Labarum

Having covered the major evidence for why Christians should have the Eucharist as part of their regular worship, I now turn to why anyone would have thought differently. If the Eucharist had been a norm for worship within the Church for fifteen centuries, why did those seeking reform toss this practice aside as so much flotsam? If one examines the evidence carefully, it seems the reason for doing so may have had much to do with the same misguided attitudes that necessitated reform.

Although the practice until the time of the Reformation had been to celebrate the Eucharist weekly and even daily, this did not mean that worshippers received communion each service. Usually only the priests communed while the laity went about their business of private devotions. The roles of the bishops, presbyters, and deacons had evolved from order within the Church to officials of the Church.

As with officials in the secular government, the clergy now too had the responsibilities of carrying out their offices with the judgments rendered by their superiors. Under this understanding, the laity became the bottom rung of the ladder. All of this had less to do with needs within the Church as the evolution of society in Western Christendom. The papacy may have at first carried on the traditions of Roman society, but it eventually took on the feudal view of the Frankish monarchs whose protection it sought as the power of Constantinople faded.

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Havng addressed the patristic evidence for the normative use of the Eucharist in worship has naturally led to the Scriptural evidence from the earliest period of the Church. Since the New Testament does not address the matter of worship and liturgical norms as did the Torah for the Israelites, there might be some question whether there is any norm at all. What I seek to point out is that while few specific liturgical instructions are given, the entire New Testament does presume certain liturgical practices in its description of the early Church.

However, before going any further it is necessary to state this does not imply that other forms of worship are invalidated because they lack regular communion. The point is not that their worship is null but that it is in some sense deficient. In order to see the distinction, let us imagine a group of Christians who read the Bible regularly on their own but were not yet members of a local church met once a week to pray and give thanksgiving to God. Would they be worshipping? Of course! Now suppose the same group founded a church and continued in the same pattern. No scripture readings or preaching but only prayers and thanksgiving and perhaps some hymns. All reading of Scripture was done on their own time but they were conscientious about it. Again, they might still be worshipping God, but their worship would have obvious deficiencies. Now suppose they saw the point but decided to have Scripture reading and preaching once a month because otherwise it wouldn’t be as “special.” Again this is an improvement but the deficiencies are still there. The situation in both cases is a worship that is missing one or more marks of true Christian worship in its fullness and is in this sense disordered. It is not a question of what Christians must do in worship but what they should do.

Now turning to what the New Testament actually states on the matter, there are two matters we need to consider. The first is why there is nothing as clearly stated as the rules given in the Torah. The second is what the New Testament actually can tell us about the role of the sacrament in the early Church. I would contend it does in fact tell us a lot.

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The New Testament gives only incidental information concerning the worship of the early Church. Thus it does help to investigate non-canonical sources from early Christianity concerning what liturgical structures might have been in place among the first Christians. If there appears to be a consistent witness from the earliest days, then any competing idea would obviously have the burden of proof upon itself.

One does find among some Evangelicals the idea that early worship was radically different from that which was dominant in the post-Constantinian period. The contention is that the centrality of the Eucharist and its accompanying liturgical structures were a novelty introduced once the Church became intertwined with the Roman state. It is often assumed by Evangelicals that the earliest Christians worshipped in styles akin to contemporary Evangelical forms with the “pure” Christian worship of the early period sacrificed as the cost of imperial favor.

However, when we investigate the actual witness of the Christians of this early period, something else entirely emerges. The forms of Christian worship in the pre-Constantinian period are very similar to that which followed Constantine’s reign. Certainly they were likely done in far grander style with the royal coffers and magnficent buildings suddenly available for Christian use. Majestic liturgies used by the Church in its worship were composed by such notables as Basil the Great and John Chrysostom in the East and Gregory the Great in the West. Yet the basic structure of these liturgies did not differ markedly from what preceded it centuries earlier. The Church continued to worship as it always had but in more stately fashion.

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It is often argued that the historical liturgical structure of the Church with its weekly Eucharist is itself a distortion that places undue emphasis on ceremony at the expense of the centrality of Holy Scripture. The problem with this view is it assumes the worship inferred in Holy Scripture is itself circular and only pointing back to itself rather than to Christ. The problem is that we have inherited a view of worship that is an outgrowth and a reaction to unfortunate developments occurring in the medieval world. It is these distortions which cause us to see Word and Sacrament as an “either/or” rather than a “both/and” undertaking where we are given a choice to emphasize one at the expense of the other rather than seeing both in support of the other.

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This post will begin a five-part series explaining why the weekly celebration of the Eucharist or Lord’s Supper should be part of Christian worship. This practice, taken from the earliest days of the Church, has fallen in observation throughout much of Protestantism and now is treated as an oddity if not ignored in many churches. Yet the New Testament and the witness of the early Church give an entirely different view of the matter than leads one to believe this overlooked status reflects a confused understanding of worship and an unintentional neglect of the instructions given by Jesus to the Church.

