Let’s Begin With This… | Sunday, August 1, 2021

Put off, concerning your former conduct, the old man which grows corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, and be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and that you put on the new man which was created according to God, in true righteousness and holiness. (Ephesians 4:22-24)

When the trials of our day stir up the old nature, will we repent of our carnality and let Christ make us new?

A Trigger Warning

Before we get into the Scriptures today, a little disclaimer. This message may bother some of you. It might get under your skin; it might anger or frustrate you. I want to encourage you to acknowledge that any frustration or anger you experience may be what the Bible calls your flesh.

We all have it—what the Scriptures call the old man or the old woman, our old nature. It is that part of us that comes out when we are hungry, stressed, sick, or tired. It is the piece of you that snaps at your spouse when they ask, "Did you forget to…?" with a certain tone that pushes that proverbial button. That is what the Bible calls your flesh, and I'm sure you know exactly what I am talking about.

This sinful, carnal nature has shown its face in each of us this week—maybe even this morning. You may have already woken up on the wrong side of the bed and felt that flesh rising to where you can see it. So this message may stir your flesh, but what I intend to say is meant, like every time we come to the Scriptures together, to help you grow in Christ's likeness, to foster the new man or the new woman.

My Calling as a Pastor

That is exactly what Paul writes about in Ephesians 4. Just before he says to "put off the old man and put on the new man," he writes:

And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ, till we all come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ; that we should no longer be children. (Ephesians 4:11-14)

My work and calling as a pastor is to help you grow into mature, Christ-like men and women, to equip you to be obedient followers of Jesus. That is what it means to be a disciple. My calling actually came from this passage. I remember reading these words more than 22 years ago when I was first asked to teach the Bible: Jesus calls some to be pastors and teachers for the equipping of the saints and the building up of the body of Christ.

An Accelerant on Smoldering Coals

Let me share something I've observed over the last several months, and I think you've seen it too. The happenings of 2020 and 2021 have in many ways brought out our flesh, causing that old nature to come more to the surface—more evident to us, and more evident to those who live and work with us.

It has been like gasoline poured on smoldering coals—the coals of our flesh, which you as a follower of Jesus may have been trying to suppress and put out, but which are still lingering under the surface. Then 2020 and 2021 breathed fresh oxygen on them. We can be a little on edge. Maybe you've sensed it in your impatience with your spouse, with traffic, with your kids, with co-workers. I've certainly seen it in myself, and I've had to repent of it before the Lord.

This is one of the things God does in our lives: He allows us to go through what the Bible calls the testing of our faith. James says in James 1 that this testing produces patience. How? It draws up our impatience, our frustration, our anger—all of it to the surface—so that we can see it, acknowledge it, and confess it to the Lord. And here is the great promise: when we confess our sins, our God is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us of all unrighteousness.

The Hallmarks of the Church

I want to look at one more passage in Ephesians 4—a chapter filled with great truths. Read through it as homework this week; read the whole book, a chapter a day, and you'll be done by next Saturday.

I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called, with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love, endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. (Ephesians 4:1-3)

Let me say verse 3 again: endeavoring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. God wants us to walk in humility, gentleness, and patience, to put up with other people's issues graciously, putting in the work to maintain unity and peace within the body of Christ. Humility, gentleness, patience, grace, peace, meekness, unity—these are the hallmarks of the church. They should be the marks of Christians like me, and hopefully like you.

Everything Has Become Political

You remember the old adage to avoid the topics of politics and religion. That's practically impossible for me. Religion is my job—I pastor a church and teach at Bible colleges, so it's what I think about, write about, and study. But I've also been interested in the political happenings of our nation and world since before I was an adult. I don't watch cable TV news, but I consume a lot through the internet and podcasts, and you probably do as well.

