1 Thessalonians 3

¹ Therefore when we could bear it no longer, we were willing to be left behind at Athens alone, ² and we sent Timothy, our brother and God’s coworker in the gospel of Christ, to establish and exhort you in your faith, ³ that no one be moved by these afflictions. For you yourselves know that we are destined for this. ⁴ For when we were with you, we kept telling you beforehand that we were to suffer affliction, just as it has come to pass, and just as you know. ⁵ For this reason, when I could bear it no longer, I sent to learn about your faith, for fear that somehow the tempter had tempted you and our labor would be in vain. ⁶ But now that Timothy has come to us from you, and has brought us the good news of your faith and love and reported that you always remember us kindly and long to see us, as we long to see you— ⁷ for this reason, brothers, in all our distress and affliction we have been comforted about you through your faith. ⁸ For now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord. ⁹ For what thanksgiving can we return to God for you, for all the joy that we feel for your sake before our God, ¹⁰ as we pray most earnestly night and day that we may see you face to face and supply what is lacking in your faith? ¹¹ Now may our God and Father himself, and our Lord Jesus, direct our way to you, ¹² and may the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all, as we do for you, ¹³ so that he may establish your hearts blameless in holiness before our God and Father, at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all his saints.

Some years ago I read a fascinating and troubling interview with John Derbyshire, at that time at National Review. Derbyshire was talking about his own lack of faith and reported this anecdote form his own family.

I have the depressing example, in my own family, of an uncle who lost his faith at the very end of life. He’d been a staunch Methodist…Fred was, in fact, the only close relative of mine to be religious in a busy, dedicated way helping with church functions, lay reading, that sort of thing…Then in his late 70s he got esophagal cancer, and spent several months dying slowly. It’s an awful way to go: slow starvation and slow choking, simultaneously. At some point he lost his lifelong faith, and died an atheist, railing at the folly of religion…Anyway, the example of Uncle Fred has been lurking there in the back of my mind ever since. You hear a lot about deathbed conversions, but not much about deathbed apostasies. Well, let me tell you, it happens.[1]

“Deathbed apostasy.” Derbyshire is right: You do not hear a lot about that. But it does happen.

In many ways, life seems to assault our faith. Some stand strong like unmoved citadels. Some collapse. But many are in the middle: They continue to believe, but their faith is buffeted and in need of strengthening.

The young Thessalonian church was suffering. They were undergoing persecution. And Paul (who himself had had to flee Thessalonica earlier) was worried. Would the church there hold on to their faith in Jesus? Would the devil use their sufferings to tempt them to abandon the faith? Or would they stand firm?

As it turns out, these are the same questions that confront us today.

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Titus 1

⁵ This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might put what remained into order, and appoint elders in every town as I directed you— ⁶ if anyone is above reproach, the husband of one wife, and his children are believers and not open to the charge of debauchery or insubordination. ⁷ For an overseer, as God’s steward, must be above reproach. He must not be arrogant or quick-tempered or a drunkard or violent or greedy for gain, ⁸ but hospitable, a lover of good, self-controlled, upright, holy, and disciplined. ⁹ He must hold firm to the trustworthy word as taught, so that he may be able to give instruction in sound doctrine and also to rebuke those who contradict it.

It was recently revealed that yet another high-profile pastor has fallen. This pastor is in his 70s. He is a conservative stalwart, theologically, and is active on the speaking circuit. One or two of the books in my library have his name on the cover. I have heard him speak more than once at conferences. The “other woman,” as they say, is in her 20s. The issue of “power dynamics” has been raised, not without reason. The entire situation is utterly tragic.

As this scandal unfolded, many began to wonder about the strange silence surrounding it, particularly from the church he pastored. Why had they not brought church discipline against him? Why were the elders of the church not addressing this public scandal in a sufficient way?

Then it became clear: Apparently this man—well-known and heretofore well-respected as a pastor—was not actually the pastor of the church he appeared to pastor. He was not the undershepherd of the church, though seemingly everybody thought he was. He was not even a member of the church. As it turns out, he allegedly had an agreement with the church that he would be paid to preach on Sunday mornings. That is it. One insider said that he would drive up, preach, then drive away.

One wonders: Was this arrangement so that the man in question could sidestep the clear biblical requirements for an elder? In other words, by not technically being an elder (but, instead, a weekly speaker), could he perhaps be exempted from the high standards of the office? To which I think we should say that one ought not play games with the church and, more importantly, with God. God sees the heart and God knows our characters…and God is never fooled by technicalities. In fact, this man presented himself as a shepherd and, as a proclaimer of the word, he has a responsibility to make sure that his life matches his profession.

