Toward a Biblical Doctrine of the Church

By Edmund P. Clowney

Westminster Theological Seminary, Philadelphia

AN INVITATION to ecclesiology sounds rather less appealing than a guided tour of a cathedral crypt. It is the more astonishing that there are so many tour guides. Fascination with the doctrine of the church has marked the span of the last forty years. Oddly enough, the church has been a concern to itself in just the period that it has ceased being a concern to anyone else. J. C. Hoekendijk has been glad to draw a moral: “In history a keen ecclesiological interest his, almost without exception, been a sign of spiritual decadence…….”[1] In periods of revival, reformation, or missionary advance, says Hoekendijk, the church is absorbed in Christology and eschatology; it then takes ecclesiology lightly—Luther thanked God that a child of seven knows what the church is.

Hoekendijk’s protest commands the sympathy of everyone who, like him, has gasped for “unchurchified” air in ecumenical conference prose. His remedy is another matter; as the professor turns the church “inside out”[2] to give it a secular form, one wonders if a simpler solution might not have occurred to a child of seven.

In any case, ecclesiology can be neither ignored nor abandoned; silence will not correct abuse. The overwhelming concentration on the structure of the church in the reports of the ecumencial movement requires consideration and response, particularly on the part of those who find the World Council of Churches’ structure itself questionable on ecclesiological grounds.

The recent development of the Roman Catholic doctrine of the church is marked by the Lumen Gentium of Vatican II[3] and by the writings of many individual theologians: Karl Rahner, Edward Schillebeeckx, Yves Congar, Rudolf Schnackenburg. Hans Küng’s The Church[4] shows the importance for ecclesiology of the fruits of biblical studies and also the effects of higher criticism in Roman Catholic thought. Trends in contemporary ecclesiology link Rome with the ecumenical movement.

The world-wide discussion of ecclesiology may make study of the subject desirable; more critical needs make it necessary. Confusion about the form of the church can cripple Christian service. It is not only fellowship that suffers when the church is “out of shape.” The charge that there are “heretical structures” as well as heretical doctrines is one to be pondered. Evangelism, edification, worship—all will be affected when Christian groups fall short of the fullness of New Testament church structure.

When churches become apostate, only a clear application of biblical principles can serve to guide the scattered flock; similarly, when sincere Christians have created organizations to carry forward most church functions, the question cannot be put off: How does the Bible relate such functions?

The burning issues of church unity or division, apostolicity or apostasy, holiness or worldliness, universality or sectarianism—all hinge on an understanding of the biblical doctrine of the church. This doctrine is not an end in itself. It points to Christ the Head of the church, indeed to the triune God. But only as the church stands under the Word of God can it discover its own nature and calling.

Let us consider three of the motifs of contemporary ecclesiology as a background for a brief examination of the biblical theology of the church. These motifs appeal to the headship of Christ; they claim to make ecclesiology relevant to our time and to dissolve old barriers.

The first might be described as a trend toward the socializing of the church. It protests an individual conception of salvation on the ground that participation in Christ the Head can take place only in his body. Salvation is corporate and is found in the solidarity of the new humanity of which Christ is the head. A corporate redemption cannot be the possession of any until it is the possession of all. The solidarity of the church is that of the firstfruits, the pledge of the solidarity of humanity.[5]

This principle is often applied to an appeal for the redemption of social structures rather than of individual men. Oppressive social structures are identified as the principalities and powers or the “elements” of this world (properly demy- thologized).[6] These have been overcome by Christ’s victory and are redeemed. They are now summed up in Christ as the Head. The church is committed to a public ministry of conflict with the “powers” of politics and society.

According to this view, the expression of the solidarity and public social ministry of the church cannot be confined by intellectualistic creedal formulations or by doctrinaire forms of polity developed from a narrower conception of the churchly sphere. When the church is reconceived in terms of a social solidarity manifesting the firstfruits of the new humanity, the key aspects of its manifestation are ecumencial and social action. So viewed, the ecumenical movement bears more authentic marks of the church than do the divided denominations which are members of it.

The Roman Catholic church declares the necessity of the hierarchical ministry against such ecumenical pretensions, but it has developed a similar doctrine of social function as a unitive ministry of the church. “Because the human race today is joining more and more into a civic, economic, and social unity, it is that much more necessary that priests, united in concern and effort under the leadership of the bishops and the Supreme Pontiff, wipe out every kind of division, so that the whole human race may be brought into the unity of the family of God.”[7]

This socializing tendency underlies the new universalism. A working committee of the World Council of Churches declares: “By the raising up of the New Man, Christ Jesus, every man has been made a member of the New Mankind. We would seriously ask, therefore, whether we should assume that God’s ultimate plan is to incorporate all men into the Church. The Church, rather, may have to be seen as the minister of the new covenant, accepting and dealing with man and society as already belonging to the New Mankind, however little they look like it, since faith is the evidence of things not seen.”[8]

Whether such a statement is made as an assertion or a question seems to be only a matter of rhetoric. The salvation in view is not personal but corporate, therefore the shalom of the kingdom cannot be objectified. It cannot be possessed. It can only happen. “Shalom is a social happening, an event in inter-personal relations.”[9]

The crux of the matter is that the church cannot be distin-guished from the world by salvation, but only by its conscious-ness of the world’s salvation.

A second trend in contemporary ecclesiology is toward the secularizing of the church. Again the headship of Christ is made the theological starting point. If Christ is the head of the world as well as of the church, and if his kingdom is one, then there can be no fundamental difference between the church and the world as his kingdom, his dominion.[10] As Heinrich Schlier puts it in his study of the headship of Christ: “When as the risen Lord He takes control of the world in His body, He is simply actualising His real power over creation. Hence the Church as His body, when it relates the world to itself, is simply in process of taking over what truly belongs to it….It is fundamentally a kind of cosmos. It is thus forced to organise itself, not as a private society, but as a public body.”[11]

The solidarity of the church with the world has long been emphasized in the ecclesiology of the ecumenical movement. It was to stress this point that the theme of the Second Assembly of the World Council of Churches (Evanston, 1954) was changed from “Christ the Hope of the Church and the World” to “Christ, the Hope of the World.” The church must have no private hope. For the same reason the Third Assembly (New Delhi, 1961) removed the word “our” from the phrase “our Lord Jesus Christ” in the basis of the World Council. “Our” might appear to be restrictive, as though Christ were the Lord of the church only, or in some exclusive sense.[12]

We are now told that the “marks of the church” are not signs that set it off from the world but rather the ending of all separation and distinction[13] in a community of the solidarity to come. Gibson Winter sharply contrasts the Reformation Church as a confessional assembly setting itself in juxta-position to the world with the “prophetic fellowship” of the servant Church in a secularized world. This church “…stands within the milieu of the historical responsibility of mankind, acknowledging with men and before God their true identity as the New Mankind, the New Creation, in the shaping of this world.”[14] The church has no divided loyalty or “escape hatch” to heaven. It takes part with man in man’s work, the creation of the future.

This secularizing trend has a further implication. If the church stands in solidarity with the world, it may use worldly instruments. A secular church wields secular power. Gibson Winter says that the servant church must participate in the public life of metropolis: “…the public spheres of social, economic, educational and political life will have to provide the main fields of ministry for the servant Church in coming decades….”[15] George Webber says bluntly, “In short, evangelism, in its varied dimensions, is politics.”[16] A report of the Division of Studies of the World Council of Churches puts the matter a little less sharply: “If Christian energy is directed only toward the benevolent amelioration of bad conditions, it falls short. It must also help to ensure that the structure of society is changed so that injustice is overcome.”[17]

The theology of secularization calls the church to abandon the spiritual discipline demanded by the Reformation marks of the church, since these serve to set the church as a believing and redeemed community over against the world. The new means of discipline, appropriate to the secular form of the church, are the means of temporal power—not excluding the power of the sword. A “theology of revolution” is now advocated as a logical consequence of the secularization of the church.[18] If Scripture is not revelation, but only a record of man’s response to revelation, then the question may be asked, where are God’s revealing acts today?

“Where man is being set free” is the answer of a secular theology. The humanizing forces are those that free man from bondage to the “elements” of nature or history. Humanizing is therefore the same as secularizing: bringing in the social “shalom” of the kingdom by destroying idolatrous power structures. Where then is Christ to be found outside the church? This is the answer given in The Church for Others: “Can we not say that where the world is left to be the world, the secular left to be secular, thus being at the free disposal of men, Christ is at work?”[19] Or, still more emphatically, God is declared to be acting in the revolutionary movements of our time.[20]

We must join these movements to go where God’s action is. The violence that may be found in them need not trouble one who has rejected an absolutistic ethic.[21] In the situation, advancing the revolution is the only way to act with God. The messianic goal described in the New Testament by such images as the new heaven and earth, the new Jerusalem, and the kingdom of God is fulfilled by humanization,[22] and revolution is the way to humanization.

How then does the Christian differ from the Communist as they together promote revolution? The secular theology answers that the Christian will bear witness against the fixed ideology of Communism because it assigns absolute value to relative ends. The church, in contrast, does not have a fixed goal in view. Its hope is open-ended. “It anticipates change but does not predict the nature of change.”[23] It does not therefore establish social control for itself. Apparently the complete relativism of the church’s goal is the one safeguard against converting the church directly into a political power structure.

A third tendency in contemporary ecclesiology sometimes clashes with the trends to the socializing and secularizing of the church. It is the drift toward the sacramentalizing of the church. This tendency does not confuse the church with the world but with Christ. The headship of Christ is made the basis for this sacramental approach also. Anders Nygren says: “Christ is not the Head merely, but the Head of the Church; the Church is not merely the Body but the Body of Christ. The Body of Christ is Christ Himself. The Church is Christ as He after the resurrection is present among us and meets us here on earth.”[24] Nygren insists that Christ is present in a real way through his Word and sacrament and that where the action of the Word and sacrament takes place, the church as the body of Christ exists.[25] Bishop Robinson is ready to add to this that the “body” of the Lord’s Supper is “to be interpreted corporally, as the extension of the life and person of the incarnate Christ beyond His resurrection and ascension.”[26] He declares, “It is almost impossible to exaggerate the materialism and crudity of Paul’s doctrine of the Church as literally now the resurrection body of Christ.”[27]

Roman Catholic theology also makes the connection between the physical presence of Christ in the sacrament and in the church as an extension of the Incarnation. The church is necessary for salvation for this reason. “For Christ, made present to us in His Body, which is the Church, is the one Mediator and the unique Way of salvation.”[28] As Christ’s physical body was joined to his divine nature to serve as the instrument of salvation, so the visible hierarchical structure of the church is joined to Christ’s Spirit for the same purpose.[29] The church is therefore spoken of as the “universal sacrament of salvation.”[30]

A view of the church as sacramental need not require the presence of the physical substance of the body of Christ in the Eucharist. If Christ’s sacrifice is represented in the sacrament, then the continuing action rather than the substance becomes the vehicle of Christ’s continuing presence. The current sacramentalism in ecclesiology is centered in action, in event. Christ’s redeeming action continues in the church and through the church so that the church fulfills mediatorial role, standing before God in the place of the world and praying in the name of the world.[31]

The sacramental role of the church according to such views goes beyond the dispensing of the sacraments. The church itself is sacramental as the body of Christ. On the one hand, it is both a sign and an actualization of the presence of Christ; on the other hand, it is a sign and seal of the incorporation of all men into Christ.

Underlying the trends we have considered: the socializing, the secularizing, and the sacramentalizing of the church, there are theological conceptions in common. The new ecclesiology is developed in categories of process. The church is not to be understood in terms of “being” but of “becoming.” Rather than defining the existence or nature of the church the new approach seeks to describe the function and ministry of the church.

Claude Welch has shown that the roots of the dynamic approach in ecclesiology go deeper. The same shift in categories can be applied to Christology. Welch maintains that a consistent theology of the church as “being-in-relation” must be grounded in a Christology restated in terms of becoming. His book The Reality of the Church[32] therefore develops a dynamistic Christology in which the divine and human are seen as a dialectical polarity to be resolved in terms of personal relatedness rather than in terms of abstract natures. The incarnate Christ as well as the church exists in act. We may ask whether the same relationalism may not be pushed back into the doctrine of the Trinity. Indeed, this is the force of Cyril Richardson’s effort to clarify that doctrine.[33] Again a polarity is analyzed, between God in his absolute transcendence and God in his relations with men. The polarity cannot be resolved in thought but only in personal relatedness. No third term is necessary. Richardson, in arguing against Welch’s trinitarian position, appears to be making a more consistent application of a dynamic and relational rather than a static or metaphysical theology.

There remains, of course, one more level for relationalism to penetrate. Why should the “being” of God remain metaphysically aloof from the relativity of process? The God of our fathers has no place in the history of our time. The new age that is breaking in has lost the transcendent world. But the “word” that exists only in its own movement is not dismayed. God is dead, but process remains and relationalism can flourish.[34] So reasons Thomas Altizer.

Now it may appear reckless to move at full gallop from the dynamism of contemporary ecclesiology to the dynamism of the death-of-God movement. The layman is understandably shocked by this radical theology, and modern theologians seem exasperated by its caricature of their teaching. Yet, it is well to realize that the history of thought often shows a stubborn consistency. The doctrine of the church cannot be isolated in contemporary theology. Urgent practical considerations drive us to face its issues, but our understanding of it must grow from renewed understanding of the full theology of the Bible. Neither theology nor the church will be advanced by our adopting viewpoints in ecclesiology that are inconsistent with what we have learned from other and more central areas of God’s revealed truth. There is fresh dynamic in the theology of Scripture, a dynamic of the Spirit of truth that will burst the alien rigidities that orthodoxy has not always escaped. But that dynamic never makes void the Word of God. It fulfills it.

To approach the doctrine of the church in this secular world we need the fullness of the biblical description. The Bible does not begin with man but with God. According to the Bible, the church is the people of God, the kingdom and body of Christ, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit. It has been said with some reason that each of these approaches is favored in one ecclesiastical heritage. The Reformed family of churches is said to conceive of the church as the people of God, the sacramental churches to think of it as the body of Christ, and the pentecostal churches to regard it as the fellowship of the Spirit.[35] No doubt we are all in danger of ignoring the rich balance of the biblical revelation, and, in particular, of focusing on one figure exclusively. There is no one figure, not even that of the human body, which summarizes the whole of ecclesiology.