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There may be no more misunderstood word in the theological vocabulary as “liturgy”. For many, it conjures up images of candles and incense, vestments and formal prayers. Indeed, these may be elements associated with liturgy but they are not the substance of liturgy. In philosophical terms, they are accidental – the properties of particulars that are outwardly sensed but do not reveal their essence.

Liturgy derives from the Greek word leitourgia that is a reference to a public work (or work of the people). In Greco-Roman society, it might refer to the expenditures of a wealthy private citizen for the benefit of his city or, in a religious context, the work of an individual on behalf of a deity. It is a word that had been adapted by Greek speaking Jews to grasp the concept of the act of public worship – particular when dealing with the ritual aspects of Jewish life – and this use was carried on by the early Church. For example, in Acts 13.2, the word often translated as “minister” or “worship” is actually a form of leitourgia – the connection is even stronger since it mentions fasting which has a more formal ritual context within Judaism.

The list of those things the early Church followed in Acts mention both “the prayers” (rather than just the less formal “prayer”) – indicating the formal reciting of Scriptural prayers common in Jewish life – and “the breaking of bread” – an obvious reference to the Lord’s Supper. Breaking bread always had a ritual aspect within Near Eastern society as a sign of welcoming into one’s household and was always accompanied by a prayer of thanksgiving. The connection is made clear by the Lord’s giving thanks at the breaking of bread and the use of the term “Eucharist” (derived from the Greek for “thanksgiving”) by the early Church to describe the feast.

Thus liturgy is not to be seen merely as a set of rubrics one agrees upon during a worship service but as the external signs that guide us to an ordered life in union with our fellow believers in the service of God. Certain elements may be more or less formal, they may occur at a grand cathedral or a humble country church, but these all give both reminders and substance to the idea of having a role in Christ’s body. In liturgy, we discipline ourselves to worship God with our entire being – not just our intellect or our emotions.

The neglect of such discipline is often a first step towards a faith based upon pure gnosis. Often accompanied by an arid legalism, it ignores the implications of the Incarnation by fostering dualist tendencies that deaden the senses and limit Christ’s redemption to a purely intellectual enterprise. It is not surprising that one outgrowth of this unhealthy dualism was to favor the other extreme in encouraging all manner of emotional and physical manifestations devoid of any sense of discipline and order.

The Church has always understood the importance of correct worship and adapted the order of Jewish liturgical practice for Christian ends. There is a time of preparation at the beginning where we ask the Lord for mercy and guidance. Readings from the Old Testament, Psalms, Epistles, and the Gospels are given and the Word is then preached. Having heard both our culpability under the Law and the forgiveness in Christ given by the Gospel, we offer prayers, confess our sins, ask forgiveness, and receive the declaration of absolution in Christ. The Liturgy of the Word then ends with the Creed wherein we proclaim the truth of the God we serve.

Then the Church begins the celebration of the Eucharist. There are probably as many theories of what happens as there are churches but the Church has taught from the very first that we are united with our Lord though grace in the Sacrament. Theories of a “mere symbolism” employ modern concepts of the term “symbol” that have no place in the ancient world. There is no doubt in either Scripture or the early Church Fathers that the Sacrament was identified with the body and blood of the Lord.

The arguments against the Real Presence are uniformly weak. It is often pointed out that Jesus often used metaphors for describing Himself such as a vine, a door, etc. Yet the description in the Last Supper fails any test of a metaphor. Metaphorical expressions point to indefinite objects that are used to embody a trait of the particular. Thus a hypothetical vine and branches are used to describe the connection between Jesus and His Church. But the institution of the Last Supper shows Jesus pointing to specific instances of the object and not generalizations. He does not state “My body is bread.” (in a generality) but “THIS (bread) is my body.” Similarly, He does not point to a general category of wine but a specific cup. The particular cases of the elements in the context of the Passover feast and His coming sacrifice on the cross testify to the mystery brought forth in the Sacrament.

This mystery is attested to by Paul (I Corinthians 11:17-33) who declares that when we partake we are “proclaiming the Lord’s death until He comes again”. In this way, we see the Eucharist as placing us before the cross of Christ and the sacrifice of His body and the shedding of His blood. He warns the Church against “profaning the body and blood of the Lord” and that partaking in an unworthy manner would be eating and drinking condemnation upon ourselves even unto physical death. Does this sound like a mere symbol? Moreover, if the improper partaking of the Sacrament could be so injurious then does it not seem that the proper acceptance would be nourishing to the Christian’s spiritual well being?

Christians have always understood the connection between the Passover, the Eucharist, and the Cross. In Hebrews, we see that the New Covenant casts aside the types and shadows and gives us a foretaste of eternity. Unlike the old sacrifices that had no power aside from their pointing to the promise of Christ and each required new blood, the new covenant has Christ’s once for all sacrifice that each Eucharist makes present.