There was a time earlier in my life when I used to hear this mantra during a particular presidential campaign: “Character counts!” Indeed, it does! Which is why Paul, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, gives the qualifications for elders in the church.

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1 Thessalonians 2:13–20

¹³ And we also thank God constantly for this, that when you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God, which is at work in you believers. ¹⁴ For you, brothers, became imitators of the churches of God in Christ Jesus that are in Judea. For you suffered the same things from your own countrymen as they did from the Jews, ¹⁵ who killed both the Lord Jesus and the prophets, and drove us out, and displease God and oppose all mankind ¹⁶ by hindering us from speaking to the Gentiles that they might be saved—so as always to fill up the measure of their sins. But wrath has come upon them at last! ¹⁷ But since we were torn away from you, brothers, for a short time, in person not in heart, we endeavored the more eagerly and with great desire to see you face to face, ¹⁸ because we wanted to come to you—I, Paul, again and again—but Satan hindered us. ¹⁹ For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? ²⁰ For you are our glory and joy.

In 1952, Flannery O’Connor published her controversial and fascinating novel, Wise Blood. It is a story of a man named Hazel Motes who returns from World War II as an atheist and begins to actively preach his atheism around town. In the process, he encounters a charlatan preacher named Hoover Shoats who realizes he can make some money from Hazel Motes’ atheistic preaching. So, Hoover Shoats changes his name to Onnie Jay Holy and announces the arrival of a new church. He then proclaims the atheist preacher Hazel Motes (who wants nothing to do with Onnie Jay Holy) a prophet!

Onnie J. Holy decides to name his church “The Holy Church of Christ Without Christ” and charges everybody $1 to become a member! He then proclaims that there are three reasons why folks can pay that dollar and trust in The Holy Church of Christ Without Christ.

First:

“In the first place, friends, you can rely on it that it’s nothing foreign connected with it. You don’t have to believe nothing you don’t understand and approve of. If you don’t understand it, it ain’t true, and that’s all there is to it. No jokers in the deck, friends.”

Second:

“Now, friends,” Onnie Jay said, “I want to tell you a second reason why you can absolutely trust this church—it’s based on the Bible. Yes sir! It’s based on your own personal interpitation of the Bible friends. You can sit at home and interpit your own Bible however you feel in your heart it ought to be interpited. That’s right,” he said, “just the way Jesus would have done it. Gee, I wisht I had my gittarr here,” he complained.

And third:

“This church is up-to-date! When your in this church you can know that there’s nothing or nobody ahead of you, nobody knows nothing you don’t know, all the cards are on the table, friends, and that’s a fack!”[1]

In other words, Onnie Jay Holy’s Church of Christ Without Christ:

1. Makes your own understanding of God all that matters and therefore removes all mystery and all possibility of growth.
2. Makes the Bible say whatever you personally want it to say and nobody can tell you that you are wrong in any interpretation.
3. Makes all people’s opinions absolutely equal and so nobody can say that they know more than anybody else.

Well! That might sound crazy to you…or it might sound familiar! In point of fact, when Flannery O’Connor wrote Wise Blood she was hoping to critique some of the kinds of Christianity she was encountering in her own day. O’Connor was a Christian and, because she was, she had little tolerance for the kind of nonsense she depicted in Onnie Jay Holy’s Church of Christ Without Christ.

But if that is what a church without Christ looks like, what does a church with Christ look like? To answer that, we can turn to 1 Thessalonians 2:13–20. The Thessalonian believers had Jesus in their midst. What, then, did they look like?

To get at this I would like to offer you three key words, three Greek words that highlight the difference that Jesus makes in a church. This is what happens when a church gives itself to Jesus!

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Titus 1

⁵ This is why I left you in Crete, so that you might put what remained into order, and appoint elders in every town as I directed you

^7a–c For an overseer, as God’s steward, must be above reproach…

I remember as a kid when I first learned to do the “Here’s the church” game with my hands. Remember? [Fingers interlocked, pointing down] “Here’s the church…” [Index fingers pointed upward] “…Here’s the steeple…” [Thumbs opened outward] “…Open the door…” [Hands flipped over, fingers wiggling upright] “…and see all the people!”

That is a fun little memory from my childhood. I bet many of you remember it as well.

Whatever you think of the theology of it, it is indeed a theological and ecclesiological assertion! That is, it does claim to say something about what a church is. But it is pretty limited, is it not? For instance, it says nothing about the organization of the church. Of course, how could it, really?

It is interesting to see how the organization and structure of the church seems to develop throughout the New Testament and in the history of the early church. The lack of exhaustive details likely contributed to the wide range of views represented in denominations today. Yet, the New Testament does paint a picture of the internal organization of the church: of how its leadership is structured.