Avoiding these topics is practically impossible in 2021, especially after the last 16 to 18 months. Politics has found its way into every aspect of life. Sports are political—Olympic viewership is at an all-time low. Business, restaurants, medicine, science, and the church have all been politicized. And politics are inherently polarizing and divisive. As a result, our nation is very divided.

Here is the crazy thing—I heard this years ago, and it was like a light went on. Someone said: in our culture in the West, it is very uncommon for someone to change their politics because of church, but it is overly common for people to change their church because of politics. This has been especially true in the last year. And it says something about us that you may not like. If you're taking notes, write this down: we have far too much carnality and far too little Christ-likeness.

Are You Not Carnal?

Here's another trigger warning. You may think, "Not me." But let me read from Paul's first letter to the Corinthians:

It has been declared to me concerning you, my brethren, by those of Chloe's household, that there are contentions among you. Now I say this, that each of you says, "I am of Paul," or "I am of Apollos," or "I am of Cephas," or "I am of Christ." Is Christ divided? (1 Corinthians 1:11-13)

The church gathered in homes, and one of those homes belonged to a woman named Chloe. Paul writes to challenge their carnality—there were factions, divided groups within the church—and he asks: is this the way Christ wants His body to be? Is Christ divided?

And I, brethren, could not speak to you as to spiritual people but as to carnal, as to babes in Christ. I fed you with milk and not with solid food… for you are still carnal. For where there are envy, strife, and divisions among you, are you not carnal and behaving like mere men? (1 Corinthians 3:1-3)

You may object: "I don't see any connection to Corinth. We don't have envy and strife here at Cross Connection Church." I wish I could wholeheartedly agree, but let me prove that we may be a little carnal, behaving like mere men—which implies we should be different.

Let me throw out some words—a kind of carnality test. Masks. Vaccines. Newsom or Fauci. CDC. Trump. January 6th. Pelosi. Shutdowns. COVID. Those words have a way of ratcheting up our tension, bringing a certain image or thought to mind. The question is: are we not a little more carnal than God desires His people, His church, the expression of Christ in this world, to be? God's desire is that we not be divided by all the things that divide the rest of the world.

He Must Increase

God's desire is that we grow in Christ's likeness and die to ourselves. Those are hard words, because our culture constantly tells us to be ourselves, build ourselves, glorify ourselves. There's a beautiful example of the opposite in the Gospel of John.

John's Gospel begins with John the Baptist revealing Jesus: "Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world." Shortly after, everyone begins flocking to Jesus. Some of John's most committed disciples come to him concerned:

Rabbi, He who was with you beyond the Jordan, to whom you have testified—behold, He is baptizing, and all are coming to Him! (John 3:26)

John's response is what I'd call a Spirit-filled response: "He must increase, but I must decrease." That's a hard truth to live by. Jesus said in Luke 9:23:

If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow Me.

That word "daily" has always stuck out to me. Paul said, "I die daily." Someone in my youth-ministry days said the flesh is the first thing to wake up every single day. That's definitely my experience.

The Most Dangerous Hazards

We see our carnality in that we are a divided nation—perhaps the one thing we all agree on. You see it with co-workers, with people on your campus, even within your own family. And it's not getting better; cultural leaders are amplifying the division. These divisions are almost entirely political, and they have found their way into the church, revealing how much less Christ-like we are than we should be.

The whole aim of leaders in the church is to equip the body for the building up of Christ's body—that we would be united and fashioned more into the image of Christ. So all these divisions reveal the extent to which we are carnal. Hopefully that upsets you. It upsets me, because it's my calling to equip you to be more Christ-like and to grow in Christ's likeness myself, so I can say, "Imitate me as I imitate Christ." In some ways I feel I've dropped the ball in equipping the body God has committed to me to be united as one.

Let me give you some local facts. Sixteen months ago, Cross Connection Church was about 800 adults and kids, with about 625 here on an average Sunday across three services—we were about to add a fourth. Today, in August 2021, we gather less than 300 people on a Sunday morning, with another 150 to 200 viewing online, and we don't fully know those numbers. We can't connect through Scripture, fellowship, prayer, and worship the way we're called to.