Jesus is our High Priest of the order of Melchizadek. This is a reference to Genesis 14:18-20) where Melchizadek was both a king and a priest of God whose name meant “King of Righteousness” and whose title as King of Salem means “King of Peace”. He also is mentioned in the messianic prophecy (Psalm 110:4) to which Hebrews refers. The order is the covenantal form and its corresponding liturgical actions. This is shown as Melchizadek blesses Abraham and through a ritual offering of bread and wine (indicated by Abraham’s response with a tithe of his possessions). Just as the type arrives to bless Abraham through bread and wine, the fulfillment comes to us and blesses us through the bread and wine of the Eucharist. And just as Abraham responded by presenting his offering, we the spiritual children of Abraham are to respond by presenting ourselves as a holy and living sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is our spiritual service (leitourgos) in worship (Romans 12:1).

The fullness of the liturgy of the Eucharist is seen most clearly in the unfolding of the heavenly vision in the Book of Revelation. Many Evangelicals have a notoriously difficult time in understanding this book because the underlying references are foreign to them. It is best seen as a prophetic vision symbolized in the language of a heavenly liturgy with its rich sacrificial images and rich form. The Church has recognized this connection and the hymn of the angels given in the Sanctus (Holy, Holy, Holy) which is sung as the Church Militant is joined with the Church Triumphant and all the heavenly hosts and adds its voice to this song of praise. After the distribution of the Sacrament, prayers of thanksgiving are made and the Church is dismissed to carry on its mission.

One might note that I have not specified any but the basic details above. Indeed, there need not be an exact script in liturgy. The important point is respecting the order given in God’s Word within our worship. The particular points may be more or less formal, use more or less rubrics, and be more or less scripted. The key elements are the basic form that shows Law and Gospel and allows God’s grace to proceed through its normal means of Word and Sacrament. Liturgy is less about creating a style of worship that it is about not getting in the way of God. It is the way the Church protects its worship from its members.

A proper Christian liturgy must have Scripture, prayer (whether spoken or sung in hymns), the confession of sin, the acceptance of forgiveness, a basic statement of belief, and the Eucharist. Many churches have forsaken many of these points – particularly the last – as if Jesus’ command to “do this” were not clear enough.

Some would object too the ancient practice of the Church with its overt Christian symbolism as troubling to newcomers and suggest a more “seeker-friendly” style as an alternative. Others believe that a style more attractive to contemporary sensibilities and sensitive to their needs is necessary to build the Church. Both of these claims are misguided and reflect the self-centeredness and lack of understanding of the true purpose of worship.

The first of these objections misunderstands the entire purpose of worship. A style of worship geared to encourage the unchurched to attend can only do so by being something other than the Church. The truth of sin and our need for Christ as Savior will by its nature trouble those outside the Church; but through this challenge true conversion is made as His flock will hear His voice. Moreover, such a form of worship must invariably focus on the shallow, avoid the challenges the Gospel presents to a dying world, and forces the Church to abandon its history and its calling.

The second objection again misses the true purpose of worship by forcing worship to conform to rather than challenge the culture. This does not mean we cannot adapt what is good in the culture for our own ends – the Church has done so with various styles of music and with the philosophical discourse of classical thought. However, such adaptation must be done with discernment and not accepted wholesale.

For example, the Church Fathers saw in such philosophers as Plato, Aristotle, and Plotinus an acceptance of the spiritual, a confirmation of absolutes, and a movement toward a single cause of the universe. They applauded these philosophers’ movement towards monotheism and adapted their metaphysical terminology for Christian ends but did not hesitate to deny less compatible elements of their philosophy and rejected wholesale the philosophical systems of others that were based upon materialism.

The problem is that much of modern and postmodern thought is so thoroughly naturalistic that it is inconceivable how one could possibly do justice to the Christian message. And with postmodernism’s denial of absolutes, one wonders what could be made of a Christ that proclaims Himself “the way, the truth, and the life.” Furthermore, the milieu of contemporary popular culture is so engrossed in the trivial and mundane and so geared to the empowerment of the individual and the fulfillment of his felt needs, there is little place for self-denial, sacrifice, and the subsuming of one’s will to the Body of Christ.

Even more disturbing in both objections is an underlying acceptance of the contemporary zeitgeist. The root of both is that the central focus of worship is man and not God. When we gear our worship to be “seeker friendly” or conform it to popular style, we are creating something to please ourselves and not God. The Holy Scriptures and the unbroken tradition of the Church have made it abundantly clear the basic template for the worship of the Church. It can be adapted in its inessential elements to reflect the local notions of reverence and awe, but these qualities are the proper way to approach the presence of the Most High – not the shallowness and triviality of so much of what passes as contemporary style.