Titus 1 is an important chapter in this regard, specifically verses 5 and 7. You might not think that these two verses would lead to such depths of discussion and debate among Christians, but, indeed, they play their part.

Why are these two verses important? Specifically, they are important for what they say in verse 5 about “elders” and, in verse 7, about “steward[s].” Let us consider these two verses and let us place them alongside other verses in the New Testament that speak of the right ordering of the church.

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Titus 1

¹ Paul, a servant of God and an apostle of Jesus Christ, for the sake of the faith of God’s elect and their knowledge of the truth, which accords with godliness, ² in hope of eternal life, which God, who never lies, promised before the ages began ³ and at the proper time manifested in his word through the preaching with which I have been entrusted by the command of God our Savior; ⁴ To Titus, my true child in a common faith: Grace and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Savior.

I have in my hands a yellow, hardbound book published in 1975 and entitled Notes, Quotes, and Anecdotes. In and of itself, the book is unremarkable. It is a fairly typical collection of stories and quotes that preachers and public speakers can turn to for illustrative material.

I do not actually use the book. And yet, the book is one of my most prized possessions. Why? Because on the first page of the book there is a handwritten letter to me from a now-deceased minister who I revere. He was a Baptist pastor. He was my Grandfather. He gave me this book after I shared with him that God had called me into the ministry. He wrote the following in it (typed here as he wrote it):

To a special Grandson

Wyman Lewis Richardson

some one special to the family and especially to God

May he always put Jesus

first place and all the

rest will Come in place

always remember Wyman

God Loved you & Loves you

More than his own Life

St. John 3:16

See you in Heaven Wyman

All because of Jesus

Grandaddy Richardson

This is more of an inscription than an epistle, but there are similarities, I would argue. An older minister writes a younger minister to remind him of the gospel and call on him to focus on Jesus. I know what this little note means to me. It is priceless.

So, too, is Paul’s letter to Titus. In the book of Titus, the older minister, the Apostle Paul, writes to a younger minister. He reminds him of the gospel and calls on him to focus. And we are privileged to be able to consider this amazing letter today.

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1 Thessalonians 1

¹ Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy, To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ: Grace to you and peace. ² We give thanks to God always for all of you, constantly mentioning you in our prayers, ³ remembering before our God and Father your work of faith and labor of love and steadfastness of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. ⁴ For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you, ⁵ because our gospel came to you not only in word, but also in power and in the Holy Spirit and with full conviction. You know what kind of men we proved to be among you for your sake. ⁶ And you became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you received the word in much affliction, with the joy of the Holy Spirit, ⁷ so that you became an example to all the believers in Macedonia and in Achaia. ⁸ For not only has the word of the Lord sounded forth from you in Macedonia and Achaia, but your faith in God has gone forth everywhere, so that we need not say anything. ⁹ For they themselves report concerning us the kind of reception we had among you, and how you turned to God from idols to serve the living and true God, ¹⁰ and to wait for his Son from heaven, whom he raised from the dead, Jesus who delivers us from the wrath to come.

On April 15, 2019, the Cathedral of Notre-Dame de Paris burned. Do you remember? The roof was engulfed in flame. The roof was destroyed, the wooden spire, and some of the upper walls were damaged.

I recall watching those flames on the news with a degree of horror. That cathedral is one of the great historic works of art, and the sight of seeing its roof on fire was terrible. Anthony Esolen was moved to take up his pen and write while he watched it burn. In his reflections on the burning church, he revisited the question of whether or not modern people could actually build a church like that. Could we build such a thing today? I found what he wrote very moving:

People are saying that we cannot build such a thing now. That is true. We lack the artisans. We do not have the techne: we likely could not fashion a single many-colored jewel in the 16-rayed north window, with the Virgin Mary and the Christ Child in the center of all. We cannot make the glass. We cannot mix the colors. We would have to guess and do our best.

But we would not build it now. It is not just that our hands lack the skill. Our hearts do not beat warmly enough, and our minds do not see. Think of that Mother and Child. What did it mean? The whole of creation and the life of man revolve, like the spokes of a wheel, about the submission of a woman to the will of God, and the humility of Christ, who emptied himself, and came to dwell among us in human form, not as an Alaric or Augustus, but as a servant, obedient unto death.

What have we built? What do we love?[1]

In other words, Esolen argues, we would not build such a great church today not only because we lack the skill, but mainly because we lack the love to do so.

Those two questions are haunting and cutting: “What have we built? What do we love?”

