THE CHRISTIAN COMMUNITY
Dr. W. A. Criswell
Acts 2:41-47
2-27-77 10:50 a.m.
This
is the pastor bringing the message entitled The Christian Community, the
koinonia, the fellowship of the communion of the people of God. In our
preaching through the Book of Acts, we have come to the middle of the second
chapter and the reading of the context is this, beginning at verse 36, Simon
Peter closes his Pentecostal message,
Let all the house of Israel know
assuredly, that God hath made that same Jesus, whom ye have crucified, both
Lord and Christ.
Now when they heard this, they
were cut in their heart, and said to Peter and to the rest of the apostles, Men
and brethren, what shall we do?
Then Peter said unto them, Repent, turn
and be baptized everyone of you in the name of Jesus Christ (eis, e-i-s)
because of the remission of sins, and ye shall receive the gift of the Holy
Spirit.
For the promise is unto you and to your
children and to all that are afar off, even as many as the Lord our God
shall call.
With many other words did he testify
and exhort, saying, Save yourself from this skolias, this untoward, this
lost, this deviating generation.
Then they that gladly received his word
were baptized: and the same day there were added unto them about three
thousand souls.
And they continued steadfastly in the
apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in the breaking of bread, and in the
prayers
And they, continuing daily with one
accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their
meat with gladness and singleness of heart,
Praising God and having favor with all
the people. And the Lord added to the church daily, those who were being
saved.
[Acts 2:36-42, 46-47]
When
I read the passage, the first and most wonderful impression that comes from the
inspired description of this first Christian community is one of infinite
gladness, of rejoicing and praise. Is it not written thus in the text?
Then they that gladly received his word were baptized.
And they continuing daily with one accord in the temple, did eat their meat
with gladness and singleness of heart, praising God.
And the Lord added to the church daily, those who
were being saved.
To
be glad in the Lord is a part of what it is to be saved, to belong to the
Christian community.
I am
happy in Him.
My soul
with delight
He fills
day and night,
For I am
happy in Him.
[Chorus from the song, “I Am Happy in
Him,” by “Edwin O. Excell]
One
of the most tremendously meaningful sermons I ever read in my life was
delivered by B. H. Carroll, the giant gargantuan man who was founder and first
president of our Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary located in Fort
Worth. The sermon is entitled My Infidelity and What Became of It.
In
the days of the Civil War he was a blatant and an outspoken and a rude, crude
infidel. And he had a violent reaction against those who believed in God and
in His Christ. When the days of the war were over, crippled, he came home. And
in those days, living at home, there was a tremendous outpouring of the Spirit
of God upon the community where he lived. And one night after the revival
service, he came home hobbling on his crutches. Walked throughout the kitchen
of the house and up to his room and lay down. A little nephew in the kitchen
watched him, and went to B. H. Carroll’s mother and said, “Uncle B. H. is
acting so strangely. He’s crying and singing at the same time.”
His
mother, a godly praying woman, went upstairs and into the room where her boy
was lying on the bed with his hands over his face. She took her hands and
pulled his hands away from his face. And looked long and searchingly into his
eyes. And exclaimed, “Son, you have found the Lord. You have been saved.” My
Infidelity and What Became of It: She saw it, and the little boy heard it
in the gladness of his song, even in the midst of his tears. Isn’t that a
strange thing? You’re so happy, you cry: just the overflowing of the saved
heart. To be a Christian is to be glad in song. It is to sing. It is to
praise God. It is to be like this first Christian community.
You
know, I don’t know of anything more unhappy or anything more sad or tragic than
for one to have just enough religion to make him unhappy. There’s always a war
going on in his heart. There’s a struggle and a strife on the inside of him:
between his loyalty to Christ and maybe a shady business practice or maybe a
worldly amusement or maybe a selfish covetousness. And he has just enough
religion to make him miserable or unhappy. Ah, how sad.
And
how wonderfully glad could that somebody be if he would just let God have all
of his heart and all of his life. That, I think, is one of the secrets of this
first Christian community in the second chapter of the Book of Acts. They just
gave everything, themselves, all that they had, all that they did, they just
gave it all to the Lord. It says here, “And all they that believed, were
together, and had all things in common.” And it says, “Neither said any of
them that all the things that he possessed was his own.” They just gave
everything, everything to the Lord, themselves, what they possessed, the work
of their hands, the dreams and visions of their souls, all of it, they just
gave to the Lord. And they were happy in Him.
I
heard of a very devout, fine, godly and affluent couple: faithful in the church,
faithful in their devotion, faithful in their gifts. They prayed; they gave to
missions; they supported the work. They were a godly and exemplary Christian
couple. They had one daughter, one child, who upon a day came back home from
school, from college, and announced to her father and mother that she had felt
God’s call to be a missionary, and was now preparing her heart and her
education to go out on a foreign field and represent our Lord as a missionary.
