If a Church Had Nothing Else
What if a church began its vision for what it ought to have by asking what the Bible says it cannot do without? In other words, what if it measured its fruit by whether or not it truly grew from the roots? Or by checking to see if the roots are really there to begin with? This is not as simple as it may seem. There is the essential and there is the given. And what is essential is not necessarily what is given — if, that is, one insists on neglecting the essentials.
The Reformed tradition has spoken of marks of the true church, of which there are three: Word, sacrament, and discipline. And it has also used the language of “means of grace.” If the magisterial Reformers could have traveled through time down to our present day, and if they could hear us asking “What works?” They might just have to caution us by saying, “Hold on a minute — are you not skipping a step?” They knew that what worked the best are those things that must come before what merely “works.” It turns out that the most ordinary things of all — the things that the church has been doing for two thousand years — are the things that God has invested with the greatest power in any season of a church’s life.
The Westminster Shorter Catechism, Question 88 asks: “What are the outward and ordinary means whereby Christ communicateth to us the benefits of redemption?” Answer: The outward and ordinary means whereby Christ communicates to us the benefits of redemption, are his ordinances, especially the word, sacraments, and prayer; all which are made effectual to the elect for salvation.”
Reformed ministers have to believe this. At least one has to pretend to believe this when passing through seminary and when being examined for ordination. One would assume we should do better than mere pretensions. So what if we actually believed this? That would be my own recommendation.
I put it in this way to neutralize the charge that I am against vision and mission statements. Far from it. However it has been my observation that such statements in the past few generations have less to do with the New Testament vision and mission and more to do with American pragmatism and commercialized standards of ministry success.
But is it really true that Christ communicates to us the benefits of redemption through the word, sacraments, and prayer? And that in such a way as to be effectual to the elect for salvation? In that case, whatever else may be absent, the first thing I want to know is how to ensure that these are present!
Is There a Biblical Witness to the “Means of Grace” Idea?
If the Scriptures especially are a means of grace, then we would expect them to say so. But what passages speak in this way? As with any other doctrine, looking to the biblical basis for them involves doing theology on the concept level and not merely the word level. For example, it may be pointed out that the phrase “means of grace” is not in the Bible. We should be used to this by now from those many conversations we have had about the doctrines of the Trinity, or imputed righteousness, or a covenant of works. Whenever we are in such discussions with the naysayers — “Where is that in the Bible?” — we ought to point out that words like “monotheism” and “immaterial soul” and “afterlife” and “outer-space” and “rational bipedal carnivore” are not “in the Bible” either. That should make the point well enough for anyone reasonable enough to get such points. Others must be led by example over time.
Like those other extra-biblical labels, the term “means of grace” stands for a set of ideas that are indeed taught by the Bible. Once we have a working definition, we have a criteria of what sort of biblical ideas fit this mold. The means of grace are God’s ways of building us up in the faith. With such a simple definition, our search is ready to come into focus. Where does the Bible speak of such divinely appointed instruments performing this function in and for the church? We will ask this about those three main means that the Confession mentioned: the word, sacraments, and prayer.
Now, even after we make a decent case, it may be objected: “Isn’t love what Jesus called the main mark of the true church?” Indeed it was. But here we are comparing apples and oranges, as there Jesus spoke not of the marks in terms of structures or elements, but rather in terms of a spiritual fruit. And besides, have you not noticed that there are competing definitions of love on the market? Where will we find our true definition of love, but in God’s word? How should we cultivate it in ourselves but together and not by ourselves? There are other problems in the attempt to divorce the fruit of the Spirit from the form of that body we are baptized into by that one Spirit. We will have to see that as we go.
The Word as an Effectual Means of Grace
The ways that the Scripture is a means of grace vary. In the first place, it is the material cause of faith: “Faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Rom. 10:17); specifically in “the sacred writings, which are able to make you wise for salvation through faith in Christ Jesus” (2 Tim. 3:15). I say “material cause” here because of course these are physical writings. Our Bibles are material. But when we speak in this way, surely we are not suggesting that the ink patterns or the paper transfer themselves to us in a material way. On the pages of the inscripturated word of God, the truth in them is also a formal cause of the whole life of faith: “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth” (Jn. 17:17). The truth believed in what transforms the renewed mind (Rom. 12:2). Is it not the glory of Christ which transforms us into that same image (2 Cor. 3:18)? Yes, of course. And where do we find Christ as he is? In the Scriptures that testify to him (Jn. 5:39; Lk. 24:44).
