By His Blood: The Love that Binds God’s People Together
Years ago, I went on a youth group mission trip. Near the end of the week, we shared our testimonies, going around the circle and revealing how God had worked in our lives. Every testimony started with, “I was raised in a Christian home…” True, I thought, but I haven’t always felt like a Christian. So, in exercising my inner rebel, I decided to go against the status quo and say something to the effect of, “Well, I was raised in a Christian home but have not always been a Christian.”
The others probably received the random insert of theology as arbitrary rather than the teaching moment I intended it to be. Nevertheless, eternal security was something that always haunted me. I believed subconsciously that baptism concluded, rather than commenced, my Christian walk; however, my distress was boundless at my ongoing sin. In my search for answers, the truth of the cross overwhelmed me: “But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Isa. 53:5 ESV). It occurred to me that the cyclical legalism of my works to retain my salvation were all but filthy rags. I finally understood my ongoing need for Jesus’ death: God is holy and just, and I am rebellious and sinful. I need a substitute—a sacrifice on my behalf to be the propitiation for my sins.
I was already attending church, but suddenly, I wanted to be a part of the church.
I discovered very early on in following Christ that if I was going to be redeemed—justified and sanctified—it was not going to happen in a vacuum. I was already attending church, but suddenly, I wanted to be a part of the church. God’s faithfulness brought older men into my life who discipled me; this wasn’t part of any ministry or initiated by anyone in particular. Instead, regular people in a congregation believed in the merit of walking alongside someone younger in our collective journey of following Christ.
Recently, I brought a friend to our small group for the first time. I used to be uncomfortable watching everyone bombard the new guy with all sorts of questions: “Where do you work? How many siblings do you have? Are you Wayne’s John?” Yet, as I have sat through this seemingly interrogative process, I have developed a newfound love for it. Evangelicalism has lost the beauty of tight-knit relationships in the wake of consumer-driven production. The blood of Christ is far too expensive for our investment into one another’s lives to be anything less than brother or sister. As we were putting on our coats and shoes to leave our small group, I witnessed, out of the corner of my eye, an older man from our church give my friend, whom he had just met, a goodbye hug.
As a freshly married couple, my wife and I could not imagine our lives without the local church. Whether we’re playing volleyball with the youth, being brought meals postpartum, or traveling across the country for a conference, we need the fellowship of believers who are set apart by His blood. At one time, I could merely give lip service to the necessity of the body of Christ. In God’s faithfulness, He has embedded it into the fabric of my life.
As I look at my newborn daughter, I think about how unqualified I am to be her dad, how undeserving I am to steward the gift of this little baby. What am I going to offer this girl? That may sound discouraging or bleak, but here’s the thing: It’s true. God has given me a unique role in this little girl’s life, to be sure. But what’s that old saying? “It takes a community to raise a child.” The best gift I can offer her is Jesus Christ, His life, death, resurrection, and His blood-bought bride: the Church.
One Response
Thank you Matt. I agree, the blood of Jesus is far too “valuable” (my word). We are people of the New Covenant, a covenant sealed by the blood of Jesus. “This cup is the New Covenant in my blood…”
PTL!