A. The People of God

“But ye are an elect race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for God’s own possession, that ye may show forth the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvellous light: who in time past were no people, but now are the people of God; who had not obtained mercy, but now have obtained mercy” (1 Pet 2:9, 10). In this passage Peter weaves together a number of Old Testament passages (Ex 19:6; Isa 43:20, 21; Hos 1:6, 9; 2:1). The relationship between God and His people was disrupted by sin. Israel was made Lo-ami, not my people. But the promise of the prophets has been fulfilled. By God’s grace, those who were no people, whether covenant-breaking Jews or Gentiles outside the covenant, are made the people of God and receive mercy. Out of the restored relationship of God and his people there comes praise. The phrase “show forth the excellencies” has for its background Isa 43:21, “the people which I formed for myself, that they might set forth my praise.” In this passage of Isaiah as in the Psalms, the praises of God are declared by a redeemed people.

The people of God are a treasure-people, a people for God’s own possession. The relationship that defines the church is this relationship of possession by God.

There is indeed an activism in the Scriptural conception of the people of God. The church is the assembly of God, those who are called to God. The Greek term ἐκκλησία (ecclesia) is used in the Septuagint to translate the Hebrew term קָהָל (qahal). Of the two words commonly used for the congregation of God’s people in the Old Testament, qahal views the congregation as actually assembled while דָה (ʿedhah) refers to the congregation whether assembled or not. It is natural, therefore, to speak of “the assembly (qahal) of the congregation” (ʿedhah, Num 14:5). The Greek word ecclesia appropriately translates qahal because it, too, describes an assembly which is actually gathered. Some scholars have concluded that the term ecclesia came to be applied to the church because of the actual assembling of the local congregation. Paul, for example, speaks in very active terms of the ecclesia in 1 Cor 14:19, 28, 34. Other scholars have insisted that the term ecclesia has no theological significance whatever, but is simply used to describe a gathering like the “assembly” at Ephesus (Acts 19:41).[36]

Such a conclusion, however, does not do justice to the Old Testament background for the New Testament use of the term. The fact that qahal and ecclesia are active terms does not mean that they lack theological content. To the contrary. The great and definitive assembly of Israel was the assembly at Sinai. It was the actual gathering together of Israel “in the day of the assembly” (Deut 4:10, LXX; 9:10; 10:4; 18:16) that marked the climax of God’s redemption and constituted the people as the people of God. God commanded Moses, “Gather the people to me” (Deut 4:10). This assembly at Sinai was the immediate objective of the exodus (Exod 5:1). The sound of the trumpet from the top of Sinai was the signal for a solemn assembly of the people before God. Num 10:1–10 provides for the blowing of the two silver trumpets by the priests as a signal for later assemblies of the congregation at the door of the tent of meeting.

The assemblies of Israel for worship, for war, or for the triumphant march through the desert all had a sacral character. They, too, were solemn assemblies for worship. Later renewals of the covenant were made by an assembled Israel (e. g., Josh 9:2). The people were directed to assemble three times a year for the feasts of the sacred calendar (See Lev 23).

Among the great assemblies of the Old Testament are: the assembly convoked by David to secure the succession for Solomon (1 Chron 28, 29); the assembly for the dedication of Solomon’s temple (2 Chron 5:2); Jehoshaphat’s assembly (2 Chron 20:5, 14); the assembly at the crowning of Joash (2 Chron 23:3); and the assembly of Nehemiah after the exile (Neh 5). When the restoration of the people of God is promised by the prophet Joel, the image of the assembly is used again (Joel 2:15–17). The prophets tell of the ingathering of the Gentiles to the great festival assembly of God (Isa 2:2–40; 56:6–8; Psa 87). The sacred assembly includes heaven as well as earth. God was present on Mount Sinai in the midst of the heavenly assembly of his holy ones and with the earthly assembly at his feet (Deut 33). Those who stand in God’s assembly are “all His holy saints” (Deut 33:3).

The festival assemblies on Mount Zion are used by the author of Hebrews in the twelfth chapter to describe the New Testament church. We are assembled not to the fire and smoke of Mount Sinai, fire and smoke that could be touched, but rather to God who is a consuming fire and to the festival assembly of the saints and the angels in the heavenly Zion. To this heavenly assembly we come, for here is Christ, the Mediator of the New Covenant. Indeed, the Christian church consists of this assembly. The active sense of the people of God assembled in the heavenlies with Christ dominates the New Testament conception of the church. The outpouring of the Spirit on the festival of Pentecost manifests the continuity of the church with the prophetic promises for the renewed and reformed people of God.

It is the heavenly reality which gives such significance to the earthly gathering of even two or three in Christ’s name. Even when Paul speaks of the Corinthian Christians coming together in assembly (1 Cor 11:18; 14:26, 28), the phrase has theological significance. The ecclesia of God is that assembly before the Lord of which Sinai was the great pattern, which is realized in Corinth by those holy ones upon whom the ends of the ages are come, as they await the final gathering together in the assembly of the parousia (2 Thess 2:1). The holy ones stand before the Lord to bless his name with the tongues of men and of angels (1 Cor 13:1; 14:16). A synonymous expression for a church in a particular locality is “those who call upon the name of our Lord Jesus Christ in that place” (1 Cor 1:2), where public worship is in view.

The assembly of God exists wherever God is in the midst of his people. At Corinth, as the people of God meet together and the gift of prophecy makes evident his presence, the unbeliever “will fall down on his face and worship God, declaring that God is among you indeed” (1 Cor 14:25). The hearing of the Word, the singing of psalms, the uttering of prophecy, all that occurred in the great assemblies of old finds realization in the New Testament church, but above all, the Gentiles fall down and confess the presence of God (Isa 45:14). It is hard for us to think theologically enough to appreciate the New Testament force of the concept of the church. Our tensions between the church as universal and local, informal and institutional, do not exist for the New Testament writers. The church they know exists before the face of the Lord, in the heavenly Jerusalem and therefore at Corinth. Both the catholicity and the localization of the church are manifested in the power and presence of the Spirit. Where the Lord is, among the holy angels, there his people come; where two or three of his people gather in his name, there the Lord is in the midst.

Closely connected with the Scriptural concept of assembly is that of the house of dwelling. The concept of assembly stresses the immediacy of God’s presence among the gathered people. The concept of the house of dwelling stresses the permanence of God’s presence. God does not only meet with his people as they are summoned to appear before him, he also dwells with them. If Sinai in the desert was the place of meeting between God and his people, then Zion in the promised land is the place of dwelling. Psa 68:5 blesses God in his holy habitation of heaven (see verses 33, 35), but also says of the “mountain which God hath desired for his abode” that “Jehovah will dwell in it forever” (verse 16). The tabernacle or temple symbolized the dwelling of God among his people: “And I will set my tabernacle among you: and my soul shall not abhor you. And I will walk among you, and will be your God, and ye shall be my people” (Lev 26:11, 12).

The dwelling of God in the midst of his people creates an immediate threat. The fire of God’s holiness consumes sinners. The place of God’s dwelling is therefore the place of sacrifice where atonement is made for sin. The plan of the tabernacle and the temple presents a way of approach to God through the shedding of blood. Because God dwells in the midst of his people they are a kingdom of priests, a holy nation (Exod 19:6). It is God’s presence in the midst which separates his people from all the people on the face of the earth (Exod 33:16).

In the New Testament the figure of the temple is applied both to Christ and his church. In Christ “the Word became flesh and tabernacled among us, and we beheld his glory” (John 1:14). The church itself is the temple, the house of God, sanctified by the presence of the Spirit (1 Cor 3:16). Because the temple is holy, God will destroy anyone who defiles it (verse 17). The sanctions which protected the temple are divinely directed to guard the church. The holiness of the church demands separation on the part of believers. This distinction is ethical, religious, and social (2 Cor 6:14–16). God dwells among his people (verse 16), and the church is thereby called out to holiness (verses 17, 18; chapter 7:1). Christians must go outside the gate of Jerusalem (Heb 13:13) and Babylon (Rev 18:4), having no fellowship with sin. Such separation shares the reproach of Christ, but also shares his holiness, for he is the stone rejected of the builders who is made the chief cornerstone of the true temple. The rejected stone is the elect stone (Isa 28:16; 1 Pet 2:6), chosen of God and precious. Coming to this living stone, Christians are built spiritually into one living temple, a house not made with hands.

The spiritual edifice is the place of spiritual service: the holy priesthood of the new Israel, sanctified not in flesh and garments but in spirit, offers spiritual sacrifices of praise and benevolence acceptable to God through Christ (1 Pet 2:5; Heb 13:15; Phil 3:3; Rom 12:1).

The assembly and dwelling figures are intensely theological, for they show God as present in the midst of his people. The people of God are not an already existing nation brought into relationship with him. They are constituted by God’s assembling and God’s dwelling. Nationalism became a sin to the theocratic people, but the theocracy was not founded in nationalism. God’s people are united to each other only because they are united to God. God’s word gives Abraham his beloved son Isaac; God’s word constitutes Israel as his son in the desert. God’s covenant with his people is neither individualistic nor ethnic in the modern sense. God’s mercies are promised to a thousand generations of them that fear him; the circumcision of all the male children signified the sanctification of every generation to the Lord. Yet, strangers and sojourners may be admitted to the assembly and people of God, and gain an inheritance in Israel (Exod 12:47–49; 23:9).

On the other hand, rejection of the covenant merits death (e. g., Lev 24:16); a father must denounce his own son if he blasphemes (Deut 13:6–11).

The sin of Israel brings down the curses of the covenant. So great is the resulting destruction that the restoration from exile is likened by the prophets to a resurrection (Ezek 37:1–10). The people of God must be made the people of God by a new miracle of redemption.

Paul recognizes this principle in claiming for the church of the Gentiles the status and blessing of the people of God. The church is the λαός (laos, 2 Cor 6:16), the true Israel as over against Israel of the flesh (Rom 9:6, 7, 24–26; cf. 1 Cor 10:18; 12:2); the people of the new covenant (2 Cor 3:3–18); the sons of Abraham (Gal 3:7); the circumcision (Phil 3:3); the children of the heavenly Jerusalem (Gal 4:21–31); no longer strangers or aliens but fellow citizens with the saints and of the household of God (Eph 2:12, 19).

The way in which the people of God are joined together by his assembling and presence produces their distinctive fellowship. The people of God are not to be numbered among the nations (Num 23:9). James reflects this consciousness when, in the council at Jerusalem, he speaks of the calling of the Gentiles in these words: “Simeon hath rehearsed how first God visited the Gentiles [ε῎θνη, ethne] to take out of them a people [laos] for his name” (Acts 15:14). G. Ernest Wright has shown the balance between individual and community consciousness in the covenant people.37 He points out, for example, the alternation between “you” and “ye” in the divine commands. Because of the theocentric character of the community the individual is neither submerged and absorbed, nor isolated and estranged. The sharing of the people of God in the inheritance given by God and in God himself as the inheritance of his people beautifully manifests the brotherhood and fellowship that is constituted by the bond of covenant redemption.

Because God is King in the covenant assembly at Sinai (Deut 33:5), his people are made a kingdom: “and ye shall be unto me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation” (Exod 19:6). Particularly in the praise of God in the Psalms his kingly rule over his people is celebrated, and this rule is seen to have universal scope. God’s rule does not end with Israel, it extends to the ends of the earth and endures forever. Yet, the extension of God’s power over all the nations does not imply that the nations are made recipients of Israel’s blessing. Rather, the Gentiles are summoned to fear the Lord, and the rebellious kings are warned of the wrath of Jehovah. God’s kingdom is now over every kingdom (Dan 2:37ff), but it will also come in power to destroy all earthly kingdoms and remain forever (Dan 2:44). This eternal kingdom is given to the one like unto a son of man and to the saints of the Most High (Dan 7:14, 18, 27). Only as the nations are drawn in to be numbered with the people of God can they share in the relationship of blessing.

The relation of the people of God to the nations comes to expression particularly in connection with the choosing of the people of God. Election expresses God’s sovereignty in dealing with his people. They have not chosen him, he has chosen them. God chooses Abraham and calls him. God chooses Isaac and not Ishmael, for “in Isaac shall thy seed be called” (Gen 21:12). God chooses Jacob rather than Esau. Paul stresses this in Rom 9:11–13, referring to Mal 1:2, 3. The election of the nation is in fulfillment of the promise to the patriarchs (Deut 4:37).

The free choice of God in the election of Israel is underscored by the assertion that there is no ground for election in those who are chosen. Only the undeserved love of God can account for the choosing of Israel (Deut 7:7–8; 10:14–17).

Yet God’s sovereign choice has a ground in God himself. It is free, but not arbitrary or purposeless. God’s “good pleasure” is not determined by anything outside himself, but it is his own will and is therefore determined by his own nature and purposes. The twofold purpose of election is stated in the Old Testament. It is related to God himself and to his service in the world. Recent theology has stressed election for service. It is true that the choosing and calling of Abraham has for its background the purpose of God that in Abraham all the nations of the earth should be blessed.

God does bless Israel, that his way might be made known upon the earth and his salvation among all nations (Psa 67:2).

Yet the great ground and purpose of God’s election is in God himself. God does not first choose Israel that he might use Israel. God does not choose the spiritually fit. The only fitness God requires is weakness, folly, nothingness, that no flesh should glory before him (1 Cor 1:26–31). Love seeks not ours but us. God chose his people because he loved them. His greatest purpose was not to use them but to own them. That is why the elect people are a “people of possession.” All the earth is the Lord’s, but Israel is God’s possession from the peoples (Exod 19:5; see also Mal 3:17; Psa 135:4; Titus 2:14; 1 Pet 2:9; Eph 1:14). The purpose of God to possess his people with jealous love and to put his name upon them in blessing does not conflict with the demands which God makes upon them. To be and to remain the people of God’s possession they must keep his covenant, as these same passages show. They must manifest the holiness of the separated people.

