saying to people. He wanted to know more about it. At the same time he was fearful, in a way. There was the matter of his own pride to consider; and the question of expediency as it affected his position. Maybe it was not prudent to be seen coming to the Nazarene teacher when many other folk were about in the daytime. So he came by night.

Nicodemus affirmed his belief that Jesus must be a teacher sent from God. And from that time on, he was asking questions in order to hear Jesus talk. We are not told in the Gospel of John whether any of the changing that Jesus talked about occurred in the life of Nicodemus. But we do know what he heard; for Jesus said to him that one must be born again, of the spirit, if one is to know what the kingdom of God, and peace in one’s own soul, are like. [John 3: 1-5]. There were many others who came to Jesus, among them one who came asking “what must I do to be saved?”

There is a growing awareness of the question in our time. It isn’t just a fearful inquiry as to how you or I can escape being blown to bits by new bombs. It is a question as to how we can have wholeness of life. And the convictions arises, and persists, that (1) we must be Christians in our generation, and that (2) we must help make more and better Christians. One of the hopes, concerning our new national administration, which we have heard expressed repeatedly, is that it will be more religious in tone, and temper and effect. Some utterances of officials add credibility to hope.

One former Secretary of State, John Foster Dulles, was a Christian man who has said: “The great lack of the world today is that there are too few Christians, and when I say Christians I do not mean those who seek ecclesiastical marriage and burial and who occasionally contribute to church support. I speak of the number of those who actually possess the spiritual qualities Christ taught and who realize such qualities are designed for practical use.” Most churchmen would agree. The thing that can revitalize our civilization, and save it, is a spiritual renewal. And there is a stirring among the churches, as well as in the lives of individual Christians, toward evangelism.

Now when the word “evangelism” is used, we had better know what we mean. A group of laymen from this church met, at lunch, several years ago with the Rev. Elmer S. Freeman, who was then Assistant Executive Director of the Congregational Christian Commission on Evangelism and Devotional Life. As he spoke, Mr. Freeman used the word “evangelism” frankly and freely. But he made it clear that he was not talking of revivalism as the “sawdust trail” techniques used to whip us emotion, especially a generation or two ago.

Essentially, evangelism is the communication of the Christian faith. And of course in order to communicate anything to others, one must first have some of it himself. We are aware of the statistics that say that more people of our nation are church members today than at any time before in our history. That is an encouraging fact. But it is far from a matter for complacency. For nearly half of our population has no active connection with any church, Protestant, Catholic or Jewish. And, to be honest, we must also admit that enthusiasm for the faith is much less than whole-hearted among those who are church- connected. There are those who maintain that, before anything of spiritual enlightenment can happen to us, something surgical must happen within us.

Our modern church is a field for evangelism, let alone being a force for evangelism. The churches are a part of what needs to be saved. If we picture the church here, possessing the gospel cure; and the sick world there, afraid of Christianity and refusing to apply it; we had better re-appraise the situation as part of our discipline of the spirit. For far too many of us, inside and outside the church, are afraid of the gospel. The apostle Paul courageously affirmed his faith in the words: “I am not ashamed of the gospel.” [Romans 1: 16]. One modern Christian, when quoting Paul, changes it to read: “I am not afraid of the gospel.” It may be permissible to translate the word as “fear,” for fear and shame are very closely related. To be ashamed of the gospel is to be afraid of it; afraid of accepting it wholly and without reservation; afraid of the appearance of wanting to share it with others; afraid of its demands on us and upon others. If we be at all afraid of it, how can we effectively share it with others?

A good many churches of the warm and sunny South are said to have a zeal and fire which we do not show forth in the churches of the cooler North. A preaching mission was being held in a small church in Florida. The church was not depending alone on the eloquence of the preacher for results in personal conversions. But at each evening service, an old layman, who was an officer of the church, was asked to lead in prayer. Invariably he prayed for the people in the back row of seats. Those back seats were occupied, practically every evening, by some young men who were not in the habit of attending church regularly. They would file in noisily in the middle of a hymn. The old man was glad they were there, wanted them to become Christian, and with sound instinct, felt constrained to pray for them every evening. But the visiting minister said he thought it necessary, in order to get the people in the back seats, for something to happen to the people in the front seats. And he asked of them and of all other church members a frank question: “Are we afraid of the gospel?”

Perhaps it were a good idea to head into that question honestly. For if there are to be more Christians in our land and in the world, and if the evils of the earth can be met by a truly Christian answer, then many, many of us must be more thoroughly committed to our faith. The churches are filled with people who do not yet know the joy of witnessing for their faith. They are a drag on the possibility of a spiritual awakening in the world because there is so little in them to remind anyone of the Christ. Surely there ought to be a difference, which anyone could detect, between a Christian and some average run of fairly decent pagans. To have seen the light of Christ; to have been baptized in his faith and confirmed, by one’s own vows, in his church; to have participated in the worship of God; to have supported and participated in His work ought to make a significant difference.

Perhaps the throngs that crowd the churches on a Sunday are bound together mixed motives: (1) a great hunger, and (2) a great fear. (1) Hunger for God to come into our lives, and (2) fear that He may! For in coming too close, He might interfere with some of our ways; might put too relentless a finger on some of our desires. Christianity is an awful thing. It comes directly to us and demands a kind of unconditional surrender to God. And we are more than half-inclined to fear that.