This isn't unique to us. The stats are clear: nine out of ten churches in our community and nation have experienced this same fallout. When COVID first started in March 2020, part of me thought it would drive people to gather and seek the Lord. But when it became political, it pushed people away, because politics is inherently divisive. I'll be candid: you show me a church that grew in the last year, and I'll show you a church that capitalized on people's baser, more carnal, divisive tendencies. That's the reality.

A Pruning for Future Fruitfulness

I'm not worried about Cross Connection Church—I know God is doing a good work here. But the extent of the departure we've seen is the extent to which we are carnal. There has been a pruning of unfruitful branches. I don't like saying that, but it's the reality—and it isn't entirely bad, because pruning produces future fruitfulness.

When my wife and I bought our first house in 2008, a foreclosure, the backyard was dead—except one giant grapevine, lush and green, shooting off twenty or thirty feet into the trees, but with no fruit. A friend said we'd have to cut it way back. We cut it until it looked completely dead, then built a trellis and guided it over two or three years. Finally we got something like forty pounds of grapes off that one vine. Our growth in fruitfulness sometimes requires pruning.

I am the true vine, and My Father is the vinedresser. Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit He takes away; and every branch that bears fruit He prunes, that it may bear more fruit. (John 15:1-2)

God's desire is that you and I, and His churches, would bear much fruit. So we have been pruned. In this present pruned state—a bare tree, if you will—what do we need to do to fulfill the calling and mission God has given us, to reach Escondido, San Marcos, Valley Center, Poway, Fallbrook, all of Southern California, the nation, and the world?

Strengthen the Things That Remain

First, we need to regroup and strengthen the things that remain. Those words come from Jesus' letter to the church at Sardis in Revelation 3. In Revelation 2 and 3, Jesus writes seven letters to seven churches in Asia Minor:

I know your works, that you have a name that you are alive, but you are dead. Be watchful, and strengthen the things which remain, that are ready to die, for I have not found your works perfect before God. Remember therefore how you have received and heard; hold fast and repent… You have a few names even in Sardis who have not defiled their garments; and they shall walk with Me in white, for they are worthy. (Revelation 3:1-4)

If you'd like a refresher, go to lifeinconnection.com and search "Cross-Examined," a series I did on these seven letters. Most Christians want to be identified with faithful Philadelphia, not the loveless church at Ephesus or the lukewarm church at Laodicea. But I think much of the American church may have moved from loveless or lukewarm to being the almost-dead church at Sardis. "You have a name that you are alive, but you are dead"—like that vine in my backyard, green and beautiful but fruitless, or the fig tree Jesus cursed.

So Jesus would say to the church in America today: wake up, be watchful, be alert, and strengthen the things still alive that are about to die. Maybe we need some spiritual CPR. There were the great awakenings of the 17th and 18th centuries; we need a great awakening in our day. Unfortunately, there's been a great "awokening" in the 21st century that has caused incredible division.

This isn't the lowest point in church history—I've studied it extensively, and the capital-C church will not die. Jesus said in Matthew 16 that the gates of hell will not prevail against His church. But there has been a winnowing, a purging of chaff and wheat, and there is a remnant that continues. I hope we are part of that fruitful remnant.

Internal Division Is the Real Danger

Let me share what I see as the most dangerous hazards for the church going forward. They are not politicians and politics—the church has endured far worse regimes throughout history. They are not shutdowns and mask mandates—we've walked through those. They are not viruses and vaccines—this too shall pass; the church has endured worse epidemics. The most dangerous pitfalls for the church are internal debates, dissensions, and divisions within the body of Christ.