Man is not the center of worship – this position belongs to God alone. Nor is the wish fulfillment of man to have a tranquil life a key ingredient. It is the preparation to go out into the world and fulfill His will for our lives that should bring us to Him. Worship is not a place to hear practical applications to lead lives of comfort nor is it a tool for evangelization. Worship is the gathering of God’s people to give thanks to Him and to receive His blessing by the means He has given them. Rather than an entertainment outlet or seminar on positive thinking, it is better understood as a hospital where sinners are called to their Lord and are nourished by His grace in both Word and Sacrament until they pass on to eternity.

In worship, we confess our sins not because we are afraid He will not forgive them but because He has promised He will. We listen to His Word not because we can’t read it at home but because we can never hear enough of it. We receive the Eucharist not because we are hungry for symbols but because He has promised He would give us Himself in these symbols.

Christ calls the Church His body, He states He is there when two or more are gathered in His name, and promises the gates of hell will not prevail against us. He makes no such promise for each of us on our own. The Groom shall come for His bride – not an informal gathering of like minded individuals. The Church has been called to worship in a manner that reflects the order of creation. Worship has an order to reflect God’s purpose and this order is fulfilled in the liturgy.

In the last few years, I have reread some of the work of Protestant apologist Francis Schaeffer. My reasons for returning to him after many years were varied: he is one of the most influential Christian thinkers of the late twentieth century, there is a reverence given him by many Evangelical Christians cognizant that he is as close as Evangelicalism has come to a “doctor of the church”, and the recent attention his son and namesake had garnered by allegedly sullying his reputation in a series of books. For good or ill, much of what occurred within Evangelicalism in the last few decades of the twentieth century had its theoretical foundations in his writings. Schaeffer was to the religious right what William F. Buckley was to the political right: a man who arose at the movement’s lowest public profile and supplied an intellectual framework with which to categorize the ills of the modern world.

Although Schaeffer is remembered as the philosopher of the religious right, he was often ambivalent to those who used his thoughts to steer an Evangelical vision of public polity. His concern for reaching a new generation with the Gospel, his hope that engaging the modern world bring it to its senses, and his love for higher culture would be lost on those who saw God’s hand guiding unbridled greed. Just as C. S. Lewis’ smoking, drinking, love of literature, and Anglicanism were ignored in the construction of an Evangelical hagiography, so Schaeffer’s Christian humanism and Reformed theology were ignored by Christian conservatives of the Reagan era in the making of his legend.

A key to understanding Schaeffer is that his theology derived from a the form of Protestantism that held sway in America until the early twentieth century and not its more recent manifestations. Rooted in a Puritan vision of the place of America and the duty of Christians to spread the Gospel and build the shining city upon a hill, this Protestant consensus constructed a vast network of missionary and social welfare organizations designed to create a perfect Christian society that would then spread across the globe. As sincere as they were in their endeavors, these nineteenth century Christians and the later inheriters of their ideas who lionized their efforts did not recognize the entire project was rooted in a modernist vision of culture. Both the secularists of the post-Englightement era and the Christians of the same period believed in the while the former sought to eliminate Christ from culture entirely.

Thus a misplaced confidence in progress as a social force was as much a part of the modern Christian vision as its secular counterpart. In America, the two were interchangeable as Christians viewed their role in terms of a manifest destiny. Even the philosophical determinism of modernist secular thought had its own counterpart in a Calvinist theology that had absorbed mechanistic and even dualistic tendencies that eroded the sacramental richness of Calvin’s own theology and reduced it to a five-point soteriological acronym.

Even the high place for science that is so characteristic of modernism was reflected in a “scientific” approach to the Bible. This view saw Holy Scripture as a source of data to be mined as one would with nature in scientific experiments. This data was then categorized and fashioned into propositional statements to answer any conceivable question on the faith. The problem with this approach is its complete misapplication of method. Scientific experimentation is based on the assumption that the field of discourse is the same at all times and places. That is, the laws of nature are constant and the scientist may be seen as a neutral observer. The problem applying this methodology to Holy Scripture is that the words of the texts presuppose a cultural, historical, and cultic context that is radically different from the observer and any assumption of the observers’ assumed norms introduces an anachronistic contamination by contemporary contexts.

This cultural vision began to unravel in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century by a combination of forces. Primary among them is that the very certainty the approach assured was based upon assuming its conclusions. The determinism at its core proved to be a two edged sword as what some saw as testimony to God’s sovereignty others saw as pointing to God’s dispensability. When one adds the controversy over Darwinian evolution, the rise of theological liberalism, and the undermining of the Newtonian physics that had supplied confidence in their world view, one could see fault lines beginning to appear. The sterility of this theology fostered a need for a faith that acknowledged the composite nature of mankind and a more experiential faith took root. Add in the huge losses of life from both World War I and the influenza pandemic and a change in outlook from the utopian belief in progress was inevitable.