Esolen was caught in a moment while writing that, but in waxing eloquent he put his finger on something very important: Without love, you cannot build a church. And I do not mean a building. You actually can build a building without love (though Esolen likely has a point about the quality and kind of church building you can build without love), but you certainly cannot be a church without love.

It is the heart of the church that matters, not the edifice, not the structure. It is telling that when Paul wrote his first letter to the Thessalonians, he leaned heavily into this truth. He spoke not only of his heart for the Thessalonian Christians but also of their heart for him and for the gospel and for Jesus and for the body of Christ the world over.

It is a heart turned to Jesus that makes a church, whether we have a building or not.

I am calling this sermon on 1 Thessalonians 1 “A Goodly Church.” Let us consider the church’s heart and what it should be.

Paul is writing this first letter to the Christians of Thessalonica. In Acts 17, we are given the historical background and context of the letter.

¹ Now when they had passed through Amphipolis and Apollonia, they came to Thessalonica, where there was a synagogue of the Jews. ² And Paul went in, as was his custom, and on three Sabbath days he reasoned with them from the Scriptures, ³ explaining and proving that it was necessary for the Christ to suffer and to rise from the dead, and saying, “This Jesus, whom I proclaim to you, is the Christ.” ⁴ And some of them were persuaded and joined Paul and Silas, as did a great many of the devout Greeks and not a few of the leading women. ⁵ But the Jews were jealous, and taking some wicked men of the rabble, they formed a mob, set the city in an uproar, and attacked the house of Jason, seeking to bring them out to the crowd. ⁶ And when they could not find them, they dragged Jason and some of the brothers before the city authorities, shouting, “These men who have turned the world upside down have come here also, ⁷ and Jason has received them, and they are all acting against the decrees of Caesar, saying that there is another king, Jesus.” ⁸ And the people and the city authorities were disturbed when they heard these things.⁹ And when they had taken money as security from Jason and the rest, they let them go. ¹⁰ The brothers immediately sent Paul and Silas away by night to Berea, and when they arrived they went into the Jewish synagogue.

In short, Paul and Silas are in Thessalonica. They preach Jesus. Some of the Thessalonians believe. They found a church there. Then, Paul and Barnabas are sent out of the city as many of those in the synagogues lash out in anger against the believers there. So, in 1 Thessalonians, we have the letter that Paul sends back to the young church in Thessalonica after he and Silas had to leave.

Craig Keener writes:

First and Second Thessalonians may be the earliest of Paul’s extant letters, written shortly after the evangelization of the Thessalonians, hence by about A.D. 50, within two decades of Jesus’ resurrection.[2]

In the first chapter, Paul highlights the beauty of this new church, which is to say, he highlights their heart.

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Matthew 28

¹¹ While they were going, behold, some of the guard went into the city and told the chief priests all that had taken place. ¹² And when they had assembled with the elders and taken counsel, they gave a sufficient sum of money to the soldiers ¹³ and said, “Tell people, ‘His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.’ ¹⁴ And if this comes to the governor’s ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble.” ¹⁵ So they took the money and did as they were directed. And this story has been spread among the Jews to this day. ¹⁶ Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. ¹⁷ And when they saw him they worshiped him, but some doubted. ¹⁸ And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. ¹⁹ Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, ²⁰ teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you. And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

It is interesting how different denominations seem to like different Bible verses. Presbyterians really like the verses that talk about covenants. Wesleyan Holiness folk like verses that talk about sanctification. Episcopalians like verses that talk about justice. Reformed Baptists like Romans 9. And Southern Baptists really like John 3:16 and Matthew 28:16–20, or the great salvation verse and The Great Commission verses that establish the missionary mandate of the church.

And it is interesting how human beings can treasure something so much that we miss some obvious and surprising realities that sit right next to the things we treasure.

For example, has it occurred to you that Matthew 28, the last chapter of the book of Matthew, actually contains twoproclamation commissions? And that they are back-to-back? It is true! Just before The Great Commission that ends Matthew’s gospel, there is another commission to go and spread a message. But this first commission is the antithesis of The Great Commission. In fact, we will call in The Shameful Commission.

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The Sunday, September 15, sermon, “The Least of These,” does not have a manuscript. But you can watch video here or hear audio here.

I am looking at a still from an ABC news story about tornados that ravaged a region of the country a few years ago. The image is startling but, sadly, all-too familiar: trees stripped bare, splintered lumber piled haphazardly on the foundation where a house used to be, insulation, debris, devastation, and, as often happens, a beautiful blue sky in the aftermath.

The tornado came. The tornado destroyed. The tornado left.

It is a picture of devastation.