Yet, in the Old Testament as in the New, nothing can be set above the love of God for his people. The praise and glory of God which springs from it (Isa 43:21) only reflects the mysterious wonder of the absoluteness of that love. The two primary figures used to express God’s jealous, electing love are a father’s love for his firstborn son and a husband’s love for his wife (Exod 4:22, 23; Deut 32:6; Hos 1:10; Ezek 16:6; Zeph 3:17).

God elects his people to a position as well as a ministry, to status as well as to service. God’s love chooses his son, his bride, not merely his servant. God’s love is active, but that which it creates is an assured relationship.

On the one hand, God’s choosing does not create an elite people or a master race. Abuse of God’s calling results in singular judgment: “You only have I known of the families of the earth; therefore will I visit upon you all your iniquities” (Amos 3:2, but see 9:9).

On the other hand, God’s choosing does create his people. The people are acquired (Exod 15:16), redeemed (Exod 15:13). They are the Lord’s portion (Deut 32:9), the lot of his inheritance (Deut 32:9). Israel, as the Lord’s inheritance, is that which he has received, as it were, by lot. God’s portion may be described as his vineyard (Jer 12:7–9), his “pleasant portion,” his house. The people of God are the “apple of his eye” (Deut 32:10). God’s delight is in them (Num 14:8). In the final realization of the covenant mercies, Zion will be named Hephzibah, “my delight is in her” (Isa 62:4).

A host of other terms describe the position of the people of God. They are people near to him, borne on his shoulders, kept in his arms, held in his hand, lifted up by his right hand, seated at his feet, gathered before his face, engraved on the palms of his hands. In the symbol of the graven stones of the high priest’s breastplate, the people of God are set on his shoulder and worn on his heart.

The extravagance of the language of love can say no more than God says to his people. All these precious promises may become a hideous caricature when they are seized in self-righteousness. Yet this sinful distortion should not blind us to the wonder of God’s electing love.

When the people of God do profane the intimate relation which God has appointed for them, the “vengeance of the covenant” (Lev 26:25) is poured out. For the adulterous wife there is stoning (Ezek 16:40). The rebellious son may be cast out (Hos 11:1, 8; 12:14; 12:1). The pleasant vineyard can be laid waste (Isa 5:5, 6) and the planted vine uprooted and burned (Ezek 19:10–14; Psa 80:12–16).

The Old Testament is full of the realization of these dread prospects. A generation perishes in the wilderness, disaster fills the land of promise, destruction comes upon the city of God, and God’s people are swallowed up in captivity among the nations. As the book of Deuteronomy predicts, the blessing and the curse are not only possibilities; they will be realized (Deut 30:1).

Is God’s choosing then in vain? Do his purposes come to nothing? This problem arises in the crisis of judgment; it becomes overwhelming in view of the exile. The emphasis of the Old Testament on the freedom and sovereignty of God seems to intensify the difficulty. Since God is free to choose, he is free to reject also. The potter who made a vessel is free to smash it (Isa 30:14). None can stay his hand or question his authority (Isa 29:16; 45:9; 64:8).

But what then of God’s word of promise, spoken to his people? Will it return void? Is God’s good pleasure to be frustrated? The two related answers to these questions which appear in the Old Testament are summarized by Paul in Rom 9–11. Distinctions are made in two areas: first, between the true and false people of God; second, between the present and future people of God. The first is the motif of the remnant, the second of the renewal. God’s election of his people does not fail, for its operation is effective among the true people of God. “They are not all Israel that are of Israel.” Election does not fail, either, for its full realization is final: “all Israel will be saved.”

These distinctions acknowledge the sovereignty of God’s choosing and differentiate between an outward calling, which may be made void, and effective calling of God’s creative word, which creates what it names (Isa 46:10f; 55:11; Jer 33:2). God’s word may tarry, but it is sure. At last it must perform what the Lord has spoken.

The doctrine of the remnant presents first of all a surviving remnant. A remnant in this sense is described in Amos 3:12; 4:11; Isa 1:9. The surviving remnant, however, is also a purified remnant, a righteous remnant. Through chastening, those who remain confess their iniquities and return to the Lord (Lev 26:40; Hos 5:15–6:3; Jer 3:12, 14). The preexilic prophets stressed the smallness of the remnant: one burning coal plucked from the conflagration (Amos 4:11); a pole on the hilltop (Isa 30:17); two legs or a piece of an ear from the mouth of a lion (Amos 4:12); the stump of a felled tree (Isa 6:13); the gleanings of the field or a few olives left at the top of the tree (Isa 17:6). Yet, in spite of the smallness of the remnant, there will be restoration. The scattered remnant will be regathered (Ezek 11:17). Their recovery will be like the resurrection of a valley of dry bones (Ezek 37:12). God will give them his spirit, hearts of flesh for hearts of stone (Ezek 11:19; 36:26, 27), and make his covenant with them. The good grain will not fall to the ground (Amos 9:9). Those written in the Book of Life will remain, quickened from the grave (Isa. 4:3). All things will be restored for the remnant people, and the Lord will be their crown of glory (Isa 28:5).

These great promises are repeated to the feeble remnant that does return from captivity. They are declared to be the heirs of the blessing upon the remnant (Zech 8:11–15). Yet the postexilic prophets show that the fullness of the restoration remains in the future. The glory of God’s promises far exceeds the immediate realization on the return from the exile, and the rebuilding of the temple and the walls of Jerusalem.

This is true because in the prophetic teaching concerning the remnant both the spiritualizing and the universalizing aspects have been intensified. To the question “Has God cast off his elect people?” the first answer was “No, for he preserves a remnant.” The second was, “No, for there is a renewal to come.” The first answer carries into the second, and both answers are intensified in the idea of the remnant. The thought of a preserved remnant leads to a more individual and spiritual emphasis. Like the communities gathered about the prophets in days of apostasy, the remnant will appear as band of disciples maintaining the truth of God (Isa 8:16–18).

But the remnant is individualized in a much more significant way in the Messianic promises. The servant songs of Isa 42–53 address the remnant as God’s servant: “But thou, Israel, my servant, Jacob whom I have chosen, the seed of Abraham my friend, thou whom I have taken hold of from the ends of the earth, and called from the corners thereof, and said unto thee, thou art my servant, I have chosen thee and not cast thee away…” (Isa. 41:8–9; cf. 42:18–43:13; 44:1–5).

Against this background of the remnant as God’s servant, two individual figures are shown: Cyrus, the Gentile king, declared to be anointed as the Lord’s servant for bringing back God’s people; and the mysterious individual servant who is distinguished from the people as sharply as Cyrus is (cf. Isa 49:5, 6 with 45:4). One servant, above the remnant, above the anointed Gentile, Cyrus, will be used to redeem and restore the people of God. As the elect servant-son, called from the womb (Isa 49:1, 5), named by Jehovah (49:1), and kept in his hand (49:2), he will realize all the promises of God.

In the individual servant the narrowing down of the remnant reaches its end at last. There is One who is the elect, called, Beloved Son.

This individualizing focus in the remnant-servant has a surprising reverse movement bound up in it. The purified remnant are not only possessed of God; they are also used. Or, to put it another way, in the remnant God possesses all his people. Through the final remnant, and to the final remnant, even the Gentiles are gathered in. As Manson has observed, “the brand plucked from the burning is to become a light to lighten the Gentiles.”

God’s free election of the remnant and his deliverance of them is described as creating astonishment among the nations (Ezek 36:20–25; Micah 7:15–20; Jer 33:9; Psa 40:3). They come to desire the blessings now manifest (Zech 8:22, 23). Not only do they come in in order to worship at Zion (Isa 2:2–4; 60:3; 56:3–8; Zech 14:16; Zeph 3:9–10), bringing their treasure and gifts (Isa 60:5; 61:6), but they even bring with them the scattered remnant of Israel (Isa 49:22; 60:4). Thus there is a remnant of the nations (Isa 45:20; Jer 48:47; Zech 9:7), joined with the remnant of Israel (Isa 19:24–25; 66:18–23). The same sovereign election which preserves a remnant in Israel calls from the Gentiles a people for God’s name. The preserved remnant becomes the restored people of God, the “many” gathered by the final suffering of the Lord’s servant, the fullness of him that filleth all in all. Preservation has become renewal. Christ speaks to his disciples as the remnant in the election of grace: “fear not, little flock, for it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32).

The remnant doctrine implies discrimination. With election there is rejection. The kingdom is taken away from those who kill the Son and given to others. Many are called but few chosen (Matt 22:14). Even Judas goes to his own place, as it is written of him (Acts 1:16, 25). Peter sets against the “elect race” the disobedient who stumble over God’s chosen stone, “whereunto they were also appointed” (1 Pet 2:8, 9).

With the appearance of the Great Shepherd of the sheep, those who are his own are made manifest. They hear his voice and follow him (John 10:3–5), and he pronounces upon them the blessing of peace (John 14:27). Election is made evident in faith. Because the gospel operated among them in power, the Thessalonians know their election (1 Thess 1:4). God’s choosing operates effectually in “sanctification of the spirit and belief of the truth” (2 Thess 2:13, 14).

This specification of election, which views the church as the company of the elect (1 Pet 1:1), expresses the inheritance and calling of the saints. Should a member of the church deny Christ, however, he would show that he was not among the number of the elect. The Apostle Paul counts not himself to have apprehended, though he does not doubt that Christ has apprehended him (Phil 3:12, 13), and Peter urges the elect to make their calling and election sure by perseverance in the life of faith (2 Pet 1:10). God’s choosing of his own is fixed, nonetheless, and if Hymenaeus and Philetus apostatize, “the firm foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, the Lord knoweth them that are his…” (2 Tim 2:19).

Election does not set the individual against the corporate whole in the doctrine of the church. The remnant is the elect nation, the assembly of the saints, the fullness of the new humanity in Christ. Individual sonship is not in contrast to the family of God. It might be noted that Karl Barth makes an untenable distinction when he holds that for Israel there was rejection as well as election but that in the church there cannot be elect and non-elect individuals.[38] Barth correctly emphasizes the reference of election to an elect people, the company of the saints. But the principle which operated in the Old Testament operates also in the New: not all are Israel which are of Israel. The application of the term “elect” to the people of God does not furnish the definition of election but of the people. A process of proving at once begins. There are those who go out “from us…that they may be manifest that they are not all of us” (1 John 2:19). Therefore warnings about the rejection of Israel are appropriate to the church (e. g., 1 Cor 10:1–12).

The description of the people of God in the Bible is as far from the contemporary descriptions of the “New Theology” as heaven is high above the earth. The central concepts of God’s action, his election of a treasure people, are lost from view in the contemporary consensus. God’s calling of his people to himself cannot be subordinated to tile mission to the world, for God’s ultimate plan is the renewal of the world through the new humanity that is chosen in Christ. We cannot escape the dreadful mystery of God’s sovereignty by which he has chosen to redeem a remnant in Christ; but if we are to understand God’s mission in the world, we must receive his revelation of it.

B. The Kingdom and Body of Christ

The Old Testament revelation of the people of God points forward to the renewal of that people with the coming of the Messiah. The history of the covenant in the Old Testament issues in the eschatology of the covenant people. Israel’s history was a history of failure. The distinctiveness and mission which were the requirement of the covenant were abandoned and rejected. The basic covenantal principle was that there should be a people of God’s own possession among whom God dwelt as Lord, a holy nation, “a people that dwelleth alone, and shall not be reckoned among the nations” (Num 23:9). God’s covenant law required religious distinctiveness (the first table of the law): Israel must worship the true God exclusively (the first commandment), and spiritually (the second commandment). The law also required ethical distinctiveness (the second table of the law). The separation of Israel to the holy God was the ground for ceremonial separation, the principle of cleanness. It was also expressed in geographical separation centered around the place which God had chosen and where he put his name (Deut 11:31; 12:5).

As we have seen, the distinctiveness of Israel as a covenant people marked God’s calling of Israel to himself but also had its purpose in covenant service, the service of sons. Israel must worship God directly, but Israel was also called to exalt the name of the Lord among the nations so that all the earth might see the salvation of God.

Yet Israel after the flesh failed completely in maintaining the covenant distinctiveness and in rendering covenant service. The failure was both repeated and progressive. From the murmuring in the wilderness to the climactic apostasy in the land, the history of Israel was a history of repeated and increasing failure. Israel forsook the covenant, stoned the prophets, and delivered up the Son of God to the cross.

The sin of Israel was judged increasingly, and in the prophets this judgment is carried to an apocalyptic climax. The curses recited on Mount Ebal as the sanctions of the covenant will indeed be poured out. Israel will be driven from the land. Having served the heathen gods in the Lord’s land the apostate people will be made to serve the heathen gods in their lands (Deut 4:28). The infliction of this judgment employs the heathen nations as instruments. The temple of God is defiled and destroyed. The totality of this judgment is declared by Christ: “The kingdom of God shall be taken away from you, and shall be given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof” (Matt 21:43).

God’s judgment will not stop with Israel. The heathen, in destroying Israel, do not act in submission to God, but in blasphemous pride. They, too, must be judged (Isa 10:5–19; Jer 25:29; Obad 15).

But God’s purposes do not end in the obliteration of his people and his promises in the wrath of judgment. Instead of the dreadful renunciation of the covenant: “Call his name Lo-ammi; for ye are not my people, and I will not be your God” (Hos 1:9); there shall be heard the covenant blessing: “Ye are the sons of the living God” (Hos 1:10). After the blessing and the curse have been poured out (Deut 30:1), God will restore his people from captivity and circumcise their hearts (Deut 30:6). The glorious triumph of God’s grace will be realized in the latter days. In the ceremonial law the ultimate restoration of all things is symbolized by the year of Jubilee, the crown of the sabbatical system (Lev 25).

Israel’s judgment brought blessing to the nations, for example in the ministry of Elijah and Elisha. But if Israel’s judgment brought blessing, much more must the blessing of Israel be shared by the nations. The glory of God’s blessing is that a new Israel is to be raised up under the seal of a new covenant of peace (Isa 54:8; 41:8), an everlasting covenant (Ezek 16:60). The new Israel is raised up not only from the death of captivity but from the death of sin (Ezek 37:14). The new covenant is spiritual, bringing the covenant principle to final realization (Jer 31:31–37; Ezek 36:24–28). Through the rich outpouring of the Holy Spirit, all the blessings of the covenant are sealed in the name of God (Isa 44:1–5) and through the Word of God (Isa 59:21).

