“Paul and Timotheus, the servants of Jesus Christ, to all the saints in Christ Jesus which are at Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.” (Philippians 1:1)
From the words of the apostle Paul here prefixed, three things are apparent in relation to the church at Philippi: first, It was a company of Saints: secondly, it was ruled by Elders: thirdly it was served by Deacons.
In dealing with the first of these in the present paper, it must be said that, beyond a doubt, the question of the membership of a church is its first and great concern. Indeed, unless things are right at this point, nothing else can be right. We may have succeeded in building up a system for the most part correct and scriptural – may have a Gospel ministry and an apostolic worship and a pure ritual – we may even have arrived at the point where, as regards the observance of religion, nothing more is to be desired; but, if we have failed to attend to the question of our church constituency, we have laboured in vain. I am not one who would lightly esteem, or teach others to lightly esteem, the least of the institutions of Christ; but of what profit are those institutions, if not found with those to whom they were first entrusted – the saints? In the hands of the unconverted, far from being sanctified, they are profaned.
With such sentiments as these, we may well appreciate the grand distinction given to the church at Philippi. That church might well enjoy the Christian ordinances, being itself the temple of Christ. Very emphatic are the words of the apostle. He does not address himself in general terms to professors of religion at Philippi, but to the “saints in Christ Jesus.” He chooses language at once descriptive of a great moral renovation. Those to whom he wrote were more than mere nominal professors; they were, as far as they could be distinguished, true disciples of the Saviour. The evidence of their change no one could fairly question; it was such as satisfied Paul himself. In the estimation, even of the apostle, they were “saints”, and they were so, “in Christ Jesus”.
Now, let us for a moment look at this: The members of the church at Philippi were saints. They had not, indeed, obtained the distinction of the “canonized” of Rome, as no such order of being then existed. Far less had they attained to a state of sinless perfection, no such state being at all attainable this side of eternity. But in the true and proper, and scriptural sense of the word, they were holy persons – persons who had undergone a great and blessed change; who had ceased to be actuated by the spirit of evil, and had become temples of the Holy Ghost. In very deed they were “new creatures”, with new affections, new judgements, new principles, new associations, new pursuits. Transformed into the image of Christ, “old things had passed away, and all things had become new”.
1. Their hearts were changed. Once at enmity with God, and in love with sin, they were so no longer. God had given them, in accordance with the tenor of his own covenant, a “new heart”, and had renewed within them a “right spirit”.
2. Their language was altered. The faculty of speech – that “glory” of man – they had hitherto employed on the side of sin and Satan. Like other darkened Gentiles – aye, and like enlightened Jews, too – they had not only lost the language of Zion, but had acquired a language unknown to holiness and God.
3. Their lives were renewed. The work began but did not terminate with a change of heart; it proceeded but did not stop with a reformation of the tongue; the life, the whole life became subject to the sanctifying influence. They had come over to the side of Christ, and their Master they would follow. In them, indeed, you did not see the perfection of Christ, but you did see men in earnest to follow their God.
But whence this marvellous transformation in those who had become the members of the church at Philippi. How did they thus come to be “saints”? Certainly not as the result of human wisdom, or of human power. It was a great moral change: a change of character resulting from a change of heart; the transformation of the outer man as the immediate and necessary fruit of the transformation of the inner man. In their union with their Saviour lay the secret of their new and holy character. They were, in the words of the apostle, “saints in Christ Jesus”. By faith they had passed into Christ, and in him they were “created unto good works.” Indeed, “in Christ” they could not but be saints. “In Christ” they were “new creatures”. Thus were their hearts renewed; thus was their language altered; thus were their lives reformed.
Such is the grand distinction of the church at Philippi. It was a community of saints – of people made holy by union with Christ. Its members, renouncing self, had embraced Jesus as Saviour, and “in Christ” were “new creatures”. Not that they were free from sin, nor were removed from the possibility of falling. Nothing of the kind. Though renewed, they were not sinless. But sin had no longer the control. If the Canaanite still dwelt in the land, it was the Canaanite not ruling but ruled.
And now, let us ask the question: How much agreement is there between this grand old model of apostolic times, and modern practice?
With regards to the great majority of the professing churches of Christ, we fear there is no such agreement at all. Omitting altogether to speak of the Church of Rome, which the scriptures describe as “the mother of harlots”, and so forth, we dare not affirm that even among the churches of the Reformation a membership like that at Philippi will generally be found. Indeed, in the nature of things, in most instances, it could not be. Renouncing the simple congregational principle, and becoming in their character associative and national, many of the so-called churches of the present day are of necessity mixed in their communion, or rather, have scarcely anything of the true material with which a church of Christ is made. In the Anglican Establishment, for example, the church is the nation; which would mean that we have a nation of saints! Nor is it very different with the Church of Scotland, nor indeed with any Presbyterian community with which we are acquainted. Like the English Establishment, those communities act on the principle of comprehensiveness, not on that of selection. Losing sight altogether of the true and scriptural notion of a church – an assembly called out (ecclesia) – and adopting the theory that the church should embrace the entire baptised population, their membership is, of course, anything but a membership of “saints”. And yet we are told that the Church of England, the Church of Scotland, and such-like churches, are scriptural and apostolic. How, may one ask, can that be apostolic which, in its very essence, is not conformed to the pattern of the apostles?
Even Presbyterian writers scoff at the idea of a church composed of believing people. Knox himself assures us that “the true Kirk of Christ” is where “his word ruleth, and his sacraments are truly ministered, notwithstanding that in the same darnel or cockle appear to surmount the wheat and the good seed.”
We admit the difficulty of their position. The system produces what exists. Never will they – never can they – look to the ideal of the scriptural pattern at all, until they have renounced that practice of initiation by that infant rite that fills the church with the surrounding world. We cannot conceive of that church being a Scriptural church in which “the darnel and the cockle appear to surmount the wheat and the good seed”. Far be it from us to become censors of our brethren; but we dare not conceal the deep conviction of our hearts concerning the nature of the church in her constituents. From the world of the ungodly would we separate the “church of the living God”. We baptise no one that does not appear first to be baptised by the Holy Ghost; neither do we receive to fellowship any that are not, as far as it can be distinguished, previously united to the Body mystical of our Lord and King. We know of no Christians who are not saints. To us, every man is a “heathen” till, in his profession and conduct, we can read his conversion to Christ. We may be, and sometimes are, deceived. Unworthy persons, under a profession of godliness, do sometimes gain entrance among us. But, as soon as the thing is known, our principles require instant exclusion. Acting consistently with those principles of God’s scriptures, we may neither receive nor retain any that are not, so far as can be known. – “Saints in Christ Jesus”.