The
father and the mother at first took it so hard. “We have given our money,” they
said, “We have given our prayers,” they said. “We have given our time,” they
said, “our love and devotion,” they said. “But you, child, you’re the only
child we have. And to see you leave and go on a foreign field is just almost
too much.” The father and the mother resolved that they would take it to God
and tell the Lord in prayer all about it. And when they finished their praying
they had found an infinite peace and rest in Him. “Lord, not only the money we
have, not only the prayers of our hearts, not only the devotion of our lives,
but Lord, also we give to Thee, this only child.”
That’s
a marvelous thing, if we could ever achieve it. Everything we give back to
Him. This is God’s air that I breathe. This is God’s world in which I live. These
are God’s hands and God’s feet that He created and gave to me. This is God’s
heart and God’s soul that lives within this physical frame that is God’s holy
temple and house and home, and heart and life and vision and dream and work all
of it God’s. And when we come to the place in our lives when we can just say, “It’s
His.” Ah, how happy we are.
One
other thing in this, in this exceptional description of this first Christian
community, “And they continuing steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and
fellowship, and in breaking of bread and in prayers.”
Tonight,
I’m going to speak of those four things that the Holy Scriptures avow
characterized that first church. This morning in the second part of the
message, I chose one of them. It says doctrine and fellowship and breaking of
bread, our Lord’s Supper. Wherever that phrase, ”breaking of bread,” is used
in the New Testament, always it refers to the Lord’s Supper.
“And
in the prayers there is private prayer; there is public prayer. God has
purposed that His people gather together, publicly to share in the prayers. But
the one I speak of this morning is that second one, “And in the fellowship.” What
a beautiful word that is. In Greek it is koinonia. Sometimes it is
translated “communion.” I have never objected why some of our Baptist people
object to calling the memorial service the communion service Did not Paul by
inspiration say: “The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body
of Christ? And the cup which we drink, is it not the communion of the blood of
Christ?”
It
is that word koinonia. It is the common fellowship, the common bond
between our Lord and us, the communion service. It’s also translated and it is
here in this text. The word koinonia is also translated “fellowship,” the
fellowship of the saints.
It
is the purpose of God from the eternal ages that there be a church, a body of
Christ, an ekklēsia, an assembly of the saints which is in the New
Testament a koinonia, a fellowship. It is a precious thing that God
hath done for us. That He places us together in the body of our Lord where we
belong to Him and to each other. We’re not saved ever in the plan of God and
left alone, forsaken. But always in the purpose of the Lord, it is that we are
joined to the koinonia, to the body, to the fellowship, to the assembly,
to the family of God. One of the most beautiful and meaningful of all of the
verses in the Psalms is this, Psalm 68:6, “God sitteth the solitary in
families.”
Thus,
does He rear these little children in the circle of a home. There’s not anything
that would bring tears to your eyes more than to see a forsaken child. God
never meant it that way. “He sitteth the solitary in families.” And thus He
does when we are born into the family of God. We are added to the church,
added to the body of Christ. We become fellow members of the ekklēsia,
the assembly of God’s saints.
Last
month, as some of you know, I was in southern Florida preaching through the
week at a national Bible conference. And while I was there, there was a couple
who sang a song. Ah, it just moved my heart. And after it was over, I asked
the music director if he would make a Xerox copy of that song and bring it back
to me. He did. I have it in my hands. He made a copy of it. And I brought
it and asked the Froese family, the Froese family, one of God’s sweetest little
families in our church and choir. I asked them to sing it for us and they did.
It is called “The Family of God.”
You will
notice we say “brother and sister” round here,
It’s
because we’re a family and these are so near;
When one
has a heartache, we all share the tears,
And
rejoice in each victory in this family so dear.
From the
door of the orphanage to the house of the King,
No
longer an outcast, a new song I sing;
From
rags unto riches, from the weak to the strong,
I’m not
worthy to be here, but praise God, I belong!
I’m so
glad I’m a part of the family of God,
I’ve
been washed in the fountain, cleansed by His blood!
Joint
heirs with Jesus as we travel this sod,
For I’m
part of the family,
The
family of God.
[“The Family of
God,” by Gloria Gaither and William J. Gaither]
No
wonder I would ask for a copy of the song. I’m a part of the family of God,
the koinonia, the fellowship, the communion of the saints.
Now,
I have kind of a little philosophical thing that I want to say about that now,
in a little different world, but ah, so true. You see, one time just a sittin’
down, possibly on a plane, you know, going across this country and just sit and
sit and sit and think and think and think, well, I was just a sittin’ and a
thinkin’ somewhere. Just a thinkin’ and a sittin’ and a sittin’ and a thinkin’,
you know, just like that. Well, you know what I got to thinking about? I
started thinking about who owns the mutual funds and who owns mutual companies.
For
example, these tremendous mutual insurance companies by far, by far the
greatest financial enterprises we have in the world are these vast mutual
insurance companies. They have billions and billions and billions of dollars
such as the Metropolitan Life Insurance Company, billions of dollars. But they
are mutual companies, you know, nobody owns them, they are mutual companies.