American Protestantism would split with the mainline churches veering towards liberalism and new churches formed with more conservative beliefs. The followers of the older consensus were initially leaders of the newer conservative churches and led the movement that published The Fundamentals (from which fundamentalism gets its name). However, this group soon found themselves outnumbered by newer conservative theologies with a far more populist. This younger generation took a far more pessimistic tone, chose to separate themselves from the culture rather than challenge it, and embraced such novel doctrines as dispensationalist eschatology that mirrored their gloomy outlook. While conservative Calvinism never would fade away completely, they found themselves a dwindling force in what became American Evangelicalism.

It would be in this Calvinist remnant that Francis Schaeffer found his theological home. He attended Westminster Theological Seminary under the tutelage of both Cornelius Van Til and J. Gresham Machen and their influence can be seen in much of his theology. Both were fierce opponents of liberalism and Schaeffer’s own arguments echo his mentors. Perhaps the difference is that Schaeffer was far more practical in his approach and he geared his attacks on liberalism to reaching a lost generation. However, much of his thinking seems to argue that we would solve the crisis in culture by returning to the earlier Protestant consensus without recognizing the inextricable links in modernism between this older consensus and the crises that followed.

However, none of his theoretical misstepts mattered much when Francis Schaeffer first burst onto the Evangelical stage in the late 1960’s. By then, things had changed drastically since the turn of the century. Far from the cerebral approach of the past, conservative Protestantism was largely characterized by an intellectual sloth that frustrated young Evangelicals. When his early books were published, these young Evangelicals saw in Schaeffer someone who spoke to their dissatisfaction with both secularism and the current state of Evangelicalism.

In Schaeffer, young Evangelicals had found a champion who could take on the larger culture and explain its current malaise as a retreat from the categories provided by the Christian faith. Far from suggesting a withdrawal into a fundamentalist ghetto, Schaeffer issued a clarion call for Christians to join the war raging between two diametrically opposed worldviews with the souls of men as the battlefield. A new generation of Evangelicals gleefully repented of their intellectual shallowness and embraced Schaeffer’s appeals to think and act as a Christian. Their exhilaration was quite palpable as for the first time they believed they could see all the pieces of the cultural puzzle put together in a consistent Christian apologia. Instead of an isolated issue approach, Schaeffer’s writings provided an extensive critique of philosophy, art, music, science, and almost any other topic with cultural impact. More importantly, he provided an intellectual framework for Evangelicals to categorize their conflict with the secular world.

Yet as convincing as Schaeffer was to many Evangelicals, he was not so admired outside the Evangelical fold. It can be argued that we should expect the world to reject Christian thinkers and certainly some of the animosity thrown his way was related to his uncompromizing zeal for the faith. However, other criticisms were due to his mischaracterizations of the philosophers, musicians, and artists who did not meet with his approval – including those of other Christian traditions. For example, his comments on the views of Aquinas reveal that he could not have read much by the great theologian as he makes numerous accusations that are demonstrably false. This overt hostility to other Christian traditions often closed him to great contributions to the Chritstian intellectual patrimony.

My own first experience reading Schaeffer was far less than satisfying. This was not long after I had read Coppleston’s epic History of Philosophy and this had sparked my own interest in reading the sources firsthand. With some background in the material, I quickly became frustrated by Schaeffer’s numerous gaffes and poorly reasoned generalizations and wrote him off completely as out of touch with the major currents in Western thought.

In later years, my view has softened somewhat. I have come to appreciate the testimony of so many Christians who were introduced to the idea of critical thining by his writings. While many realize his errors, they are appreciative that he awakened them to the life of the mind and showed one could be a thinking Christian. He also earns admiration and repect for his work in the trenches at L’Abri and elsewhere and his desire to reach a generation most Christians had written off as lost. It is the Francis Schaeffer who shared his faith with love and zeal – and not the cultural critic who often stumbled in his evaluations – that is best remembered.

Yet, even this more sympathetic view of Schaeffer’s impact still raises the question of his legacy. After all, his impact on Evangelicalism has largely been through his writings and not his personal witness. Thus, while conceding his importance to the history of Evangelicalism and also acknowledging his desire to bring sinners to a saving knowledge of the risen Lord, we must come to grips with his overall impact. In particular, has the vision he provided helped or hindered Evangelicalism? The answer to this question is as perplexing as Schaeffer himself.

Perhaps it is best to say that Schaeffer had the best impact on those he introduced to the intellectual life and the worst on those who never went beyond his simplistic analyses. Prior to Schaeffer, Evangelicals had retreated inward and were rarely involved in standing against the culture on issues such as abortion. Many of those he introduced to such concerns would go on to build bridges with other Christians to form a united front against the “culture of death.” Yet at the same time as his writings inspired many to take heroic stands, others were led by his sloganeering to become part of a new power politics as he became the intellectual mentor for the “religious right” and its confusion of American interests with divine mandates.