But, in this picture, there is something else. There, right in the middle, stands a large, steel box. It is, in fact, a storm shelter, anchored into the foundation. And it is standing. The debris is literally piled around it and, on one side, upon it. But the shelter remains. And, most importantly, the family that hid in that shelter also remains. It saved their lives.

The image looks like everything in the world had been violently shaken, but the shelter could withstand it.

The shelter was a safe refuge.

The shelter could not be shaken.

The writer of Hebrews will use imagery similar to this when he says something most fascinating about the Kingdom of God.

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Matthew 27

⁶² The next day, that is, after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate ⁶³ and said, “Sir, we remember how that impostor said, while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise.’ ⁶⁴ Therefore order the tomb to be made secure until the third day, lest his disciples go and steal him away and tell the people, ‘He has risen from the dead,’ and the last fraud will be worse than the first.” ⁶⁵ Pilate said to them, “You have a guard of soldiers. Go, make it as secure as you can.” ⁶⁶ So they went and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone and setting a guard.

Matthew 28

¹ Now after the Sabbath, toward the dawn of the first day of the week, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. ² And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. ³ His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. ⁴ And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men. ⁵ But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. ⁶ He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. ⁷ Then go quickly and tell his disciples that he has risen from the dead, and behold, he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him. See, I have told you.” ⁸ So they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. ⁹ And behold, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came up and took hold of his feet and worshiped him. ¹⁰ Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”

Some years back, the philosopher and theologian David Bentley Hart published a list of his favorite fiction books. Among them was The Blind Owl by the Iranian author Sadegh Hedayat. It is a strange an interesting book. In it, the protagonist reflects from his sickbed on his disinterest in religion and in God.

Several days ago she brought me a prayer book that had a layer of dust on it—not only had I no use for a prayer book, but likewise no sort of rabble book, writing, or idea had any use for me. What use had I for their lies and nonsense, was not I, myself, the product of a long line of past generations and were not their inherited experiences found in me, was not the past in my being?—But none of this has ever had any effect on me: neither mosque, nor the call of the muezzin, nor ablutions and spitting, and bending over and standing upright before an almighty god with absolute power that one has to converse with in Arabic. Beforehand, when I was healthy, if I several times obligatorily went to the mosque and tried to harmonize my heart with those of others, inevitably my eyes would wander and stare at the glazed tiles and the forms and patterns of the walls of the mosque, transporting me to the realm of pleasant dreams, and in this way I would find a means of escape for myself—During prayer I would close my eyes and hold my palms in front of my face—in this night that I had created for myself, like the words they unconsciously repeat while sleeping, I would pray, but the utterance of these words was not from deep within my heart, for I would much rather talk to a friend or an acquaintance than with God, with Almighty God! For God was too much for me.

Whilst lying in a warm and damp bed, all of these issues were not worth more than a grain of barley to me, and at these times I did not want to know whether a God truly existed or if it was an object the rulers on earth have conceived to consolidate their divine station and ravage their subjects—to reflect the images on earth onto the sky—I only wanted to know whether or not I would make it through the night until the next morning—Confronted with death, I sensed how weak and childish were religion, faith and belief, almost a kind of diversion for healthy and fortunate persons—Confronted with the horrifying actuality of death and the suffering that I went through, all that they had inculcated in me about reward and punishment of the soul and the Day of Resurrection had become an insipid lie, and when confronted with the fear of death the prayers that they had taught me had no effect.—[1]

This strikes me as tragic and heartbreaking: a sick man scoffing at the idea of resurrection, seeing it as “an insipid lie” that had “no effect” on him when confronted “with the fear of death.”

Hedayat himself was a talented but tragic figure. Consider his passing:

In 1951, overwhelmed by despair, Hedayat left Tehrān and traveled to Paris, where he rented an apartment. A few days before his death, Hedayat tore up all of his unpublished work. On 9 April 1951, he plugged all the doors and windows of his rented apartment with cotton, then turned on the gas valve, committing suicide by carbon monoxide poisoning. Two days later, his body was found by police, with a note left behind for his friends and companions that read, “I left and broke your heart. That is all.”[2]

He was 48 years old when he took his own life.

I do not claim to know all that was going on in Hedayat’s life, but it does strike me that trust in a good God and in the reality of life after death and in the reality of resurrection could have helped him immensely.

Indeed, the resurrection of Jesus is presented in scripture as the antidote to despair: the despair of the disciples when confronted with the reality of death and the despair of the world at large when confronted with the same. At the end of Matthew 27 and the beginning of Matthew 28, we find the powers seeking to stop the resurrection from taking place…and failing miserably in their attempt. And we may thank God for this!

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