Often the fullness of the promised blessing is expressed in terms of restorative completeness: the temple will be re-established (Isa 2:2–4; Ezek 40:2), sacrifices will again be offered (Isa 56:7; Jer 33:18; 17:26; 31:14; Ezek 43), the priests and Levites will be restored (Ezek 44:9–31), the mediatorial position of Israel among the nations will be re-established (Mic 4:1–3; Isa 66:23; 45:14; Zech 14:16–19). However, the very fullness of the blessing transcends the form of the covenant which is restored, so that the realities which are symbolized in ceremonial types are actualized. That which is restored is the covenant relation in its religious heart. Therefore the restoration is more than restoration; it is renewal. The old covenant in its final restoration becomes a new covenant.

Thus it is not only a reunited remnant of both Israel and Judah that is redeemed (Hos 1:11; 3:5; Isa 11:13; Ezek 37:15–22). The Gentiles are also included (Isa 2:2–4; Mic 4:1–3). The outcasts of other nations are brought in with Israel’s captivity (Isa 56:6–8), and their sacrifices will be acceptable on God’s altar (Zech 14:16–19). So unthinkably great will be God’s sanctifying blessing that God will be worshiped by sacrifice at an altar in Egypt, and, Assyrians will pilgrimage there to worship, as well as Egyptians to Assyria, so that Israel’s position as the covenant people will be shared by Egypt and Assyria, the former enemies (Isa 19:19–25)! As otherwise expressed, the heathen will be born in Zion and inscribed on the rolls of Zion’s citizens (Psa 87). The barrier between Jew and Gentile is broken down because God in mercy calls those his people who were not his people; both the Jews and the Gentiles are shut up in sin as no people in order that God might have mercy upon both. For this reason even where Hosea has been speaking of Israel and Judah (Hos 1:11) when he enunciates this principle (Hos 2:23), Paul rightly finds a reference to the Gentiles (Rom 9:25, 26; see also Zech 2:11; Psa 47:9; Zeph 3:9; Isa 25:6–8; Isa 9:11, 12).

The outward symbols of the old covenant are so intensified with the fullness of the glory of the new covenant that they are transfigured and transformed. The symbol of both the city and the temple is heightened to an apocalyptic degree (Zech 14:20; Jer 31:38f). Ezekiel’s vision of the new temple includes a new land. So glorious will be the dwelling of God with all the remnant of the redeemed that the ark of the covenant will not be missed (Jer 3:16, 17)! In the eschatological newness of the worship of “that day,” the ceremonial is sublimated in absolute glory. It is not a restoration of Solomon’s temple but of the Garden of Eden where the river of life flows beside trees whose leaves are for the healing of the nations. The new Israel is a new humidity; the restoration of the covenant brings a new heaven and earth (Isa 65:17; 66:22). Peace will prevail (Hos 2:18; Isa 9:4–7; Mic 4:3, 4). The animals are included (Isa 11:6–9; 35:9); heavenly bodies have their light increased (Isa 30:26); there is no longer day and night (Isa 60:20), for the sun and moon are replaced by God’s glory.

Such eschatological blessing could not be given without the renewed manifestation of God’s own covenant presence. God’s presence with his people is the heart of the covenant, and any covenant renewal must be brought about through a new manifestation of his presence.

The Lord appears, amidst the rejoicing of his creation, to set up his kingdom on earth (Psa 46:5–10; 98:7–9). In a second exodus, he leads forth his sheep as their Redeemer-Shepherd-King (Isa 10:26; 35:1–10; 40:3, 10, 30; 52:12; Ezek 34:11–16). God comes to dwell himself on Zion, and this is the source of the glory (Isa 60:20) as he rules over all nations (Zech 14:16), fills the new temple with his glory (Ezek 43:2, 7), shines as the light over the city of God (Ezek 5:5), and is as a fiery wall about it (Zech 2:9).

The mount of the temple will rise above all mountains and hills (Isa 2:2). God’s truth will appear as a light to the nations (Isa 51:4; 60:3). God calls the nations (Psa 50:1; Isa 45:20–22) and spreads a feast for them in his holy mountain (Isa 25:6–8).

The coming of God promised in the prophets is identified with the coming of the Messiah. In Isa 40 it is God himself who comes as the Shepherd of his people; in Isa 42 it is the Servant of the Lord who, in God’s spirit, sets justice in the earth. In Ezek 34:11 God himself is Shepherd; in verse 23 “My servant David” is the Shepherd. The messianic Davidic king of Psa 45, 2, 110, and 72 exercises a divine rule. The root of Jesse stands as an ensign to the peoples and his resting place shall be glory (Isa 11:10). The assembly of the Lord restores the preserved of Israel and is a light to the Gentiles (Isa 32:6; 49:6). It is the Messiah who exercises God’s rule over all the nations (Zech 9:10; Dan 7:14; Isa. 9:4–7; 11:1–6).

Yet the Messiah who comes to manifest God’s lordship also comes to fulfill Israel’s sonship. The Messiah is the seed of the promise. He is the seed of David (Psa 89:35, 36) and of Israel, the seed of Abraham (Gen 13:15; 17:8; Gal 3:16) and of the woman (Gen 3:15). He is the true Israel (Isa 49:3–7), the Son of God (Psa 2:7), and the Servant of God (Isa 52:13), the true man—the second Adam.

Christ therefore fulfills the role of Israel. He manifests the true distinctiveness of the holy Son of God (Isa 11:3–5). In him the covenant principle is realized: God with us—Immanuel! (Isa 7:14). He is anointed with the Holy Spirit without measure (Isa 11:2, 61:1–3), as the Prophet (Deut 18:15), Priest (Psa 110:4), and King (Psa 2; Isa 9:6, 7), the mediating Representative of all the people of God. He not only actively fulfills the role of the Son of the covenant but as the righteous Sufferer he also endures and makes atonement for the sins of the many (Isa 53; Psa 22; 69). He suffers as the righteous King, Prophet, and Priest.

The Old Testament promises are realized in the advent of the Messiah and the gathering of Messiah’s people, the true Israel of God. Christ comes as Immanuel, the Lord of the covenant and the Son of the covenant. He thus completes both the promised work of God and the required response of his people. As true God he is the Lord who has come; as true man, he is the head of the covenant, the new and true Adam, Israel, Moses, and David. All promises are complete in him (2 Cor 1:20), for in him dwells the fullness of the godhead in bodily form (Col 2:9). He is the Amen (Rev 3:14), the Alpha and the Omega (Rev 22:13).

The New Testament presents Christ as the Lord of the covenant. It is impossible here even to outline the richness of the New Testament witness on this point. Christ is revealed in the miracle of the incarnation as the Savior Lord (Luke 2:11) who shall save his people from their sins (Matt 1:21). His authority in redemption is shown in his mighty words and deeds. In the synagogue of Nazareth he proclaims the fulfillment of the prophetic year of Jubilee. His miracles reveal not only the cleansing power of the kingdom but his own lordship as the one having authority over sickness, death, and Satan. He is the king of the wind and the waves; his authority is seen in his public actions: the cleansing of the temple at the beginning of his ministry and again at its close; the triumphal entry; his adjuration before Jewish and Gentile courts. To his disciples Jesus revealed his lordship in word and deed. His authority was sealed in the triumph of his death and resurrection and in his exaltation to God’s right hand. Christ’s glory will again be manifest in his coming as king and judge.

The Christ who is thus revealed as Lord acted as Lord to assemble to himself his people. He chose disciples, calling them to “follow me.” This choosing created a division among men. It began a “gathering” and “scattering.” The disciples themselves were called to share in the gathering process as laborers in the harvest field and as fishers of men. He chose twelve disciples with evident reference to the twelve tribes of Israel. As he was rejected by an unbelieving Israel, he declared the rejection of those who refused to be gathered to him. The parable of the vineyard provides a stern warning: “The kingdom of God shall be taken away from you, and shall be given to a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof” (Matt 21:43). The stone rejected of the builders is the cornerstone of the new temple and the stone of the kingdom. Only those who receive Christ are the true flock receiving the kingdom (Luke 12:32; Mark 14:27).

Christ then proceeded to constitute the new Israel. The confession which he elicited from Simon Peter was distinctive and apostolic. Peter confessed the work of Jesus as Messiah in spite of Christ’s refusal to fill a political role. Further, in contrast to the unbelief of the multitudes, Peter also confessed Christ’s deity as the Son of the living God. This confession was supernatural in origin. Only the Father can so reveal the Son. Upon this confessing apostle the church was to be built. The foundation of the church is not Peter’s confession in the abstract apart from the confessing Peter; the church is built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets (Eph 2:20; Rev 21:14). But neither is Peter the foundation apart from his confession, for in relation to a far different utterance that followed he is called Satan (Matt 16:23). Nor is Peter to be separated from the eleven, for the power of the keys which is addressed to Peter in Matt 16:19 is addressed to all the apostles in Matt 18:18. It is only Peter as confessing, in his distinctive apostolic work, who is the rock. Peter is the rock in terms of a figure in which Christ is seen as the builder.

The new assembly of the people of God is built by Christ confessed as the Messiah. Christ will perform this work through his death and resurrection and in the sovereignty of his rule at the Father’s right hand. This work is God’s great work of the latter days (Amos 9:11; cf. Acts 15:16–18; Zech 6:12). The church is Christ’s; God’s people are the Messiah’s people, for the Messiah is God the Son, the Lord. The church shares Christ’s resurrection victory; the gates of death cannot prevail against the people of the Lord of life.

Further, Christ orders his kingdom in his Messianic authority. The keys of the kingdom are his to give. The church is organized by Christ as the company of his disciples. Where two or three are gathered together in his name there Christ is present. Binding and loosing through the ministration of his word has heavenly validity, for the authority is his. There is an instituted government of the church to which an offended “little one” of the flock may appeal (Matt 18:17). This government may pronounce spiritual censure, but is not given the power of the sword (John 18:36). Its declaratory authority is ministerial but real (Luke 9:5; 10:5–16; Matt 10:12–15, 40; John 20:21–23; Acts 13:51). Along with his Word, Christ has given the sacraments of baptism and the Lord’s supper, signifying and sealing the blessings of the new covenant (Matt 28:19; 26:26–29). Christ exercises his lordship in the church through his Word and Spirit. The sovereignty of Christ is divine and absolute. The choosing, calling, charging, and cherishing of the people of God ascribed to the Lord of the covenant in the Old Testament is ascribed to Christ the Lord in the New Testament. The revealed word of Christ is the law of the church. His revelation is climactic and final (Heb 1:1). Not even an angel from heaven can alter it (Gal 1). His Word, the “all things” which he commanded (Matt 28:20), is confirmed to the church by those that heard (Heb 2:3, 4); the Spirit bringing all things to their remembrance (John 14:26) and revealing the fullness of truth in him (John 16:13, 14) so that the apostolic witness is complete (1 Cor 14:37; cf. Rev 22:18, 19). The “outline of sound words” is committed by the apostles to faithful men who shall be able to teach others also (1 Tim 6:20; 2 Tim 1:13, 14; 2:2). The Old Testament no less than the New witnesses to Christ (Luke 24:27, 45–47), for the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy (Rev 19:10).

The Spirit of Christ is the life of the church. Through his Spirit sent from heaven Christ inspires the written Word and by that same Spirit he illumines men’s minds to understand and proclaim the Word. In the Spirit Christ is present with his church and through the Spirit the offices instituted by Christ in his Word are equipped and called (Eph 4:7–12; 1 Cor 12:28; Rom 12:7, 8). By the Spirit union with Christ is effected, and by that union Christians are also united to one another and know the freedom of the Spirit.

In the church the kingdom of Christ is a present reality. The people of the Lord are the kingdom of God and of the Son of his love (Col 1:13). The kingdom title of the Old Testament is pronounced upon the church: “and he made us a kingdom, priests to God and his Father” (Rev 1:6). In this sense kingdom is synonymous with “people,” “nation,” “house,” or “temple” as the realm of God’s saving Lordship. Those who are formed together into the holy temple are fellow citizens with the saints; they are the household, the inheritance of God, the heavenly commonwealth of the new Israel (Eph 1:11; 2:12, 19, 21; Phil 1:27; 3:20; Heb 11:14–16; 13:14).

Yet the Bible rarely uses the word “kingdom” in this sense of “realm.” More often it means “dominion.” Even when it denotes a sphere, a “domain,” the sphere is one of active power. The kingdom, therefore, is sought, given, possessed, received. Further, the full manifestation of Christ’s power awaits his coming in glory. Because of this future reference, the people of God are said to inherit the kingdom rather than to compose it (Matt 25:34).

Since “kingdom” is used in an active sense, there is a simple clue to its rich variety: to understand the kingdom consider the King. God’s universal sovereignty marks the scope of his kingdom; his final judgment will establish its triumph. But God is the King of salvation who manifests his kingly power to redeem his people. Therefore the prophets promise the kingdom to come. John the Baptist could not understand how Jesus could work the signs of kingdom blessing without first using the axe of kingdom judgment.

Jesus came to bear the judgment, not to inflict it. Therefore the kingdom comes in two stages. With the Lord came lordship; with the King came “kingdominion.” In Christ the temporary and typical are surpassed and the glory of the heavenly kingdom is present. The church he builds is the final form of the people of God, the gathering of the last days in which the kingdom is actualized. Christ does baptize with fire and build with the Spirit. Christ is heir of all the promises; the kingdom realization he brings is the concrete fulfillment of the Word of God.

Yet Christ the King must first suffer and then enter into his glory. By refusing to summon legions of angels as well as by coming on the clouds with the holy angels, Christ reveals the power of his kingdom. God’s kingdom of salvation cannot be revealed by force alone, for then it would be known only in wrath and judgment. The power of God to salvation is revealed on the cross. In Christ’s death the righteousness of God triumphs through bearing the curse.

The program of Christ’s own ministry determines the program he has appointed for the ministry of the church. The church now shares the sufferings of Christ’s kingdom and will share the glory of his kingdom.

