You could hear a pin drop if weren’t for the subtle sound of weeping from the pulpit. The room was on edge, waiting to hear a single word from the preacher. It was hard to breathe. The weight of what was about to be presented pressed heavily upon me. As an intern, I knew what was about to happen: a church member, unrepentant after being confronted with serious sin, was about to be excommunicated.
A Bit of Backstory
I grew up in an era of church that prized personal autonomy. “Judge not, lest you be judged! Get the log out of your own eye!” was the cry of the day. When someone sinned, it was better to let it go rather than call it out for fear of ridicule. Most people would leave a church if they had fallen morally — which happened often. I can think of many instances in which beloved church members, so ashamed of their public sin, moved away, never to return. The thought of other people seeing their sin proved unbearable. Has God not given His people the gift of brothers and sisters who challenge unwise patterns to prevent public shame?
He has (Matt. 18:15–18), but it seldom works the way Scripture prescribes.
As a child, I remember thinking these people were so foolish to run from their problems. The era of church prized personal autonomy in the same way as that area of town. “Don’t worry, I got this. God helps those who help themselves” was the mantra of the day. In all the ways we could help ourselves, we did. Forget calling a friend to fix this or that. The DIY price is all we would pay.
Sadly, that mantra transferred over to sin in the church. When someone asked, “Brother, how can I pray for you?” the answer was about someone or something else. “Ah, well, Mother’s dog died, so she’s been upset,” or “Man, I’m doing good” (implying, don’t worry about me) were the common responses. I rarely heard things like, “Brother, I am really struggling with [fill in the blank],” or “I cannot kill this [insert sin here] in my life.”
The problem was that there was little to no discipline happening in church. Fellow members were unable to dig deep enough into another’s life to help them fight their sin.
A New Sense of Discipline
After college, I moved away and joined a new church. I’ve never been to a friendlier and more open church — “friendly” in the most Southern Baptist sense. The old ladies give you hugs, the kids give you high fives, and they all seek you out to do so. “Open” in a different sense. I don’t mean open to having you over for dinner, though this happens often. I mean open to letting you speak into their lives. God has blessed this church with an openness to let others reprove, rebuke, encourage, and instruct them with God’s Word (2 Tim. 4:2).
This openness swung the doors of private discipline wide open. Often, the Matthew 18 process never proceeds beyond the first or second step. But when it does, it’s a very difficult path.
Recently, I’d watched my church’s elders labor through a difficult case that persisted for several months. I felt relieved that this person would not get away with adopting a false view of justification. I thought that I’d be calm when it came before the church, but I was absolutely gutted in the moment. The devil seduced a member into believing a lie about the finished work of Christ. Leading up to this moment, I was relieved that I never knew the person; however, knowing that this person’s soul was in eternal danger shattered my sense of discipline. I was no longer satisfied that this person “got his.” Instead, I was in sorrow, and so was my church. After years of pleading, our church had finally come to face the truth: This person would not return.
This was unlike anything I had ever experienced.
A few months later, another case surfaced. The elders had been pleading with a man for years to gather with the saints. Though he was a church member, they would have been satisfied had he darkened any church door, but he refused. They informed the church that members would have another month to plead for his soul before he was to be delivered over to the devil (1 Cor. 5:5). They did, and he repented and was restored to our church in full fellowship.
Again, this was unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
Does the Church Keep Us Saved?
In a sermon on the importance of the church for believers, I heard one preacher say, “The church is a means which God uses to keep you a Christian — not to make you one, but to keep you one.” So, does the church keep us saved?
Yes, it does (Heb. 13:17; Heb. 10:24–25; James 5:16).
First, the pastors are responsible to keep watch over the souls of their church. Our pastors are God-given gifts for our spiritual defense, nourishment, and preparation for the next point.
Second, church members are responsible to fulfill the “one another’s” of Scripture. Our brothers and sisters with whom we covenant together are God-given gifts for our sanctification. Without them, we’d wallow in the shame of our unconfessed sin and remain unchallenged in our ignorant transgressions.
Finally, God uses the church as a vital means of our sanctification. Spiritual maturity is nurtured in the church. Without a pastor’s convictional preaching or a brother’s private challenge to our sin, we’d be left alone like a wandering sheep encircled by a hungry lion. The devil doesn’t need us to wander into one big sin to devour us. As Charles Spurgeon said, “You don’t know how near your soul may be to destruction, when you wantonly indulge in the smallest act of sin … [little sins] multiply rapidly, beyond all thought — one becomes the mother of multitudes.”
If God has saved us (justification), is saving us (sanctification), and will save us (glorification), then it must be His people through whom He keeps saving us.
