Everyone in the world thinks he understands. That is what it means to think. In order to think, you have to think something. And whatever it is that you think, that is what you think.
So if you are in the grip of an error, you do not understand that error. If you did, you wouldn’t be in error. Who can understand his errors? When Scripture poses this question, it poses a profound question.
Understanding error, and understanding the truth that stands opposite must therefore be a gift of God. Apart from grace, there is no way to comprehend what is happening in the culture around us, in the church at large, in our own congregation, in our own families, or in our own hearts. But when God’s grace is poured out, the people are woven together in likemindedness, and the people have a mind to work.
The task of the church is the evangelization of the world, and to bring that converted world up to maturity in Christ. The task of the local church is to do its part in that global task in its part of the world. Notice how the apostle Paul described his mission. “Whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus” (Col. 1:28). If the point of the world is for humanity to grow up into the perfect man, then the point of every part of the world is to grow up into its portion of that perfect man. Global evangelization is therefore the sum total of the faithful labor of local churches. The global community will not be evangelized by the global church—it will be brought to Christ by the ministries of local churches.
And this means that local churches must think of their mission differently. We are not here to gather a tiny portion of the population in order that we might take a small splinter of humanity off to Heaven. No, we want to bring Heaven here. In line with how we pray in the Lord’s Prayer, we want His kingdom to come, not go. We want His will to be done here as it is already done in Heaven.
The task of the church here on the Palouse is therefore birth and growth. We are called to be constantly engaged in the evangelism of unbelievers, and once they have been converted and baptized, we want them to grow up to maturity in Christ. Our task is not that of isolation and containment. Now in order to bring the Palouse to Christ, it should be obvious that we are going to need something that human beings need for everything else that they do—we are going to need buildings. And if we are going to need buildings, it is self-evident that we are going to have to build them. But in the building of them, we must take care that we not become distracted by them. They are a resource to be used and expended in fulfillment of the mission—birth and growth. So let the stones cry out.
When Nehemiah heard about the desolate state of the ruined city of Jerusalem, he was greatly humbled, and he cried out to the Lord in true confession of sin. “We have dealt very corruptly against thee, and have not kept the commandments, nor the statutes, nor the judgments, which thou commandedst thy servant Moses.” (Neh. 1:7). This was the man who was to rebuild that city, and so he began by clearing the spiritual ground—he began with confession of sin.
James tells us that if we sin at just one point of the law, we are guilty of offending against all of it. This is because the law is simply a description of what the triune personal God is like, and so an offense against Him at this point or at that point is still, at the end of the day, an offense against Him. If a man were to strike another man, whether the blow falls on his right cheek or his left, the blow has still fallen on the man.
Now the point of our sanctification is to become like God. That is where we are going. If we forget this, as professing Christians, what happens is that we find ourselves keeping a bunch of detached rules, and forgetting what the person behind all the rules is actually like. What He is like is love, kindness, overflow, and everlasting generosity. The detached rules may be fine in themselves, but when we do this they are radically out of context. By keeping just some of the rules we got from God, we do it in such a way as to sin against God.
When we seek to accumulate enough money to build the sanctuary we are pursuing, we need to accumulate it through generosity, not through hoarding. A church is a conduit for ministry, and it is—in line with the character of God—a replicating ministry. This means that we must be constantly putting seed in the ground. “Now he that ministereth seed to the sower both minister bread for your food, and multiply your seed sown, and increase the fruits of your righteousness;) Being enriched in every thing to all bountifulness, which causeth through us thanksgiving to God” (2 Cor. 9:10–11). That is what we are after.
A church building is a staging area, designed for God’s people to use in fulfilling the mission. The mission is the evangelization of the world—for the universal church—and the evangelization of our locale, for the local church. As a staging area, we have to be able to see past it. Marshaling and assembling the troops is not the same thing as sending them out to battle.
This means that if we build our building, and within a year or so it is not big enough to contain us all, that is not a sign of poor planning. It is a sign to us that we are beginning to accomplish the mission. Our goal should not be to have a sanctuary big enough to hold us all, so that we might then settle into our long, slow glide plane into cultural irrelevance.
We have noted that a church building is architectural speech. But in order to speak truly as a church, it needs to speak gospel.
Made out of brick, and steel, and wood, and so forth, the architectural vocabulary is limited when it comes to doctrines like propitiation, substitutionary atonement, and so on. The task with such is to avoid speaking of a false propitiation, by building an altar instead of a table, for example. But there is one doctrine of the gospel which architecture can declare very plainly, and without ambiguity.
A church building is architectural speech, and so if it is to be a Christian church building it needs to be the gospel in stone. Obviously, it cannot be as specific and defined as a sermon can be, and it does not have symbolic meanings assigned to it by Scripture, as the elements of the sacraments do—water, bread, and wine. But everything in this world speaks, and so we have to take care to speak the truth.
The first step in speaking the truth is to avoid lies, above all, lies that we might want to speak to ourselves. The apostle John says that if we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. This means that a church building needs to declare the glory of God, without veering into the pride of man. The building must not be a monument to ourselves. It must not say, or imply, that we “have no sin.”
The apostle Paul tells Timothy to “fight the good fight of faith.” He tells him in the next breath to “lay hold on eternal life.” In Ephesians, we are told that our battle is not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers. The language of Scripture concerning our pilgrimage here on earth is frequently martial language. It is agonistic.
Our sanctuary, when built, is a sanctuary to be used by the church militant. We are not yet in glory, although we ascend to glory every week to worship with the church universal. Nevertheless, we are bi-locational. Paul wrote to the Ephesian church, which was, obviously, in Ephesus. But they were also in Christ, in the heavenlies. They were located both on earth and in heaven.