Much of this confusion around Schaeffer’s ideas arose because Schaeffer misunderstood many of those he was critiquing. His analysis of such thinkers as Aquinas, Hegel, and Kierkegaard are often little more than straw man caricatures to be toppled. For example, his attempt to paint Aquinas as the founder of an autonomous humanism is not only ridiculous on its own merits but avoids the obvious connection between the autonomous individual and the Protestantism he supports. It becomes clear very quickly that his views can be reduced to the proposition that anything not connected to the culture produced by the Reformation – before or after – is bad and that only Reformation era culture can produce a proper Christian worldview.

Such a presupposition ignores the fact tha Christian culture long flourished without the cultural categories Schaeffer finds imperative. Moreover, he has a highly romantic view of the Protestant past that ignores its attachment to modernistic assumptions if not to modernism itself. Seeing in any phase of the Church a pristine state that had neither precedent nor consequence is based on a very poor understanding of history. In Schaeffer’s case, the beliefs inherited from an earlier cultural consensus rooted in modernism show forth in easily refuted presuppositions.

It is unfortunate that so key a figure should be so thoroughly misinformed on so many subjects. One cannot write if off as mere hyperbole. There have been many well-known critiques of modernism such as Russell Kirk, C. S. Lewis, Richard M. Weaver, G. K. Chesterton, and others that had been known to stretch a point on occasion. However, each of these men had actually understood the worldview of those they were critiquing. One can only conclude that Schaeffer never seriously interacted with opposing views outside the framework he had inhertied from his mentors.

Overall, Schaeffer’s role as a pivotal figure in the history of Evangelicalism cannot be denied. To his credit, he encouraged many Evangelicals to leave their self-imposed separation and engage the culture. Many have used his writings as a launching pad to an analysis more consistent with the history of the West. However, the more negative effects of his legacy such as a Protestant triumphalism that distorted the views of those who did not share his Protestant outlook had some lasting repercussions within conservative Protestant thinking. At his best, he pointed Christians to the life of the mind; at his worst he presented a misinformed outlook of what that life might be.

Genesis begins with the earth void and without form and God bringing order out of chaos. Unlike many of the pagan representations of creation that had chaos and conflict at their core, the story of Scripture sees the story of mankind beginning with the formation of order from a preexisting chaos. This order is not just one of cosmological properties but affects every aspect of creation: time, space, matter, and man himself are all to reflect the order that reveals the very mind of God. At each stage of the creation story, God declared “It is good” in response to the despair of pagans who had conceded themselves to the fickle hands of Gods who were as chaotic as their own souls.

In God’s revelation to man in Holy Scripture, man reintroduces chaos into the world through the rejection of His creative order by claiming a place that was not theirs that and causing the fall. It was not the ends with which man was tempted, to be like God, that was the issue as God would have rewarded man with full communion with the divine and offers this again through Jesus Christ. Rather, it was man’s desire to attain divine status apart from God and replace God at the center of creation that caused the fall and exiled us from union with God until the coming of Christ into the world.

It is a testimony to God’s love for His creation that He did not withdraw His sustaining power and allow the universe to cease – but it is also a reflection of His plan that He will not impose His order upon us through brute force. We are saved through grace and in His grace we come to understand His order of creation – however imperfectly on this side of eternity. This grace will aid us through the trials of this life and sustain us until we attain the bliss of the life to come. Yet even in this fallen state, the world still reflects some of the perfection of God’s plan and we can comprehend, however imperfectly, an order in creation.

This order of creation reflects, however imperfectly, the order within the Holy Trinity. Although all three persons are fully divine and worshipped, it is from the Father that the Son is eternally begotten and the Holy Spirit eternally proceeds. The Son has witnessed to us the complete obedience to the will of His Father that is our calling. Unable from the fall to meet this end, the Father has through His grace sent the Holy Spirt so we may come to the Him through His Son Jesus Christ who becamne Incarnate, dwelt among us, lived in perfect obedience to the Father’s will, was crucified, resurrected, and ascended back to the Father’s right hand from which He will come again in glory at the end of days.

Just as the creation was brought to order in stages, so God’s revelation to us of the restoration of order came in stages. Glimpses of God’s plan were given through promises made throughout the Old Testament pointing to the final fulfillment in Jesus Christ. And just as God’s will was reflected by those who followed the types of Christ in their respect of order in both leadership and manner of worship, so such an order is to be reflected in Christ’s Church.

This submission to ecclesial and liturgical order is not to be understood as a license for those in positions of leadership to invent new and fanciful doctrines and services. Nor does respect of leadership permit those under another’s care to be absolved of responsibility for following heretical beliefs and practices under the guise of submission. The Church is to constantly test what is being taught by that which has been handed down in Holy Scripture as understood by the Church throughout its existence. Those placed in leadership are to be in submission to the teaching of Christ and the Apostles and to remain consistent with Church teaching.