What kills unity and ultimately kills churches is when we divide and cut one another off because another person holds a different view. If you find division in yourself toward other Christians in your own church over things like vaccines and masks—if you look at a fellow believer who thinks differently and conclude they're stupid, scared, or a fool—that's carnal. That's not Christ-like. You are part of the divisiveness problem. Remember that there are people who think you're stupid and scared for the opposite reason. Both of you have reasons for your decisions.

If you received the vaccine, I'll assume you did so after some risk-benefit analysis, deciding it was best for you. If you didn't, I'll assume the best—that you also did the calculus and decided it was best for you and your family. We must be careful not to label another person as anathema, a heretic to be cut off, over a political or medical issue that has nothing to do with a biblical one. Almost everyone who has cut themselves off from our church or others over the last 16 to 18 months has done so for a political reason, not a biblical one—even when they try to mask it in biblical language.

The "M. Ben" Version of Romans 14

I want to read a passage from Romans 14—not Romans 13, which has caused problems this season. This is the Miles DeBenedictis paraphrase, so don't get too mad at me; this isn't the King James—it's the MD version:

Receive other believers who are weak in the faith, and don't argue with them about what they think is right or wrong. For one believes he should get the vaccine, but another opts not to. Let not the one who gets the vaccine despise him who does not, and let not him who does not judge him who does, for God has received them both. Who are you to judge another's servant? To his own master he stands or falls. One person values masks and another does not; let each be fully convinced in his own mind. He who wears a mask wears it to the Lord, and he who does not, to the Lord he does not. He who gets the vaccine does so unto the Lord and gives thanks; he who does not, to the Lord he does not, and gives thanks. For none of us lives to himself, and no one dies to himself. If we live, we live to the Lord; if we die, we die to the Lord. Therefore, whether we live or die, we are the Lord's. Why do you judge your brother, or show contempt for your brother? For we shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ… Therefore let us not judge one another anymore, but rather resolve not to put a stumbling block in a brother's way. (paraphrase of Romans 14:1-13)

First Things First

So how do we practically strengthen the things that remain? First, acknowledge our carnality and repent of it. Where we are being divisive over things that have nothing to do with the Bible, we need to recognize that's not what Christ wants and confess it to Him. If you've been spending more time with social media and corporate news than with God in Scripture, prayer, and fellowship, that's a problem. If you've been judging everyone over these issues—openly or just within your heart—cut it out and repent.

Second, as Jesus told the church at Sardis on the verge of death, the Lord wants us to get back to basic things. That's why we're beginning this series, First Things First, throughout the month of August. We need to return to the core truths of who we are as Christians. To be a Christian is to be Christ-like, and that means we ought to be different from the culture around us. Right now the culture is incredibly divided—and so is the church. We look just like the culture, and that is not what God would have for us.

Remember: God's desire is that we grow in Christ's likeness, which may mean we die to ourselves. Get the vaccine or don't—that's up to you—but recognize there are consequences either way, and you should not judge others for what they decide. That's between them, the Lord, and their family. When we bring those things into the church and divide over them, we're being more carnal than we ought.

And remember, if something I said this morning got under your skin, that's probably an indication the Holy Spirit wants to deal with that area—to prune that branch out of your life. Paul says, "I die daily," and, "I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." May it be said of this church that we are showing forth the light of Christ into this world—not tarnished or eclipsed by the things of this world, but shining brightly in a dark time that desperately needs the light of Christ. Over the next four weeks we'll get back to some basics about what it means to be a Christian and a light for Christ in this world. I hope you'll join us.

Closing Prayer

Father God, I pray that You would be doing work in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters. Lord, purge out from our lives anything that is not pleasing to You. Help us to see those things; bring them to the surface through trials and difficulties. Maybe they've already come to the surface through the trials of the last year and a half. As they come up, I pray You would do work in us, to will and to do Your good pleasure, that we would confess what is wrong and an offense to You, and that You would forgive us and cleanse us of all unrighteousness, and cause us to be fruitful individually and as a church. For we ask this in Jesus' name. Amen.