So the relation of the Scriptures to the truth — in Aristotelian terms — is that between matter and form. And it is with that form and matter that the Spirit of God works the transformation of his saints. We need to keep pressing what we mean here. We can speak of the words as the “material.” The word is the power of God, but not in a way that bypasses the reflection of the intellect. So Paul told Timothy: “Think over what I say, for the Lord will give you understanding in everything” (2 Tim. 2:7). The words are for reading and memorizing, yes, but this only transforms us in the long run by thinking about their meaning.
Nor can the Scriptures be understood as truth in an atomistic fashion. We cannot be guilty of what Francis Schaeffer called “bits and pieces thinking.” To be ever reading Scripture but never arriving at doctrine is to like those who are “always learning and never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth” (2 Tim. 3:7).
Biblical theology must give birth to systematic theology and, in turn, to be integrated by it, so that we can say with the Psalmist: “The sum of your word is truth” (Ps. 119:160). The resistance to doctrinal thinking as a proper goal of reading Scripture is really a superstition that can only spin one is the circles of subjectivism. The preference of the past generation has been for dialogue over monologue precisely because it has sought shelter from an authoritative word that is true over and above that home-fellowship creed of what this passage “means to me.” Do not think that I am against either small group studies or devotional literature per se. These can have their place if they are not an alternative to authoritative preaching and systematic, worldview education.
In order to grow in the skills required for this, God has given a preaching and teaching ministry to the church. Where is that in Scripture? We can find it in Ephesians 4:11-16 in very plain language. Ministries such as go by names like “pastors and teachers” are for the building up of the body. Paul even suggests there that there is a right way that the parts of the body go together. It is almost as if the same teaching ministry that brings us to a heresy-proof maturity also creates all of the other traits of a sound and healthy body. As even the Ethiopian eunuch realized when he was asked if he understood what he was reading: “How can I, unless someone guides me?” (Acts 8:31) Pastoral ministry is a means of grace because the word first is. This is an important thing to keep in mind when we want this or that to happen in church life. Is the thing we want a ministry of the word? Then we should be careful that the pastors, who are charged to feed the flock with that word, are not busying themselves away from the study and service of that word. This will also be true of the life of the rest of the body. The word makes its home in us and so informs the family life of God’s house: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly” (Col. 3:16).
The Sacraments as Effectual Means of Grace
Evangelicals have tended to follow Zwingli’s strand of the Reformation when it comes to the sacraments. This is so much the case that even the word “sacrament”is banished as a “Romish” word suggesting that saving grace is magically attached to the elements or to the priesthood of the Church. Accordingly any notion that anything is “happening” in baptism or the Lord’s Supper is tantamount to sacramentalism.
When Paul says that God “saved us . . . by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3:5), he means to have us think of God’s washing and renewal of us by those waters. If we are not offended at the ink patterns and sounds waves of the Scripture or preacher telling us the same, it seems rather bizarre that we should take offense at the same message in water. “But it is not the water!” Indeed. And neither is it the ink or the sound waves. So why the special exception with the water? I understand the fear very well, but we cannot form our convictions by reaction.
That there is “the cup of blessing” (1 Cor. 10:16) means at least that much — this cup blesses! Strangely enough Evangelicals who stare askance at positive efficacy in the sacraments have no problem believing that it curses. The text from 1 Corinthians 11:27–32 is universally believed to be literally teaching that unworthy participation brings some form of judgment, or at least discipline, from God. Surely there is a cognitive dissonance in play here. When it comes to the curse, Evangelicals see power at the Table. When it comes to its greater blessings: “Nothing to see here!”
But we maintain that the two sacraments are signs and seals of the covenant of grace. Paul said that Abraham “received the sign of circumcision as a seal of the righteousness that he had by faith while he was still uncircumcised” (Rom. 4:11). That a sacrament is a sign means that it points beyond itself. In this case it points to the grace of God in the gospel: his promise of new life and his way of accomplishing it in Christ. That it is a seal means that it marks out such who partake as belonging to God and to each other. These confirm to the faithful the reality that their faith is in.