While some degree of novelty may be permissible in the explanation of existing beliefs or a development of an existing doctrine that clarifies its content, contradictions of that already revealed only introduces disorder into the Church. Similarly, schism on those matters not deemed by the Church as essential to her doctrine or on matters not yet clearly defined by the Church is to be avoided. Unity is to be maintained in essentials with tolerance on other matters.

The very idea of respecting leadership is out of step both with the modern notion of democratic rule and the postmodern emphasis on the subjective judgment of the individual. Instead, the Church maintains its essence by the strict preservation of its traditional teachings through its consistent interpretation of Holy Scripture, the creeds and definitions of its councils, and the practice preserved in its liturgical traditions. It is a great irony that those who clamor the loudest for freedom in the Church are the first ones to mute the Word of God and deny a voice to those of the Church triumphant who now have their abode with Him. It is through Holy Scripture that we hear God speaking to us and through the Church’s tradition that we give voice to Christians on the other side of glory who have traveled the narrow road.

Those who claim the Church was not hierarchal from its inception must do so on the basis of something other than the words of Holy Scripture. Just as God’s own nature is the hierarchy of the Trinity, so God’s people are ordered in their existence. There are fathers who have leadership over their families, rulers have leadership over their subjects, and so we should expect the same to occur in the Church. The Church universal is the bride of Christ and subject to His leadership. So each individual church would be given leadership that would both preserve true doctrine and the unity of the Church universal.

This divinely ordained role of leadership should neither be seen as permitting despotism nor requiring blind obedience in any of its manifestations. Leadership is to reflect the perfect love of God the Father for mankind and Christ for His bride the Church. Families should not be expected to suffer silently the horrors of an abusive husband and father, nations cannot be blamed for ridding themselves of a despotic tyrant, and churches are not required to follow heretical and apostate leadership into their sins. However, abuses of order do not permit the introduction of more disorder but rather the best path ahead within God’s plan.

In the particular case of the Church, the ongoing role of leadership is presaged from the very beginnings of Christ’s ministry on earth. From among His followers He chose special roles for the seventy and then the twelve. Even among the twelve there was an inner circle of Peter, James, and John who were often taken by the Lord aside at key points in His ministry. Every list of the twelve would include Peter at the head and Judas last – reflecting the Church’s own judgment of their standing. It was with the Apostles that Jesus instituted the Eucharistic celebration, gave the power to bind and loose sins, and gave the Great Commission.

This use of leadership did not cease after Christ ascended. The first act of the Church after Christ’s ascension was to go into prayer and from this they discerned it was necessary to fill the role left vacant by Judas’ betrayal and death. Leadership was exercised by the Apostles throughout the Church’s early years as shown clearly by the deference given to them by other Christians, their role in ordaining leadership for the Church, and their assuming the role of ruling on the matter of the mission to the gentiles.

When Paul asserted his role as an apostle, his claim would not rest solely on the revelation he received from Christ but also upon the apostles’ confirmation of this mission and his leadership role. He would then instruct younger leaders like Timothy to go to the local churches and ordain elders in his role of leadership for the Church universal. Rather than being an individualist, at every step in his ministry he submitted himself to the authority of the Church, held fast to her teaching, and instructed others to do the same.

The eventual evolution of the Church into an Episcopal form of government is not the departure that many would assert. The primary call of the Apostles was the Great Commission and to shepherd the Church through its formative phase. As a local Church would become established, it applied the model common to the Jews of the time: a concilliar government of elders overseen by a presiding office. For example, in the synagogue the rabbi was deferred to but not in a slavish manner and elders would be consulted in matters of importance. This model would serve the Church as it had its own overseers in bishops and its own set of elders as well as deacons to assist the bishop in his functions.

We see the model first applied in Jerusalem. When the Apostles left for Antioch, James the Just assumed the leadership in Jerusalem together with the elders there. As the Apostles dispersed from Antioch, it was Ignatius who would take the role of bishop and Polycarp would do the same in Smyrna. With the spread of the Church, existing local churches would reach maturity at different times and eventually have their own bishops.

It is not to be assumed that the role of the bishop would be the same in every place. Much would depend on the state of the local church, the particular situation the church found itself in at each location, and the personal qualities of the bishop himself. A bishop in one place might wield great authority while in another might be more as the presiding elder. The position itself became a sign of unity as these men – chosen to lead by the Apostles and those directly under their supervision – would be seen as a bulwark against the fledgling heretical movements that were assuming the name “Christian” for themselves.

Claims that a monarchial structure was imposed on the Church are an anachronistic imposition of later ideas. The role of the bishop was not that of singular rule but as a shepherd who would lead the Church in her liturgy and represent the unity of the Church universal in her belief and practice. We should see in Ignatius’ plea to do all things through the bishop a similarity to the Jewish maxim “nothing gets done without the rebbe” rather than the development of an ecclesial lord. It is a respect for order and not the surrender to monarchy that is reflected in the respect given to the episcopate. Later post-Apostolic offices such as those of metropolitan (archbishop) and patriarch were not essential to the Church and were primarily for administering the growing number of local churches.