Well,
I just got to thinking, who owns the money the billions of dollars in a mutual
company such as like the Connecticut Mutual or Metropolitan Life Insurance? Just
got to thinking about that. So I stumbled into an insurance executive of one
of those companies. And I said to him, “I just want to know, who owns the
billions and billions of dollars in your company? Your mutual life insurance
company, who owns it?”
He
said, “Well, of course all of the people who have policies in it do.” But he
said, “Actually, all of those billions of dollars will ultimately belong to the
last surviving policyholder, the last surviving policy holder.” All of those
billions of the companies.
So
I got to thinking again, I started thinking again and I just started thinking,
you know, what if I were that last surviving policyholder? Dear me! And I
would walk down the streets of say, New York City, and I’m the last surviving
policyholder. Everybody else is gone. Everybody else is dead. And I alone
survive and all of those billions and billions are mine.”
And
I walk through the streets of the city of New York City, say, and I look at
those tremendous skyscrapers, they’re all mine! And I look at those tremendous
New York City banks, they’re mine! And I pass Tiffany’s and the rest of the
beautiful jewelry shops, every diamond and jewel is mine! And as I walk
through that great city, all of it is mine. I’m the last survivor, It is mine!
And
then, I’m alone. I’m by myself. I’m the last survivor. These skyscrapers,
these great banks, the wealth of these jewels, and I am alone. It’s the last
thing in the world I’d want. For it’s you and you and we that make life sweet
and dear and precious. And without you, it is trash and dust and ashes. The
preciousness of God’s gift to us is one another, the koinonia, the
fellowship, the assembly of the saints. I don’t want to be here when you’re
gone. I want to be over there, if that’s where you are. And that’s why the
Lord said: “I go to prepare a place for you...” And that’s why He leaves us
here in Christian communities, to encourage each other in the faith, in the
pilgrimage, until the day that He gathers us home.
I
have one other brief comment. The Christian community is like an island in a
vast and endless, secular world. The sea of worldliness surrounds us on every
side. Their values are worldly. They’re material; they’re inevitably secular.
And we live in that kind of a world. But we are an island in it. And to it,
we can bring our hearts and our homes and our families. And in a world of
secularity and materiality, we can live godly and spiritual and heavenly lives.
In
one of the translations, Moffatt’s, he refers to the church as a colony of
heaven, described the church at Philippi, a colony of heaven. Philippi was a
Roman colony and in the translation he referred to the saints there as a colony
of heaven. I think that was inspired. In the midst of a dark world, we live
together as a colony of heaven, a little island of the presence and
preciousness of the Lord.
And
I see our people as out on the streets and in the homes and in conversations, I
see them as they invite others to come into this koinonia, this
fellowship, this assembly of the Lord. And with joy unspeakable and full of
glory I see ,from time to time, these respond who are thus encouraged and
invited to come and be with us in the family of God.
This
week, as you know, we have had our School of the Prophets, about five to six
hundred pastors and staff members from all over America, spending a week here,
talking about the things of the Lord and of the church. One of those men, one
of those men, told me this, “In 1945,” he said, “I was discharged from the
Army, from the second World War. And I descended into the gutter. I was
wretched and miserable and in the depths of sin.” He said, “I happened to be
one Sunday evening in Dallas, walking through one of those downtown streets,
wretched and miserable.”
And
he said, “A godly couple saw me and they stopped me, and they said we are going
to church, to the First Baptist Church, would you go with us?” He said, “I
told them I have nothing else to do. I will.” And he said, “We came to the
church that night. And I listened to you preach.” And he told me, “That night
I was wondrously saved. God came into my heart.” And he said, “You know, I
took my GI bill and went to school and to the seminary and I am now pastor of a
fine little church in northern Louisiana.”
My
brethren, if we never did anything in our lives but that, it’s been worth it,
every step of the way, every part of the assignment. That’s just like heaven: “Come
and walk with us. Come and be with us. Come and belong with us as a member of
the family of God.”
And
that is the invitation the Spirit would press upon your heart this morning. We
invite you in Christ’s stead, in the name of our heavenly Father; we invite you
to belong to the household of faith, to the family of God, to the communion and
the fellowship of the saints, to the church and general assembly of the
firstborn whose names are written in heaven, come, come, come.
Make
the decision now in your heart. And on the first note of this first stanza,
stand up, walking down that stairway, walking down this aisle. “Here I am
Pastor, I make it now.” “This is my wife,” or “this is my wife and these are
our children. We are all coming today.” Or, just one somebody you.
On
the first note of the first stanza come. I shall be here on this side of the
table of our Lord’s Supper. Come and stand by me. “Pastor, I have given my
hand. I have given my heart to the Lord.” With you and these dear pilgrims,
we shall walk God’s glory road to heaven. Do it now! Come now! Make it now,
while we stand and while we sing.
.