Christ himself has entered into his glory. He has ascended into heaven, received all authority in heaven and in earth, and does now smite his enemies with the breath of his lips (Rev 1:16; 2:12, 13; Acts 12:23; 13:11). His rule over his church includes physical chastisement as well as deliverances from danger and death (Rev 2:23; Acts 5:1–11; 1 Cor 11:30; Acts 12:7). Yet Christ’s judgments accomplish the purposes of his kingdom in this time of his longsuffering restraint. They are not total judgments; the great day of the wrath of the Lamb (Rev 6:7) has not yet come. Christ’s judgments summon men to repentance, and they discipline and defend the church.

When the Son of Man is revealed in the glory of his parousia, then the apostles will sit on twelve thrones (Matt 19:28) and the least of the saints will judge angels (1 Cor 6:3). Until then the sword of judgment is not given to the church. Christ’s servants may not fight to establish his kingdom, for it will not be brought in by human power. It is not like the political states, the kingdoms of this world. Peter had to put up his sword when his King was seized; no Christian may take the sword again to prepare for the return of the King.

If the power of Christ’s resurrection now carried the church to the throne rather than to the cross, all the world powers could not overcome a single Christian soldier. But Christ does not call his church to battle before he comes to judge. This is not so much a limitation of the church as a sign of its glory. The Old Testament people of God were charged with stoning the blasphemers and exterminating the Canaanites. Such theocratic actions were typical of the final judgment, but they were not part of the consummation victory. It is because the church has an eschatological form that it no longer executes typical judgments. It must wait in hope for that new order for which it is formed. Precisely because the church brings the kingdom to realization it must suffer now, not seek to implement Christ’s coming judgment.

Further, the state, which is ordained of God and which wields the sword as a minister of God (Rom 13:1–7), is not the realization of the kingdom. God’s rule over the nations is given to the ascended Christ, but this providential rule must still be distinguished from the saving rule of God over his people. Christ’s authority over the “powers that be,” whether over the defeated demonic hosts or over earthly kings and kingdoms, is exercised on behalf of the people of God and for the coming of the kingdom of glory. But this sovereignty is not the direct exercise of his saving rule. The people of God may not use a sword in the name of the kingdom which is denied to them as a church.

Disciples may claim the protection of magistrates, and indeed carry swords for defense (Luke 22:35–38); but at the risk of denying the nature of the kingdom they may not use the sword in an effort to bring it in.

It is clear, then, that the terms “church” and “kingdom” must be kept distinct. “Kingdom” describes salvation from the God-ward side; to adopt it for institutional use is to risk thinking that salvation is of the church rather than of the Lord.

Further, it is clear that the stages of the kingdom, marked by Christ’s work, must not be confused. It is quite evident, for example, that a patient waiting for Christ’s consummation judgment will be condemned by a man who does not believe in the Second Coming of Christ.

Again, because the kingdom is the Lord’s, his present rule of power is not committed to the church, nor to the state. Christ now exercises universal dominion; but this dominion is his own immediate sovereignty directed to the purpose for which he delays his return, namely the ingathering of his people. Christ does not now execute full judgment either upon or through the governments of this world. He commissions no servant, king, or apostle to fight in his name, for his kingdom.

Finally, the church alone is constituted by Christ to be an embodiment of the kingdom where his rule is confessed and his presence acknowledged. The state or other social organizations may manifest the kingdom in the sense that Christ’s control over them is exhibited, or in the sense that these organizations may reflect the life of the church; but no organization other than the church may be identified as Christ’s kingdom.

The Lord of the covenant assembles and rules his people. He also exercises universal Lordship on behalf of his church. Jesus Christ, seated at the right hand of his Father, is Lord of the universe as well as of the church. The Prince and Savior, who gives repentance to his people, has all authority in heaven and earth (Matt 28:18; Acts 5:31). The one Lord has one victory. His triumph is over Satan and the powers of darkness; his exaltation is by and to the right hand of God, the universal King. There can be no exception to the subjection of all things to him, no unsubdued power. Only God himself is expected, who put all things under the feet of the God-man (1 Cor 15:27; Eph 1:21).

Yet this absolute authority of Christ, sealed at his ascension, is exercised in an invisible rule of grace before it is manifested in a visible parousia of glory. We do not yet see all things made subject to him (Heb 2:8), even though all power is given to him in heaven and earth.

Both the universal, absolute character of Christ’s rule and its present hidden form are required by the purpose of his Messianic dominion. This purpose is the total realization and consummation of the kingdom of God. His power must be total, for he must rule until he has removed the curse from creation, a work which requires the re-creation of heaven and earth (1 Cor 15:25, 26; Rom 8:20, 21, 38, 39).

Christ’s total power, however, must be wielded over history before it is manifested in final judgment. The building of the church requires the delay of the parousia while the Gentiles are gathered in. “All things are ready,” but the feast cannot begin until the King’s house is full (Luke 14:17, 23).

The Great Commission founds the sending of the church upon the universal dominion of Christ: “All authority hath been given unto me in heaven and on earth. Go ye therefore…” (Matt 28:18f). It is clear that Christ’s Lordship over the universe is an indispensable condition for the ingathering of the church. Christ’s power is not merely an auxiliary support. Christ is more than a heavenly Constantine or Charlemagne, ready to lend imperial support and protection to missionaries. Rather, the rule of Christ opens the door to the nations. The bondage of the peoples under the powers of darkness has been broken, and for this reason mission is possible. The Son is seated on the throne until the fullness of the peoples is given him of the Father (Psa 110; 2; 72:11). The image of the miraculous catch of fish symbolizes the great ingathering under the sovereignty of the Lord of wind and wave (Luke 5:10). Christ has overcome the power of the curse: no serpent can hurt his ambassadors, the very demons must be subject to them in his name (Luke 10:19). That same sovereignty, keeps the sheep of the flock: no one can snatch them from the hand of the Good Shepherd, for none can move the hand of the Father at whose right hand the Son sits (John 10:27–29). Because the rule of Christ is world-wide, his apostles may make disciples of all nations. The mission of the church to the ends of the earth and the end of the age is within the sphere of Christ’s rule of the earth and the age.

Another question must be asked. If Christ’s Lordship is universal, is it enough to say that his universal power is exercised on behalf of the church? Must we not rather say that Christ rules the church for the sake of the world? We have seen that contemporary theology stresses the servant role of the church in a world that is redeemed; Christ is Lord of the church only because he is Lord of the world. The church is distinguished only by its recognition of Christ’s Lordship.

This contemporary universalism must circumvent the biblical teaching of the exercise of Christ’s Lordship in judgment. All things will be subjected to Christ, including the new heavens and the new earth. But his authority over the nations will culminate in the last judgment (Matt 25:31–46; 2 Thess 1:7–10; 2 Pet 3:8–13). The judgment of the Messianic Son according to the Bible is not dialectical but teleological (Psa 2; 110). The judgment of the wicked is part of the deliverance of the people of God. The coming of Christ in judgment continues to be the hope of the persecuted church (Rev 6:10; 19:2; 2 Thess 1:5–10). The resurrection of Christ is a call to repentance, for God has “appointed a day in which he will judge the world in righteousness by the man whom he hath ordained; whereof he hath given assurance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead” (Acts 17:31).

The ultimate issues of this judgment are never left in doubt in the Bible. To share the abominations of the nations is to expose oneself to the wrath to come upon the nations (Rev 18:4, 5; 1 Pet 4:3–5; Col 3:5–11). All men are children of wrath (Eph 2:3), and “he that obeyeth not the Son shall not see life, but the wrath of God abideth on him” (John 3:36).

The fullness of a new mankind will be restored in Christ (Rom 11:12, 25), but the fullness is not the totality. The principle of the remnant continues to operate.

The consummation awaits the completion of the church as the “fullness,” the gathering and the manifesting of the sons of God (Rom 8:19; Col 3:4). Christ’s reigning authority over all powers assures the men called according to his purpose that no power in creation can separate them from his love (Rom 8:28, 35–39). With Christ’s victory all things are given to his people (Rom 8:32). “All things are yours” (1 Cor 3:21). The world, the powers, the ages, all are given to the church, even as the church is Christ’s and Christ is God’s. The church is for the world in the sense that it has a mission to the world, but that mission makes it a savor of life unto life and death unto death. The church is not subordinated to the world in the purpose of God. Rather the world is given to the church. The church now shares Christ’s suffering in the world. When he appears, the church will share his work of judging the nations. The church will constitute the new humanity and will receive the dominion of man, restored in the image of God, over a renewed universe.

One aspect of the present rule of Christ is his subjugation of the principalities and powers. This also has been viewed as a redemptive universalism. On the basis of Col 1:20 it has been urged that Christ has reconciled all the cosmic powers as well as all men.[39] But Paul knows of holy angels who do not need such reconciliation, the angels of power with whom Christ will appear from heaven to judge men (2 Thess 1:7). On the other hand, the evil principalities and powers are defeated and exposed by the cross of Christ rather than redeemed by it (Col 2:15). These evil principalities are to be identified with “the power of darkness” (Col 1:13) from which the saints are translated into the kingdom of the Son.[40] Satan may be transformed into an angel of light (2 Cor 11:14), but neither he nor his hosts are converted by such tactics.

Paul’s references to the “principalities and powers” are not explicit descriptions but assume a general understanding concerning them.[41] Included in this assumed viewpoint is a distinction between the elect angels associated with the throne of God (1 Tim 5:21) and the evil beings serving the prince of the power of the air (Eph 2:2). The Qumran literature offers evidence of the vigor with which this distinction was made in Essenic Judaism.[42]

We must not therefore assume that “the principalities and powers in the heavenly places” to whom the wisdom of God is revealed through the church are evil (Eph 3:10). The holy angels are to the fore in Eph 1:21, where Christ is described as seated at God’s right hand in the heavenly places above all principalities and powers. In Eph 6:12 it is surely not the phrase “in the heavenly places” which indicates the evil nature of the principalities, but the terms “darkness” and “wickedness.”

Christ’s victory, against the background of Psa 110 in its New Testament interpretation, is either through subjugation or through salvation. His total Lordship, when asserted in its widest scope, includes both of these forms of victory. Phil 2:9–10 should be understood in this way, against the background of Isa 45.

In view of the distinction between the “powers” of light and darkness we ought not to press the universal language of Col 1:20. The “all things” which are reconciled would appear to include created things as well as persons: the “all things” in heaven include the “thrones, dominions, principalities, powers” of verse 16; but these are viewed in the aspect of their grandeur (angels which the Colossians might be tempted to worship). The passage describes the centrality of Christ’s atonement for the eschatological reconciliation. The heavenly powers are brought to God in the renewed fellowship of a redeemed universe. The ascended Christ is the sovereign over the great “fatherdom” (Eph 3:15) in which angels are joined with men. The heavenly angels benefit by the making of peace in a different way from sinners, but the whole new order is one of reconciliations.[43]

So full is the relation of the church to the Lordship of Christ that we might think it exhaustive. But the covenant between God and his people must be restored from both sides. As Lord, God comes in Christ to gather his people. But Christ comes as Servant as well as Lord. He comes to fulfill the covenant from man’s side, to be the true Son and Servant. The Messiah is the head of a redeemed humanity; his headship binds him to the church as the representative and vital head of the covenant.

His representative role and function is grounded in the Old Testament concept of covenant headship. Sin and death entered the world through Adam (Rom 5:12; 1 Cor 15:21f). On the other hand, in Abraham, the servant of the Lord, all the families of the earth are blessed (Gen 12:3; 18:18). In the promises of this covenant, children are chosen and blessed in their fathers (Gen 17:7, 19). The Messianic Servant figure in the Old Testament unites all these aspects of covenant representation. As prophet, priest, and king he is the mediatorial head of the people of God (Deut 18:18; Psa 2:6, 7; 110:2–4). He is the elect Son, Seed, Servant in whom the elect people are chosen (Psa 2:6–12; Isa 42:1; cf. Gal 3:16). He is the Called, in whom they are called and brought to God, and through whom their calling is fulfilled (Isa 42:1; 1 Pet 2:4–8; Eph 1:3). He is the true Israel, the chosen Jeshurun, the Elect and Beloved in whom the redeemed inherit the name of God and of his people (Gen 22:2; Exod 4:22; Deut 33:5; Isa 44:2–5; 42:1; Rom 9:13, 25; Matt 3:17; 17:5; Eph 1:6; cf. Psa 60:5; 127:2; Col 1:13).

The figure of the body of Christ stands against this background of covenantal headship. It expresses the unity of the individual, messianic Servant with “the many” as the servant people. The one new man in Christ is not the “cosmic man” in the pattern of Hellenistic thought, but the “covenant man,” the servant of the Lord.[44] According to Eph 2:11ff, the Gentiles were “separate from Christ, alienated from the commonwealth of Israel, and strangers from the covenants of the promise.” The parallelism is revealing: Christ, commonwealth, covenants. The blood of Christ in which those who were afar off are made nigh (verse 13) is the blood of the new covenant. The new covenant is made in the Messiah, the Servant of the Lord. “Through him we both have our access in one Spirit unto the Father. So then ye are no more strangers and sojourners, but ye are fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God” (verse 19). Jews and Gentiles are reconciled “in one body unto God through the cross.” The expression “in one body” is parallel to the phrases “in his flesh” and “in the blood of Christ.” The body in which our reconciliation is accomplished is the crucified body of Christ. The enmity is slain in him (́ἐν αὐτῷ, en autō), and we both have our access to the Father through him (δι᾿ αὐτου, di' autou). Christ represented the church in his death and resurrection. The union between Christ and his people is grounded in redemptive history.

“In Christ” we secure the blessings that are through Christ (cf. Eph 1:3, 4, 5). Those who are blessed in the heavenly places in Christ are those who were raised together with him (Eph 1:3; cf. 2:6, 7; Col 3:1, 2). Christ enters heaven as the representative head of his people, as the exalted Servant-Son. He receives the inheritance promised in the covenant: the throne promised to the seed of David, the blessing promised to the seed of Abraham, the dominion promised to Adam.

He is the promised Seed and receives the inheritance as the Firstborn (Eph 1:10, 11; Col 1:18). Enthroned at the right hand of the Father, he awaits the day of judgment and consummation victory (Acts. 2:34–36; 1 Cor 15:25; Eph 1:20). What is given him is also given to them who are his. They are adopted as sons through Christ (Eph. 1:5) and have received God’s grace in the beloved Son (Eph 1:6).