As the Apostles passed away, the leadership of the Church passed to the bishops and the presbyters under their direction. The spread of Christianity was now supported by local churches at the edge of the current expansion sending missionaries and the churches they planted would remain under the care of the sponsoring Church until self-sufficient. In this way, the Great Commission continued and the Church spread throughout Europe, Asia, and North Africa.

The error that would creep into the Church through its blending with the Roman state was not the leadership of bishops – that has long been the practice of the Church – but a gradual change in the episcopal office to a civil rank with privileges and responsibilities that clouded (though it did not obliterate) its true meaning as an iconic reflection of God’s creative order manifested in the Church.

This error was compounded in Protestantism with its denial (in varying degrees) of Church tradition and its emphasis on the functions of the Church. In place of a view of the Church as developing from that of the Apostles, there was an attempt to restrict the Church to its own imagined vision of apostolic purity. Thus the bishop’s role was dispensed with or considered inessential while the presbyterial role was eventually reduced to its functions: preaching the Word, administering the sacraments, exercising church discipline.

Modern American Evangelicalism has merely added to the confusion by taking the functional model to its ultimate end. Once the philosophical foundations of ministry had been altered to reflect utilitarian ends, the emphasis shifted from the revealed will of God to the felt needs of man. Thus the initial functions, which at least had Scriptural warrant, were gradually replaced by those that would meet the goals of church leadership: intellectual respectability, congregational growth, and even the theological aberrations of the pastor.

In the new postmodern forms of churches now “emerging”, the very idea of leadership is rapidly being discarded. The functions of ministry, so long in flux, have now been matched in their amorphousness by the ministerial roles as members of the congregation are seen as more or less interchangeable parts. Duties once believed to be reserved to the clergy are now allotted to various members of the congregation as they so desire. This dispenses the model of the Church as Christ’s body with its members in defined roles acting together under the power of the Holy Spirit to that of an ecclesiological Lego set where roles may be changed at whim and the gifts allotted to some need not be confirmed nor anointed by any standard but one’s own.

The effect on the Church of this evolution in its understanding of leadership has been devastating. The medieval assertion of the bishopric as a political entity would lead not only to corruption and the rise of anti-clericalism but also the loss of contact between the shepherd and his flock. The reforms of Protestantism would combat this evil but at the cost of further distorting the role of the Christian clergy.

As an example of the distortions that can take place, consider the issue of the ordination of women. If the role of ministry is purely functional, then there is no good reason to deny women such a role if they can perform the functions as well or better than their male counterparts. But if the role is that of an iconic representation of God’s determined order, then we see that the natural patriarchy that is revealed by God Himself is to be reflected in the Church’s own life. The role of a shepherd is to act as a spiritual father and to reflect the love of God the Father. The role of the celebrant of the Eucharist is to be an iconic representation of Christ the High Priest and Victim and this is revealed as by necessity male in both its essence and its typological representations. Similarly, headship of the family is given to the father and he is to be a representative of both God the Father in caring for his children and Christ in his love for his bride.

The idea of order is not only shown in the leadership of the Church but also in its worship. Here the concept of liturgy is seen as reflecting the very order of God through the Church’s worship. While no specific prayers are divinely mandated, the twin pillars of the Word and the Sacraments form the outline of Christian worship from the earliest days of the Church. Books of the New Testament that often cause confusion (e.g., Hebrews, Revelation) are much clearer when interpreted in this context. Indeed, much of the liturgy of the Church is taken directly from the very words of Holy Scripture or contains a reference to them.

The movement away from this divine order in worship distorts the Gospel to the point where it could be easily misunderstood for something it is not. An emphasis on the Sacraments minus the Word (as in medieval Catholicism) or the Word minus the Sacraments (as in modern Evangelicalism) again distorts God’s order. We are composite beings and God comes to redeem us in our entirety. Thus salvation has both physical and spiritual components that reflect the order of creation.

The physical without the spiritual can evolve into a form of crass works righteousness. The spiritual without the physical can evolve into a form of semi-gnosticism. Both are distortions of the Gospel and both are violations of God’s order. Only in the reform of such practices into conformity with true Christian teaching can abuses be curtailed and the true faith of the Church thrive.

It is in the faith of the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church that we have a balanced understanding of God’s order and its reflection in our corporate life as the people of God. Under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the meditation upon the truths revealed in Scripture led the Church to develop its doctrine – sometimes kicking and screaming along the way – to point to the revealed truths of God’s order. The prayer of our Lord – that we may be one as He and the Father are one – can only be fully realized when we put aside our personal agendas and return to the order declared by God Himself.