The sacraments are such simple things that they are bound to test us. As surely as we might take offense at God’s ministers who herald his word through sinful lips, so we might just take offense that bread and juice and water can “do anything” passing through sinful hands. What is the point to such poorly acted out dramas, and always the same every time! And won’t it become a “ritual” if we do these too often? Some of these questions we verbalize and others we don’t. But there are some things in life for which a child is expected to simply trust his parents and “go through the motions.” If we knew nothing else about baptism and the Lord’s Supper, should we expect any less about the trust required in that far greater distance in being between our God and our infantile taste for mystery?
Prayer as Effectual Means of Grace
Yes, prayer is a spiritual discipline to be observed in private; but it is also a means of grace for the body of Christ together. “Bear one another’s burdens” (Gal. 6:2) has this in view. No one seriously argues that, given a choice between prayer and some program, we ought to take the program all day any day. No one would accept that this is our choice to begin with. It need not be in many cases. But it may just as well. When things get started, what does one have but seeking the Lord’s will? “Unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labor in vain” (Ps. 127:1).
Prayer is our first principle of church growth: “Therefore pray earnestly to the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest” (Lk. 10:2). That statement by Jesus indicates that prayer is for raising up both field-hands and crops, that is, soul winners and the souls to win.
This was a chief characteristic of the church before and after Pentecost. They “with one accord were devoting themselves to prayer” (Acts 1:14) and “they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42). When the first elders organized the first deacons, so as to free themselves from the tasks that took them away from their primary duties—what were those primary duties? “But we will devote ourselves to prayer and to the ministry of the word” (Acts 6:4).
Prayer is a chief weapon in our spiritual warfare: “praying at all times in the Spirit, with all prayer and supplication. To that end, keep alert with all perseverance, making supplication for all the saints” (Eph. 6:18). This is specifically true in the battle against sin: “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation” (Mat. 26:41). A church that prays against the devil’s devices as if watching each other’s back will be well armed not to be used by the devil in that same backstabbing campaign.
Praying less means being with the Lord less. Because one is quite literally conversing with God, the absence of prayer must equal the diminishing of confidence in that relationship. So Jesus taught that we “ought always to pray and not lose heart” (Lk. 18:1). This same personal communion is true of our corporate life.
God’s power is honored in our corporate prayers, if they are made from the heart and expecting from his hand. And since we are praying to the God who owns “the cattle on a thousand hills” (Ps. 50:10), “the world and those who dwell therein” (Ps. 24:1), why on earth would we seek provision for a growing church from any other main source? Deep down we know the answer. We do not actually believe in prayer or in God’s good intention to bless his church. But what does he tell us? “Fear not, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Lk. 12:32).
Why Does This Matter for the Real Life of Christians?
In my “day job” as an Ask Ligonier chat agent, I get many of the same practical questions I received in my years as a pastor. The only difference is that on a live chat, there is the additional element of personal anonymity and a sort of “fast food answer” experience. That only serves to heighten the irony of questions that seek to avoid the personal care of the local church. The exact questions vary.
For example, “How do I draw closer to God?” or “What do I do when my experience of spiritual disciplines seem dry?” or “I can’t find a church where I live. What now?” or “I sinned the same sin. What do I do?” or “I don’t feel anything when I repent—am I beyond God’s grace?” or “How do I know I’m saved?” or “I had a passing thought—did I commit the unpardonable sin?” or “What is God’s will for my life?” or “There is this disagreement with a brother. I think he’s in sin but he won’t listen. Can you tell me who is right?”
What do all of these questions have in common? There is an expectation for something new and different.
Now I “hate” to be the bearer of good news, but I actually have nothing new to peddle to the seeker of novelties. I have no wizardry beyond the old means of grace, nor do I suggest you seek any. God’s own answer is the means of grace. That is because his answer is the gospel. Think of the phrase for a moment—Means … Of … Grace. You see that he has given us a “location” to drink deeply from his gospel. We are not to look for it apart from his appointed means.
The response back very often is, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know the gospel already,” but then proceeds all of the reasons why what they are currently doing is not “good enough.” There is no pastoral face palm. We must be patient. Although the answer from a faithful pastor must always be the same. We commend you to the means of grace that God has given to us. And the local church is where he says he will meet us with those. Are we wiser than God? Have the times made his means irrelevant? Surely we would not say such things. But then why do we say virtually everything else under the sun that implies those exact sentiments?
This is the core of any vision for a local church. That is not to say that it cannot build more upon this, but it is to say that such expansion cannot be built on any other foundation. And we are finite and feeble creatures, with only so much time in the day. Consequently, making these means of grace a priority is no small thing and more often neglected than not. Such realism demands that we keep these first things first.