To be “in Christ” means first to be represented by Christ in his great work of redemption. Being “in Christ” may therefore be compared to being “in Adam” (Rom 5:12–21; 1 Cor 15:22). The basic category is not one of subjective mystical experience but of objective redemptive history. To be sure, the man in Christ enjoys a religious fellowship with the living Lord, but he enjoys this because he is in Christ as the representative covenant head. He desires to know Christ, but his hope lies in being known by Christ, being “found in him” (Phil 3:9, 10).

Covenant representation offers the key for understanding the body of Christ figure. Since the one physical body of Christ dies and is raised on behalf of the saints, they are united representatively in that body. From this conception a figurative extension is a small step. If the many are all reconciled in Christ’s body, then the unity of their new position may be pictured as a body. They are one in Christ’s body; they are one body in Christ (Rom 12:5); they are a body of Christ (without the article, 1 Cor 12:27); they are the body of Christ (Eph 4:12).

If we understand the grounding of the body figure in Christ’s giving of his own body as covenantal representative, we will escape many misconceptions. We will not identify the church with the resurrection body of Christ. Christ has a literal resurrection body. He is not seeking embodiment. The realism of our access to God is sealed in the representative entrance of Christ’s risen body into glory.

Further, an understanding of covenant representation will clarify our grasp of Christ’s body presented in the Lord’s Supper. The new covenant in Christ’s blood is established representatively, therefore we may not remove the symbolism to assert a magical realism of either substance or action.

Covenantal representation accounts for the parallel development of the Christian and the church in the use of the body figure. On the one hand, Paul’s teaching cannot be explained in categories of mystical or moralistic individualism. The foundation of covenantal representation requires a personal distinction as well as representative status and function. Paul uses “in Christ” and “the body of Christ” to describe this representative relation.

On the other hand, neither can Paul’s figure be explained in categories of institutional or sacramental collectivism. The individual Christian is in Christ; his body is a member of Christ, a temple of the Spirit of Christ; he has put on Christ; the life of Jesus is manifest in his body (2 Cor 4:10). The free use of the body figure with the individual in mind shows the direct relation of Christians to Christ. Paul does not have to proceed from Christ to the church as his body and thence to Christians as members of the church.[45] Christians are members of Christ. Their bodies must be offered in the gratitude of devotion in analogy to the offering of his body for them in atonement. Paul argues for the unity of the collective body as an existing fact which must not be denied in schism. But he also assumes the existing fact of the believer’s portion in Christ. Only one body of Christ is primary, the body of his flesh. It is in representative relation to this body that the individual believer and the group of believers have a part in “the body of Christ.”

Further, covenant representation accounts for much of the variety in the use of the body figure. Because Christ’s own body is central, all that Christ is and does in his body has meaning for the church.

Because Christ’s body was the temple of the Holy Spirit, Christians are temples, and the church is a temple (John 1:14; 2:21; 1 Cor 6:19; 2 Cor 6:16). Christ was “endued” of the Spirit for his work; Christians also, as they put on Christ, are endued with his Spirit (John 1:32–34; Gal 3:26–4:6). Christ’s body was offered for sin; our bodies, and the church as his body, are offered in the thankoffering of grateful praise (Rom 12:1; 15:16). His body was raised from the dead; he is the new Adam, heading the new creation and destined to receive the absolute subjection of all things (1 Cor 15:20–28, 45). Christians are members of Christ, redeemed for new life, and even now the life of Jesus is manifest in their bodies (Rom 8:10ff). The church is one new man in Christ (Gal 3:27), the second Eve, presented as a pure virgin to Christ (2 Cor 11:2, 3), the fullness of him who fills all in all.

The church as the figurative body of Christ does not repeat or continue the incarnational presence of God with man; it is not filled with the Spirit without measure; it is not offered as a sin offering; it is not the new Adam, the heavenly Bridegroom or the reigning Lord. Bold language joins the church with Christ, as his body, in all these respects. Yet the foundation of the figure guards against this deification of the church. The church is the body of Christ only because Christ “bore our sins in his own body on the tree.”

Cerfaux rightly observes that the shift in the conception of the church as the body of Christ between the earlier epistles of Paul and Colossians and Ephesians is based on a shift in the prevailing reference to the physical body of Christ.[46] In the former epistles, it is the crucified body of Christ that is in view; in the latter it is the risen and glorified body. This distinction is by no means absolute, as Eph 2:13ff makes clear; but it is marked.

Understood in this perspective, the image of the church as the body of Christ in Colossians and Ephesians adds richness to the teaching of Paul without overthrowing or replacing the concepts of the Corinthian epistles and Romans. The distinctive imagery of Colossians and Ephesians puts the church in a cosmic setting because Christ is seen in this setting as the triumphant Lord. No doubt the occasion of this emphisis was the false teaching in Asia Minor. Against the speculations which unduly exalted principalities and powers in the heavenly hierarchy, Paul asserts that Christ is over all things now and forever, just as he was before all things and is appointed as heir of all things in the good pleasure of God (Col 1:15–17; Eph 1:10, 20–22).

The theme of covenant representation is not here discarded but elaborated. The triumph of Christ is the culmination of the history of redemption (Eph 1:20–22). Christ’s heavenly rule is the issue of his resurrection and ascension. Christians are made a heritage in Christ (Eph 1:11), they are chosen in him before the foundation of the world (Eph 1:4), and are seated with him in heaven (Eph 1:3). His exaltation is theirs, for he represents them.[47]

The structure of redemptive history brings a double authority of Christ into view. He is the Sovereign of the universe, but in a special sense he is the Lord of the church. This distinction is expressed in Eph 1: Christ’s inheritance in the saints (verse 8) as God’s own possession (verse 14) is different from the “all things” that are in subjection under his feet (verse 22). This picture is familiar from the Old Testament. Messiah rules the nations with a rod of iron and brings deliverance to those who put their trust in him (Psa 2,110). Just as God is King in two senses: as the Sovereign of the nations and the Lord of his covenant people; so the Christ has all authority in heaven and in earth, but brings the redeemed into his own kingdom as the beloved Son (Col 1:13).

Paul uses the word “head” (κεφαλή, kephalē) to describe the supremacy of Christ over all things and all ages (Eph 1:22; Col 2:10). His usage is shaped by the Greek Old Testament, where kephalē is associated with ἀρχή (archē) in translating the Hebrew וֹאשׁ (rōsh). Primacy, origination, honor, authority, and summation are assigned to the “head” in Old Testament usage.[48] Christ is exalted to headship in all these senses. Just as all things were created in him, through him, and unto him (Col 1:16), so all things are “headed up” by him (Eph 1:10). The terms firstborn (πρωτότοκος, prōtotokos) and beginning (archē) describe this primacy rather than merely priority (Col 1:15, 17, 18). This Christ who is the Head of all powers in heaven and earth, every angelic power or Satanic dominion, is also the Head of the church (Col 2:10; 1:18).

It will be observed that the figure of headship is an independent metaphor and does not originate in the body figure.49 Even when the two figures are intimately related, as when Christ is said to be the head of the body the church (Col 1:18), the independent force continues. When Paul writes that man is the head of the woman (1 Cor 11:3), he does not have in view the model of a single body of which the man is the head and the woman is the trunk. Paul goes on to say that Christ is the head of the man and that God is the “head” of Christ. When Paul asserts that the body grows up into the head and is nourished from the head (Eph 4:15, 16), we are not to seek for some physiological model relating the head to the rest of the body. Rather, Christ the head nourishes his body as a man nourishes and cherishes his wife, in a position of authority and primacy.

The head figure therefore does not demand a body figure for its completion. It is mistaken to say that the head is incomplete without the body.

Christ’s headship over all things does not mean that the cosmos is his body. To the contrary, this is precisely the exalted privilege of the church: it is the body of him who is head over all. Indeed Paul writes of Christ’s cosmic headship with a view to assuring the church of its privilege.50 In his exaltation Christ fills all things (Eph 1:23; 4:10). As God fills heaven and earth (Jer 23:24) in the sense that his omnipresent power controls all things, so also the exalted Christ exercises as Messiah divine dominion. The church is also his fullness, for he fills the church with his dominion (Eph 1:23; Col 2:10). As Christ dwells in the church, he fills it with all the fullness of the divine presence and power (Eph 3:18). Yet Christ’s filling of the church is not simply the over-whelming presence of his power. He fills the church with the power of his grace, with the rich gifts which build the church up to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ (Eph 4:13). Because the Christ who is head of the church is the head of the universe, the church dare not fear any other power, even though the evil day comes when the people of God must do battle against the principalities and powers. Because Christ is head of all, the church now expresses the goal of his Lordship. But neither Paul’s figures or his teaching ever pass over into a merging of the church and the powers. This fundamental confusion in contemporary ecclesiology runs counter to the whole teaching of the apostle.

Union with Christ, as it is described in the New Testament, and particularly as expressed in the body figure, is not merely representational or legal, but vital, spiritual, and personal. Christ is not only the representative head but also the vital head of the covenant.

This appears from Paul’s use of the phrase ἐν Χριστῷ (en Christō). As we have seen, this phrase often expresses the representative identification of Christians with Christ. When Paul writes, “There is therefore now no condemnation to them that are in Christ Jesus” (Rom 8:1), this representative relation is clearly in view. This is also the case in many passages which speak of God’s saving action or gift to us in Christ (e.g., Eph 1:3, 6, 11; 2:13, 14; 4:32; Rom 6:23; Gal 3:14; 2 Cor 5:19, 21), and in passages which use the phrase to designate believers, as those who sustain a saving relation to Christ (e. g., Phil 1:14; 3:9; 4:21; Rom 16:7; 1 Cor 1:30).

However, the phrase bears a fuller meaning in other passages. Paul’s first letter begins, “Paul, and Silvanus, and Timothy, unto the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ…” (1 Thess 1:1; cf. 2 Thess 1:1). Unless the phrase conveyed more than representation, the Father could not be joined with Christ as its object. Other passages which show a broader scope describe the life or action of the Christian “in Christ.” Paul declares, “I can do all things in him that strengtheneth me” (Phil 4:13). He charges the Colossians: “As therefore ye received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and builded up in him, and established in your faith, even as ye were taught…” (Col 2:6, 7).

Just as Rom 6:1–11 emphasizes the representative side of our union with Christ, so Rom 8 emphasizes the vital side. The presence of Christ in the believer through the Spirit provides a vital relation which defines what it means to live and walk “in Christ.”

When Paul writes of growing up into Christ the Head through the use of the gifts which Christ provides (Eph 4:12–16), he is stating with vigor a reality of spiritual life “in Christ.”

This vital union with Christ expressed in the phrase en Christō appears also in the body of Christ figure. Paul’s initial use of the metaphor of the many members in the one body (1 Cor 12:12–31; Rom 12:4–8) does not stress the vital union, but it presupposes it. The organic figure and the whole idea of the gifts of the Spirit alike make it clear that every member of the body shares in the new life of Christ (cf. 1 Cor 12:13).

When the body is viewed as a temple, its “indwelling” by God must be understood in terms of intimate personal union (1 Cor 6:19). What is true of the individual is true of the whole people of God. Vital union is again central in the marriage figure. This application of the body metaphor is particularly illuminating, for it portrays a union of Christ with the church in strongly personal terms (Eph 5:23–30).

In Ephesians and Colossians the organic figure is approached differently, and with greater emphasis on the union of life between Christ and the church. In 1 Corinthians the unity of the church in the exercise of spiritual gifts was the urgent problem. In Ephesians and Colossians the position of Christ is the issue. There must be harmonious function in the body; but above all, the link of life with Christ, who is the Head, must be preserved (Col 2:19). The glory of Christ means glory for the church (Eph 1:23), as the power, life, and fullness of Christ is communicated to the church. As we have seen, headship is ascribed to Christ apart from the body figure. On the other hand, the body figure is developed by a greater emphasis on growth. This is related both to the emphasis on edification in these epistles and to their orientation toward the consummation, the summing up of all things in Christ. Those who have been representatively raised with Christ (Col 3:1) have also been united to Christ as their life (Col 3:4). Those who are in Christ must grow up into Christ (Eph 4:15). To gain Christ is not only to be found in him but to know him (Phil 3:9, 10).

Other figures besides that of the body express the vital relation of the church with Christ. Two of these have the closest association with the body figure: the union of the temple with its foundation or cornerstone (Eph 2:20–22; Col 2:7; 1 Pet 2:4, 5; cf. Psa 118:22; Isa 28:16), and the union of the husband with his wife (Rom 7:4; 2 Cor 11:2; Eph 5:31, 32; Rev 19:7; cf. Isa 54:5; Jer 3:20; Hos 2:2–5).51 The union of the vine and its branches (John 15:1–10) offers another illustration, almost identical with that of the body. It is the more striking because the vine is the symbol of Israel (Psa 80:8; Jer 2:21; Isa 5:1–7). Christ is both the realization and the life of the true people of God. When Christians are called sons of God, union with the Son of God is implied. This sonship is realized and sealed by the Spirit of Christ dwelling in believers (Rom 8:9–17). Descriptions of the work of the Holy Spirit assert in direct terms the truth of the rich figures: Christ’s spiritual union with his people (Rom 8:9, 10; Eph 3:16, 17; Col 1:27).

Representative covenant union with Christ determines the status and position of the church; vital union with Christ is the source of the life of the church. Union with Christ is therefore the specific determinant of the whole doctrine of the church.

Let us note some of the consequences for ecclesiology of vital union with Christ in particular.

First, the organic figure of the body is used to relate the individual Christian to the whole church. Neither the individual nor the group is primary in the church, because Christ is primary. The church is his body. Because each member is united to him, is a member of Christ, there is no mediating institution through which the Christian is related to the Savior. The saints are those who have been chosen and called of God. They have been saved through faith. They have believed the word of the cross; their faith stands in the power of God (1 Cor 2:5). Further, each man has his own gift of God, “one after this manner, and another after that” (1 Cor 7:7). Each man must run with patience the race set before him, not counting himself to have laid hold but pressing on toward the goal (Phil 3:13; 1 Cor 9:24). In 1 Cor 10 Paul sets himself against any sacramentalist view of salvation. Those who have been baptized into Christ outwardly and come confidently to the Lord’s table should remember the rejection of Israel in the wilderness. Paul did not emphasize baptism but the preaching of the gospel (1 Cor 1:17). Salvation is an individual experience: “If any man loveth God, the same is known by him” (1 Cor 8:3). “The head of every man is Christ” (1 Cor 11:3). Every Christian is a temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Cor 6:13–20).