A man who went through some deep questionings about his faith, described his conversion (that is to say, his final full acceptance of God’s righteousness for him) as a controversy over keys. He wanted Christ in his life, and he presented himself for discipleship. He says the hand of Christ reached out for the keys to his life. He fumbled in his pocket and produced the keys, somewhat reluctantly. But he kept one key back. For there were some rooms of his life that he did not want unlocked or changed. Frankly, he didn’t want to be under the complete control of Christ. But there was enough conflict within his life so that he felt twisted, incomplete and unhappy. He says that finally, sick of his evasion, he handed over the last key. And then he was possessed of the Christ so fully that his witness was a joy.

It may be that fear of Christ’s gentle yet strong and insistent demands plagues the church too; dims its light, and confuses its witness. Do we hunt for less costly ways of serving him - on a sort of part-time basis? Perhaps some of our church activity is compromised conviction. We are attracted to ritual, to esthetic satisfaction; lovely music, and devotional literature. I think God has no controversy with any of these -- if they be the means of our drawing closer to His will. But we deny Him and delude ourselves if we allow these things to be substitutes for the actual giving of our whole obedience to His righteousness.

One may pause, in the midst of breathless effort, to wonder if a lot of church “activity” honors God with our whole consecration. Surely God has no controversy with organized effort; our committees, board work, budgets, brief cases, and other busyness -- if they are a key given to rather than a key withheld from Him. It may be possible for “doing church work” to be, as Leslie Weatherhead put it, not an expression of surrender to God but an evasion of His will; a device to keep our conscience quiet. Let us not be busy trying to give others what we do not ourselves have. But if we have it, let our activity be dedicated to sharing it.

The first step to an awakening on the outside is a thorough cleansing and awakening within. We must bring our lives before the gaze of God and test our minds by the mind of Christ. Are we keeping the keys of the kingdom in our pocket, or are we putting them all at the disposal of the Master? While we are trying to dare examine ourselves, let us look deeper. Before we can expect a Christian world, or more Christians in it, we must overcome our fear of the implications of the gospel, what it means in terms of application.

Some years ago, Orson Wells frightened people along the Atlantic coast out of their wits with his dramatic radio adaptation of H. G. Wells’ book, “The War of the Worlds.” Author H. G. Wells took it as no compliment. He said that the trouble came from taking undue liberties with the story and moving it to a too-close location. Halford Luccock commented: “That is what the preacher needs constantly to keep in mind. As long as we leave the gospel in Palestine, in the past, or in a book, nobody will be disturbed. It is when we move it to our own neighborhood that the trouble begins.”

And you remember how it was in Jesus’ own case. He preached in his home town of Nazareth, reading some words from the prophet Isaiah. The people liked the reading and approved it. But when he began interpreting, moving the meaning to a close location, to say what the words meant in terms of their action, he ran across one of their deepest prejudices. They rose in wrath and drove him out. [Luke 4: 16-30]. They had no idea religion had any such implications.

We agree with generalities. We pray the Lord’s Prayer on Sunday saying, “Our Father” and asking for “our (whose?) daily bread.” On a Tuesday we vote on the tariff without any exhaustive thought on what that does to the daily bread of myriads. We try to maintain a place for ourselves, and often to keep the fellow of other race, color, creed, class or vocation in his place, without realizing that our Christ has something vital to say about it! It comes as a surprise to a great many folk that religion has anything to do with economic, social, or political matters. But surely our faith does have a direct bearing on our attitudes and influence and decision in these matters, quite as much as in matters of personal salvation --- or it is no religion at all. In fact, there is no right way of separating the personal and the social demands of our Christian faith if we are to escape the charge of hypocrisy.

What difference does it make if a candidate for public office announces that he is a Christian? (If he tells you he is a Socialist, or a Communist, or a Republican or a Democrat, that makes a difference!) Vagueness is probably a weakness in Christians. And it confuses too many people all over the world. Non-Christians have seen Christian churches support Fascism where its properties and prerogatives are protected. They have seen the Christians mixed up with the Ku Klux Klan, and the doctrine of white supremacy, and all sorts of reactionary forces. They have seen a few hot headed foolish ones go all out for communism, blinded to its ruthlessness.

The Gospel must be related, as a gospel, to our corporate living as well as our personal lives. We must, further, overcome our fear of the Gospel in its dedication ---- what it means in terms of redeeming love. We know very well that the churches would grow stronger and multiply their influence amazingly if there were more of us so gripped by the gospel that we really cared. Love has always been the key to the world’s wild and unregenerate heart.

A famous doctor, specialist in care of children, said of a scrawny, irritable baby he had examined: “What this baby needs is to be loved.” The prescription could be widened to include not just that particular baby, but all babies and all people.

The earth has so much of hate. It is torn by its hates, saddened by its tragedy, orphaned by its sins. People must be made to feel again the healing touch of compassion. God has set his church here to know and to proclaim his love. We are not really hostile to evangelism. We are only embarrassed, misunderstanding and afraid. Afraid to love, afraid to have the gospel at its fair price.

We want our children to know and love God as Father. Do we want it enough to teach them line by line, day by day -- not just to leave it to the Sunday School, or an occasion contact with the minister or the Church service -- but to talk openly and confidently about Christ’s way in our homes?

Do we want the unchurched, the stranger, those who have become neglectful in the fellowship of the spirit, enough to ask them, frankly, fairly and faithfully to join with the rest of us poor sinners in His church?

The price is high. It’s worth it! Let’s pay it!

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Dates and places delivered:

Wisconsin Rapids, March 1, 1953.

Wisconsin Rapids, April 16, 1961.