On the other hand, just as there is no salvation apart from Christ, so there is no salvation without union in the body of Christ. The sanctified in Christ Jesus at Corinth make up the church of God at Corinth (1 Cor 1:2). Divisions among those who call upon God’s name in any place would imply that Christ could be divided (1 Cor 1:13). The one crucified body of Christ in which the church is representatively included, and the one functioning body composed of “members” of Christ alike require the unity of the church. Human leaders must not be made occasions for division; they are neither Christ nor the church. There is one Christ; apostles and teachers are his servants, called by him and endued with the gifts of his Spirit (1 Cor 3:5). There is one church,—Christ’s; apostles and teachers are given to the church as stewards (1 Cor 3:21–23).

Neither may the variety of gifts of the Spirit become occasions for division. The organic figure of the body shows that diversity need not mean division. Not only do the gifts proceed from one giver, they are also interdependent in their function. A man who was “all ears” could not even hear successfully. The gift of speaking in tongues loses all public significance unless it is complemented by the gift of interpreting, and for its proper regulation it requires others with the gift of rule and of discernment (1 Cor 14:28; 12:10, 28). So far from producing separation, the variety of the gifts of Christ requires unity. The life of Christ is manifested in his body “corporately,” and division destroys this manifestation. Were all the gifts of Christ identical, the very uniformity produced would lessen the requirement of unity. As it is, the mutual sharing of the gifts of Christ is indispensable.

From this there develops a second consideration affecting the nature of the church. If the church as well as the individual is the temple and body of Christ, then communion, fellowship with Christians as well as with Christ, must determine the existence of the church. Christian life, to be in Christ, must be in the church as the body of Christ. To deny to one’s brethren the ministry of the grace given to one is to be an unfaithful steward of the manifold mercies of God (1 Pet 4:10). Even a cup of cold water refused to one of the least of Christ’s brethren is refused to Christ. On the other hand, to refuse the ministry of grace from another, to despise the prophesying of another, is to quench the Spirit (1 Thess 5:17–22).

The growth of the body is therefore a collective process. Again, this is not to set the church above the Christian: individuals do grow in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man; individuals may be edified (1 Cor 14:4). But edification is usually attributed to the church (1 Cor 14:4, 5, 12). The body grows in the image of Christ the Head through the proper functioning of each part (Eph 4:11–16). If a member of the body ceases to function, the health of the whole is affected. As the church is grounded in the truth through the teaching of Christ’s ministers, it grows into unity of faith and knowledge of the Son of God. This edification in faith and love is in unity and unto unity, a unity of life in Christ as members of his body and a unity of function in that body, “till we all attain…unto a fullgrown man.”

So also the sufferings of the church are borne in fellowship with Christ and with Christians. Paul’s apostolic sufferings traced a conformity to Christ’s death in experience to reflect his representative union with Christ’s death (Phil 3:10). Further, Paul suffered on behalf of the church in fellowship with Christ (Col 1:24; cf. 1 Pet 4:13). This fellowship extends to all Christians: “whether one member suffereth, all the members suffer with it” (1 Cor 12:26).

Such mutual concern requires solicitude for the welfare of the other members of Christ’s body. Bearing one another’s burdens in the Spirit includes the gentle restoration of those overtaken in sin (Gal 6:1–2) as well as the exclusion of those who defile the fellowship (Matt 18:8, 17–20; Rom 16:17; 1 Cor 5:12, 13). Each of the figures used for the union of the church with Christ has a negative side to describe the separation of those who are guilty of apostasy in faith or life. The lifeless branches of the vine are cut off and burned (John 15:1, 6); him who defiles the holy temple of God’s dwelling God will destroy (1 Cor 4:17); to the disobedient Christ becomes not the foundation stone but the stone of stumbling and rock of offense (1 Pet 2:8); spiritual adultery Christ will judge, for his bride must be pure and spotless (2 Cor 11:2; cf. 6:15; Rev 21:2; 2:22; 22:15); even members of the body may be cut off (Matt 18:8).

Union with Christ determines the life of the church in κοιυωυία (koinōnia). “Fellowship” is too weak a translation for this word, although it is the best term available to render one aspect of koinōnia.[52] The root koin means “common” and the noun koinōnia designates a having in common. “But the primary idea expressed by koinōnos and its cognates is not that of association with another person or persons, but that of participation in something in which others also participate.”[53] Often the verb koinōnein is used as a synonym for μετέχειυ (metechein), to partake of, share in, with the emphasis on the partaking rather than the association.

This point needs to be made so that the “fellowship” of the church will not be regarded as the camaraderie of a religious club. The core of koinonia is not social or associative, but theological and constitutive. Paul writes, “God is faithful through whom ye were called into the fellowship of his Son Jesus Christ our Lord” (1 Cor 1:9). This does not mean that we are called into an association established by Christ, nor that we are called into association with Christ, but that we are called to participate together in Christ. The same thought is expressed in Heb 3:14: “for we are become partakers [μέτοχοι, metochoi] of Christ, if we hold fast the beginning of our confidence firm unto the end.” (Cf. Heb 6:4, “those who were…made partakers of the Holy Spirit and tasted the good word of God….”) In the salutation of 1 Corinthians, Paul addresses the church as those called to be saints, and thanks God for “the grace of God which was given you in Christ Jesus; that in everything ye were enriched in him…so that ye come behind in no gift…” (verses 4–7).

The participation in Christ to which the Corinthians were called is that very blessing of receiving of the grace of God given in Christ of which Paul had been speaking.

This is not to deny that the church is a fellowship, nor that we have fellowship with Christ as well as with each other. The same book of Hebrews which speaks of partaking of Christ and of the Spirit also emphasizes the fact that Christ is made like unto his brethren and calls them brethren (Heb 2:11, 12, 17; cf. 1:9). In 1 John 1:3–7 the fellowship aspect of koinōnia is stressed; fellowship with the Father, the Son, and with one another is described.

Yet all such fellowship rests upon a vital relation to Christ which is more than associative. Paul emphasizes this core of koinōnia in the same epistle as he goes on to discuss the eating of meat offered to idols (1 Cor 10). The Christian participates in the body and blood of Christ in the sacramental feast and therefore cannot partake of the table of demons. That which is symbolized in the Lord’s supper is the spiritual experience of Christians. They are united to Christ as intimately as though they were to partake of his flesh and blood.

Perhaps a caution is needed against an opposite extreme. If koinōnia is more than mere association, it is less than sheer identity. Neither the term nor the teaching are clarified by lumping together all uses of koinōnia and metechein. It is true that Christ has shared in flesh and blood (Heb 2:14) and that we are made partakers of the divine nature (2 Pet 1:4).

Yet the two participations differ in character. We may not say that God took man’s nature that man might take God’s nature. The unity that we have with God through Christ rests upon the work of the God-man, but it does not constitute God-men.

It is true, nevertheless, that our participation in Christ, our union with Christ, is a relationship that is possible only between God and man and, indeed, only through the God-man.

Such koinōnia, such union with Christ, stamps every aspect of the life of the church. The suffering that the church endures is a sharing in his sufferings, not in the sense that the church continues his redemptive work but in the sense that the church, redeemed by his sufferings, suffers for his name in union with him. The worship of the church is transformed by this presence of Christ not only in the midst of his people but in their hearts. In the midst of the church Christ sings his Father’s praise (Heb 2:12; Psa 22:22). The witness of the church is sustained by this same abiding union with Christ. Paul proclaimed “the riches of this mystery among the Gentiles, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory” (Col 1:27). Through the indwelling presence of Christ the church manifests a new order: two or three gathered in his name must acknowledge him in the midst (Matt 18:20). Even the ministry of mercy is shaped by this fellowship. The “sharing” with impoverished saints becomes a spiritual sacrifice (Heb 13:16; 2 Cor 8, 9), a communion with Christ as well as with the least of his brethren. All ministry in the church is determined by the gift of the Christ in the midst and ministers union with him (Eph 4:11–16). Since it is in the Spirit that Christ is present with his people and they are united to him, we must turn to the final aspect of the biblical doctrine of the church: the church is the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.

C. The Fellowship of the Spirit

By the coming of Christ the people of God are gathered and renewed. As Lord, Christ claims his people for God; as Servant, Christ claims God for his people. The same covenant relation illumines the work of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit of the Living God, proceeding from the throne of Christ, actualizes and seals the new covenant. As the Spirit of God he possesses the people of God and is possessed by them. In both of these senses he seals the possession of the Father and the Son (Eph 1:13; 4:30; 2 Cor 1:21, 22).

This double relation of Giver and Gift does not betray any confusion as to the personality of the Holy Spirit. It is a mistake to think of the Giver as a divine Person and the Gift as an impersonal power. To be sure, there are gifts of the Spirit, enduements of grace resulting from his presence; but underlying these is the Gift of the Spirit himself, present as the living Seal of the bond between God and his people. To deny the deity of the Spirit or the personality of the Spirit is to rob the gospel of its crown, the realization of the covenant in the new presence of God among his people.

Those who were chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world are sealed as God’s heritage by the Spirit (Eph 1:11). By the same Spirit God is sealed to them as their inheritance. “In whom, having also believed, ye were sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise, which is an earnest of our inheritance, unto the redemption of God’s own possession, unto the praise of his glory” (Eph 1:13b, 14).

We may therefore reflect first on the Spirit as possessing the church and then on the Spirit as possessed by the church.

The Spirit’s possession of the people of God coms with the climax of redemptive history. God’s possession of his Old Testament people came by his epiphany on Sinai; the great renewal of the covenant came by God’s epiphany in the Incarnation. We look back to Sinai from the Mount of Transfiguration. But the triumph of the ascended Christ was received by his people with the epiphany of the Spirit at Pentecost. The mighty wind and the tongues of flame recall the whirlwind, fire, and earthquake of the Old Testament epiphanies (Acts 2:1–3; cf. 4:31; Exod 19:18; 20:18; 1 Kings 19:11, 12). The coming of the Spirit is the coming of the Lord.

Lordship as sovereign power is central to the meaning of “Spirit of God” in the Old Testament. Whether in the thunder of God’s wrath or in the still small voice of his counsel, the Spirit of God is supreme: “Not by might nor by power but by my Spirit saith the Lord of hosts” (Zech 4:6).

The great future work of God promised in the prophets must therefore come to pass by the Spirit of the Lord. The Spirit will restore and quicken the people of God (Ezek 37). Moses’ prayer that the Lord would put his Spirit on all his people (Num 11:29) will be fulfilled in the last days (Joel 2:28f). The Spirit will come especially upon the Messiah (Isa 11:2; 42:1; 61:1).

In the epiphany of Pentecost, the Spirit of God comes as the Spirit of the Father and of Christ. In his ministry Christ was anointed with the Spirit and labored in the fullness of the Spirit (Mark 1:10; Luke 4:1, 18). John promised that Jesus would baptize with the Spirit (John 1:33; Matt 3:11; Mark 1:8; Acts 1:5). At Pentecost Christ sends the Spirit from his throne (Acts 2:33; 1:4, 5; 10:44, 45). The Spirit does not supplant the Son, but is sent in Christ’s name (John 14:26) to reveal the things of Christ (John 16:13–15). In the Spirit Christ is present (John 14:18, 22; Rom 8:9, 10). The presence of the Spirit is not a poor substitute for the presence of the risen Christ but a full and glorious form of his presence. The disciples were taught by Christ to desire his going away so that the Spirit might come (John 16:7).

So close is the abiding Spirit that he becomes not only the Spirit of Christ’s Sonship but of our sonship. Christ our Advocate prays for us at God’s right hand in his resurrection body. He also prays for and in us here on earth in his Holy Spirit, who is the other Advocate come in his name. The Spirit who bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God is the Spirit of adoption whereby we cry, “Abba, Father” (Rom 8:15, 16).

The Spirit takes possession of the house of God, and dwells, abides among the people of God, the living temple of his presence. The Spirit is an “earnest” of the age to come, of the consummation glory to come. His presence is therefore promise as well as realization. But the promise, the pledge, lies in this, that in the Spirit the coming glory is already present. The “taste” of the Spirit is not a symbol but reality, the living presence of God.

We can only survey in barest outline the work of the Spirit in the church. As the Spirit of Life (Rom 8:2) he created the church; as the Spirit of Truth (John 14:17; 15:26; 1 John 4:6; 5:7) he guides the church. The Spirit applies both the redemption and the revelation of Christ to the church.

The Spirit is the author of life in the new birth (John 3:3–8). This new life includes radical cleansing as well as renewal. As we have seen, this new life is in Christ, for vital union with Christ is the work of the Spirit (Gal 4:6; Rom 8:12–30). It is a heavenly life, for holiness characterizes the life of the Spirit (Gal 5:22; Eph 5:18; Rom 8:1–13). Triumphant, abundant, rich with the fruits of the age to come, the life of the Spirit fills believers, saturates them, overwhelms them. The whole structure of the life of the church is a rigid shell apart from the fullness of the living Spirit.

Finally this is a common life in Christ. The richness of the work of the Spirit is both individual and corporate. The Spirit’s “dividing” (διαίρεσις, diairesis) of gifts to each member is the opposite of fleshly “divisions” (αι῞ρεσις, ʿairesis), for it produces harmony (cf. 1 Cor 12:4, 11 with 1 Cor 11:19). There is one Spirit as there is one Lord (Eph 4:4, 5). The unity of the church lies in the fellowship of the Spirit. Just here we must avoid “spiritualizing” the Holy Spirit! His immediate presence is real, and so is the unity his presence forges among believers. The unity of the Spirit can be as tangible as a handclasp or a cup of water.

The Spirit of Life is also the Spirit of Truth. The Word of God, living and active, is the Sword of the Spirit (Heb 4:12; Eph 6:17). The gulf that the modern mind puts between the Word of power and the written Word does not exist in Scripture itself. As the Spirit of Christ inspired the Old Testament prophets and the apostles and prophetic authors of the New Testament, he forged the bond of truth in which the church is built up. The true apostolicity of the church consists in its fidelity to the apostolic foundation laid by inspiration of the Spirit. Continuance in the apostolic teaching requires discipline in the truth. Submitting to the voice of the Holy Spirit speaking in Scripture, the true church finds in the rule of Christ’s Word freedom from bondage to men and the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

The Spirit works out his purpose for the church. In worship the Spirit is in the midst of the church and directs that response, that return of praise that is worship in Spirit and in truth. Edification is the Spirit’s purpose too, in sanctification through the Word, in growth in grace by which the church grows together in the image of Christ. The mission of the church is also the result of the Spirit’s work both in the witness of life and of word. Each of these areas defines an aspect of the church’s ministry: to God directly in worship; to the saints in edification; to the world in witness. In each area the ministry is empowered and ordered by the Spirit.

To accomplish his saving purposes, the Spirit of God is present as Gift to the people of God. The personal presence of the Spirit overcomes the divisions that would otherwise exist between calling and gifts, communion and community, institute and organism. As Newbigin remarks, the Spirit is the Author of both order and ardor. The tensions that we create between structural forms and dynamic functions are dissolved when the Spirit operates in power, for his gifts fulfill the structure of the people of God. Paul’s apostolic office, for example, is described by the phrase, “the grace given me” (Rom 15:15). The church recognizes gifts of the Spirit that require public recognition for their proper exercise.

Every gift of the Spirit creates a stewardship, for every gift includes a calling for its exercise. The gifts of the Spirit therefore require both mission to the world and the communion of saints. For to whom will the Christian minister his gift? “Who is my neighbor?” Dare anyone limit ministry of Christ’s gifts to some arbitrary classification of men?

Or, turn the question around. “Who is neighbor to me? Whose ministry do I need?” Shall a Christian select a group of like-minded friends and say, “These are my brethren. I will heed their admonitions, submit to these brethren in the Lord and rejoice with them”?

No, the man who claims the gifts of the Spirit in his own name rather than in Christ’s name forgets that he has nothing that he has not received. All the gifts of the Spirit are for the glory of Christ. The very gifts in which we are most tempted to take pride are those that are given for ministry, given for the building up of the body of Christ. Consider that Christians do not differ in the fruits of the Spirit, except in degree. Love, joy, peace, hope—in receiving these gifts we are made like one another and like Christ. Hard hearts may manage a pharisaical prayer thanking God for extraordinary achievements in showing such fruit. But more often we boast in peculiar gifts, those graces by which we differ from others. But why does God make Christians to differ? So that they might serve in the body of Christ. Paul writes, “Now there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. And there are diversities of ministrations, and the same Lord. And there are diversities of workings, but the same God, who worketh all things in all. But to each one is given the manifestation of the Spirit to profit withal” (1 Cor 12:4–7).

Differing gifts are callings to ministries. If the body were indeed “all ears” there would be no seeing, no smelling, not to speak of the lack of talking for the ears to hear. No, God has set each organ of ministry in the body as it has pleased him. What God has joined together let not man put asunder! Neither pride nor envy may disrupt the unity of the body. The proud head cannot say to the lowly feet, “I don’t need you.” Neither can the foot say in envy, “I am not the hand. I don’t seem to count in the body. I resign.”

Quite to the contrary, the members of the body suffer or rejoice together. The parts that are least necessary receive extraordinary attention—witness the coiffures of Paul’s time and ours!

The apostle wrote in this way to rebuke an incipient party spirit at Corinth, a spirit that has borne such sad fruit through the ages. It is Christ’s command that we keep the unity of the Spirit in sharing the Spirit’s gifts. The church must receive those endued with gifts of Christ as Christ himself, and every Christian must minister his spiritual gifts as he has opportunity for the whole body of Christ.

That same concreteness of obedience that unites the church in the Spirit as Possessor unites it also in the Spirit as Possessed. The stewardship of the gifts of the Spirit is a most visible activity. It includes both the ministry of the general office of believers and the service of the special offices in the church. Paul manifests the unity of the Spirit not only in his own apostolic labors but in his concern that the Gentile churches should unite in carrying their gifts to Jerusalem, and in his warm eagerness to see that those who have labored with special gifts in one area of the church should be received and acknowledged in another.

The ministry of the Spirit orders the kingdom of Christ. The exercise of the gifts of the Spirit apart from the order of the Spirit threatened chaos at Corinth. To correct this Paul linked order and government with edification. The fellowship of the Spirit binds Christians together in spiritual discipline. If Christians do not admonish one another and even, on occasion, rebuke one another, they ignore the Spirit’s own work as Lord and Sanctifier.

The refusal of discipline undermines any movement toward church unity. It is the constitutive principle of the World Council of Churches that each member church is free to interpret the basis of the organization as it sees fit. This organization, which is bold to speak in the name of the Spirit, has set aside a fundamental requirement of the ministry of the Spirit of Truth: that the church pronounce anathema in the name of the Lord the lies of antichrist. Separation is the other side of fellowship. The unity of the Spirit can be maintained only in separation from Hymenaeus and Philetus and their modern counterparts.

The ecumenical movement seeks unity but refuses to exclude those who deny apostolic doctrine. Evangelicals cling to New Testament doctrine but often ignore its requirements for the purity and unity of the church. The Apostle Paul shows a more excellent way, the way of the Spirit who both binds the church in one and purifies it as the spotless bride of Christ.

Christ calls his scattered sheep to the unity of his Spirit. We must heed his voice and buy up the opportunity. Spiritual revival for the church is revival by the Spirit of him of whom it was said, “The zeal of thine house hath eaten me up” (John 2:17). To order the fellowship of the saints by the Word of Christ is to build the holy temple of the Lord and to edify the body of Christ. The riches of biblical revelation concerning the church come from the Lord who “loved the church, and gave himself for it; that he might sanctify and cleanse it by the washing of water by the word, that he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish” (Eph 5:25–27).

It is time for the true bride to hear the voice of the bridegroom. The path where he calls may seem impassible, blocked by the rubble of tradition and the walls of rebellion; but Christ calls his church. He will be answered, not in the weary tones of political opportunism, but in ardor of jealous love.

Notes

1. J. C. Hoekendijk, “The Church in Missionary Thinking,” The International Review of Missions, XLI (1952), 325.
2. J. C. Hoekendijk, The Church Inside Out (trans., Isaac C. Rottenberg, Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1966).
3. Walter M. Abbott, S.J., ed., The Documents of Vatican II (New York: Herder and Herder, 1966), pp. 14–96.
4. Hans KÜng, The Church (trans., Ray and Rosaleen Ockenden, New York: Sheed and Ward, 1967).
5. Jean Bosc, The Kingly Office of the Lord Jesus Christ (trans., A. K. S. Reid, Edinburgh and London: Oliver and Boyd, 1959), p. 145.
6. Cf. Clinton D. Morrison, The Powers that Be (Naperville, Ill.: Alec R. Allenson, 1960).
7. Walter M. Abbott, op. cit., p. 55.
8. Thomas Wieser, ed., Planning for Mission (New York: The U. S. Conference for the World Council of Churches, 1966), p. 54.
9. The Church for Others (Geneva: World Council of Churches, 1967), p. 14.
10. Hendrikus Berkhof asks, “Or is Christ the Head of the Church in another way than he is the Head of the world? By no means!” Key Words of the Gospel (New York: Friendship Press, 1964), p. 113.
11. Article κεφαλή, Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Gerhard Kittel, ed.; trans., G. W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans), III (1965), 681. (Hereafter cited as TDNT.)
12. Visser ‘t Hooft, ed., The New Delhi Report (New York: Association Press, 1962), p. 157.
13. See Harvey Cox, The Secular City (New York: Macmillan, 1965), p. 145.
14. Gibson Winter, The New Creation as Metropolis (New York: Macmillan, 1963), p. 73.
15. Ibid., P. 58.
16. George W. Webber, The Congregation in Mission (New York and Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1964), p. 67. Cf. Harvey Cox, op. cit., pp. 254–256.
17. A Theological Reflection on the Work of Evangelism, Special Issue of the World Council of Churches Division of Studies: Bulletin (Lausanne: La Concorde), Vol. V, nos. 1 and 2, p. 25.
18. See Richard Shaull, “Revolutionary Change in Theological Perspective” in John C. Bennett, ed., Christian Social Ethics in a Changing World (New York: Association Press, 1966), pp. 23–43.
19. The Church for Others, p. 11.
20. “The God who is tearing down old structures in order to create the conditions for a more human existence is himself in the midst of the struggle.” Shaull, op. cit., p. 33.
21. Ibid.
22. The Church for Others, p. 78.
23. Ibid., p. 76.
24. Cited in J. Robert Nelson, The Realm of Redemption (London: Epworth Press, 1951), p. 90.
25. Anders Nygren, Christ and His Church (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1956), pp. 99,100.
26. John A. T. Robinson, The Body (London: SCM Press, 1952), p. 57.
27. Ibid., p. 51.
28. Lumen Gentium II:14, in Walter M. Abbott, op. cit., p. 32.
29. Lumen Gentium I:8, ibid., p. 22.
30. Ibid., p. 15.
31. See for example the report “Christ and the Church” submitted by the American section to the Fourth World Conference on Faith and Order, Montreal, 1963. Paul S. Minear, ed., Faith and Order Findings (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1963), esp. pp. 9, 24-30.
32. Claude Welch, The Reality of the Church (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1958).
33. Cyril C. Richardson, The Doctrine of the Trinity (New York and Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1958).
34. Thomas J. J. Altizer, “Word and History” in Radical Theology and the Death of God (New York: Bobbs Merrill, 1966), pp. 121–139.
35. Leslie Newbigin, The Household of God (London: SCM Press, 1953).
36. J. Y. Campbell, “The Origin and Meaning of the Christian Use of the Word EKKAHEIA,” The Journal of Theological Studies, 49 (1948), 130–142. James Barr, The Semantics of Biblical Language (London: Oxford University Press, 1961), pp. 119–129.
37. G. Ernest Wrigbt, The Biblical Doctrine of Man in Society (London: SCM Press, 1954), pp. 78,79.
38. Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics (trans., G. W. Bromiley, et. al., Edinburgh: T. and T. Clark), II:2, 414–430.
39. So Alan Richardson, An Introduction to the Theology of the New Testament (London: SCM Press, 1958), p. 216. Oscar Cullmann’s explanation of primitive Christian universalism likewise contains this view. See Christ and Time (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1950), p. 186.
40. This is pointed out by Ernest Best, Our Body in Christ (London: SPCK, 1955), p. 124.
41. Clinton D. Morrison, op. cit., stresses this common understanding, which he would extend in large measure to Hellenistic culture as well as Judaism.
42. Menahem Mansoor, The Thanksgiving Hymns (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1961), p. 79, “Angels are classed in two main groups—good and evil—whose respective functions are strongly linked with the fundamental dualistic teachings of the Sect.” The Scrolls are much more full in speaking of the holy angels who surround the Almighty. The final eschatological combat is described in 1QH 3:32–36.
43. L. Cerfaux writes: “Thus Paul is aware of two different reconciliations: the reconciliation of the Jews and Gentiles in the church (Eph 2:14–16), and the reconciliation which brings about the subjection of the powers to Christ through the victory of the cross (Col 2:14 et seq). The two just cannot be compared. The powers and the Law are defeated in the drama of the passion, while mankind is saved, not overcome. The church is made up of the saved.” L. Cerfaux, The Church in the Theology of St. Paul (trans., Geoffrey Webb and Adrian Walker, New York: Herder and Herder, 1959), p. 339. The main distinction here is well taken.
44. Among the surveys of the possible origins of the body figure in Paul the following are concise: Markus Barth, “A Chapter on the Church—The Body of Christ,” Interpretation, XII (1958), 131–156, esp. pp. 136–141. J. J. Meuzelaar, Der Leib des Messias (Assen: Van Gorcum, 1961), pp. 1–19. Ernest Best, One Body in Christ (London: SPCK, 1955), pp. 83–93.
45. George Johnston puts this well: “As He is the life of each, so is He the life of the whole; and the compelling link of the Christian society is the abiding of each one in union with the life-giving Saviour.” George Johnston, The Doctrine of the Church in the New Testament (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1943), p. 93.
46. Cerfaux, op. cit., p. 326.
47. Cerfaux shows that the introduction of the body figure for the church in the captivity epistles does not set aside the concept of the church as the people of God (L. Cerfaux, op. cit., pp. 373ff).
48. Cf. Koehler-Baumgartner, Lexicon, pp. 865f; for LXX translations see Schlier, art. κεφαλή, TDNT, III, 675. In secular Greek kephalē was much more limited. It was used metaphorically for completion or total (sums were added upward) but not as a synonym for archē. Cf. Liddell and Scott, Greek-English Lexicon, under κεφαλή. On the connection in Hebrew thought of the head, the beginning, and the firstborn, see J. J. Meuzelaar, op. cit., pp. 117ff.
49. See Cerfaux, op. cit., p. 370; Pierre Benoit, “Corps, tÊte et plÉrÔme dans les ÉpÎtres de la CaptivitÉ,” Revue biblique, 63 (1956), 26; Stephen Bedale, “The Meaning Of κεφαλή in the Pauline Epistles,” Journal of Theological Studies, N.S. 5 (1954), 211–215.
50. Herman Ridderbos, Paulus (Kampen: J. H. Kok, 1966), pp. 432f.
51. These passages are cited by A. H. Strong, Systematic Theology (Philadelphia: Griffith and Rowland, 1909), III, 795f.
52. On this term see D. F. Hauck, art. “κοιυωυία” in Kittel, TDNT, III, 789–809; L. S. Thornton, The Common Life in the Body of Christ (London: Dacre Press, 3rd ed., 1950); J. G. Davies, Members One of Another, Aspects of Koinonia (London: A. R. Mowbray, 1958); J. Y. Campbell, “ΚΟΙΝΩΝΙΑ and Its Cognates in the N. T.,” Journal of Biblical Literature, 51 (1932), 352–380.
53. J. Y. Campbell, op. cit., p. 353.