In attempting to get at the Scriptural teaching upon any divine principle, the diligent student finds it useful to consider not only those passages which bear on their face a direct relation to the subject, but also those which contribute only an indirect emphasis.

The idea of reconciliation is quite pervasive in the teachings of Christ. How else could it be for one in whom God was reconciling the world to Himself (2 Cor. 5:19)? This is nowhere more evident than in that section of his teachings known popularly as the Sermon on the Mount. Here, in rapid succession, the Divine Master places his blessing upon the meek, the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers — the reconcilers! The “Beatitudes” are followed by the warning:

“Except your righteousness shall exceed the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven” (Matt. 5:20).

Jesus could not have meant that his listeners should follow a more abundant “righteousness” than that of the Pharisees: that would have been well nigh impossible at any rate. He must have meant a “righteousness” of a different sort — leaving behind the painstaking legal hair-splittings of washing and purifying; the wearisome fretting about contamination and separateness in a ceremonial sense. The righteousness that Jesus advocates is an earnest, loving consideration for one’s brother, the principle rather than the appearance of righteousness, a reaching forward and not a pulling back:

“Everyone who is angry with his brother shall be liable to judgment” (v. 22, RSV).

We can well imagine the skeptic’s words: “Yes, this is all well and good; but what does it have to do with ‘fellowship’?” The answer is found in the next two verses:

“Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there remember that thy brother hath ought against thee; leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; FIRST BE RECONCILED to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift” (vv. 23,24).

The “gifts” we offer to God at this time, which Christ must have had in mind, are prayers and praises (Psa. 141:2; Hos. 14:2). The “altar” to which we now approach is Christ himself, in heaven at the right hand of the Father, where he acts as priest and mediator also (Heb. 13:10; 1 John 2:1). The lesson is obvious, and has — it may now be seen — a strong bearing upon our “fellowship”: Even if your “lamb” or “gift” (i.e. your personal, individual worship and service) is “without blemish”, you must still be reconciled to your brother before God will be pleased to accept it! Only when reconciliation is sought, and peace is made, and brethren dwell together in unity (Psa. 133:1) — only then is the invitation extended: “Come and offer thy gift.”

The Proverbs tell us there are seven abominable things, which God hates. The seventh (the worst?) of these is “he that soweth discord among brethren” (Prov. 6:19). If this is so, then the teaching by contrast would be this: he whom God loves above all else, who is worthy of the seventh (the greatest?) blessing, is the peacemaker and the reconciler — ‘’he who sows accord among brethren”.

“The command of Christ is, ‘BE RECONCILED.’ Jesus does not discuss where the fault may lie. That is unimportant. The important part is — Seek reconciliation, continually, always. Not just go through the motions once or twice, like a technical Pharisee. He says — BE reconciled; keep at it; never give up the effort. IF THESE COMMANDS WERE OBEYED, THERE COULD BE NO ECCLESIAL PROBLEMS” (G.V. Growcott, “Be Ye Therefore Perfect”, The Berean Christadelphian, Vol. 57, No. 2 — Feb. 1969 — p. 47).

“Brethren in Christ must PRACTICE reconciliation, atonement, and unity, not seeking to expose sins but to recover the sinner. They have no authority from Christ to mark up the failings of others and to make known from the housetops their deviations and sins….We should be no wedge-drivers but reconcilers, and not fall into the error of rejoicing more over the one sheep that is lost than over the one that is found, over withdrawing fellowship rather than restoring it” (The Committee of The Christadelphian, “Fellowship — Its Spirit and Practice”, The Christadelphian, Vol. 109, No. 1291 — Jan. 1972 — p. 11).

Again, we come in our survey to a passage which critics of our viewpoint would argue has “nothing to do with fellowship”. And in one sense they would be correct. The word itself does not appear at all in the chapter. But the best students of the Bible must agree that, in the close study of any divine subject, the more broadly based our conclusions are, the better. The All-wise Father does not teach His children by simple assertion only; if He did, then our Bible would need be no more lengthy than our Statement of Faith. But He teaches us also by type, parable, history, prophecy, and example. Foremost among the examples given for our instruction is His only-begotten Son. The example of Christ’s sacrificial life, culminating in a cruel, lingering death, speaks volumes to the reflective soul concerning “fellowship”. We might even say that “fellowship” is the main theme of Isaiah 53, for it tells us of Christ’s sharing, his partaking of our infirmities.

Isaiah 53 is a mountain peak of God’s Word. I will not attempt an exhaustive, or even a brief exposition of the chapter as a whole. This has been done very ably by others, and their efforts will be well-known to most. Let us simply consider the chapter as it relates to our fellowship experiences and responsibilities, as a moral issue and not a “theological” one (in the common sense of the word).

No man of faith can stand before the cross. It is perpetually holy ground — this mysterious place of meeting between God and man. The perceptive disciple approaches the mercy seat on his knees; he finds there no place to display his own strength or wisdom or cleverness. All the qualities that develop pride in natural man are driven from him further and further with each blow of the hammer upon the Roman spikes. As his awareness deepens, he must finally acknowledge that the cross of Christ has become, not a set of logical premises to be thrown back and forth in legalistic debate, but rather a moral mandate. As the rising of the sun drives away the darkness and creates each day a new world, God’s love for man as demonstrated in Christ’s death and resurrection forever changes the spiritual landscape for the believer. Every issue of his life must now be viewed in the peculiar divine glow emanating from Golgotha.

And thus our fellowship, with the Father and the Son and with one another, is seen against the background of Christ’s sacrifice. Here is the practical expression of his fellowship with us, his brethren. This should be our example of action toward one another.

To those of us who have been accustomed to read Isaiah 53 as related only to the last day or so of our Savior’s mortal life, the quotation in Matthew 8:16,17 comes as quite a surprise:

“When the evening was come, they brought unto him many demoniacs…. and he healed all that were sick: that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by Isaiah the prophet, saying, ‘He took our infirmities and bore our diseases.’ ”

Surely these verses are telling us that Christ’s sympathy for poor suffering humanity was an intensely personal feeling. We can imagine no stronger words to convey the closeness, the unity, the fellowship of suffering. Here is no theoretical transferal of guilt or sin-effect; there is no ritual, no ceremony about it — it is real, as real as it can be! This man was one of us. He stood before the tomb of a friend and shed real tears. Our weaknesses were his… are his still, this high priest who was touched so deeply with the sensation of our infirmities, and who carried it with him into the most holy place. For our griefs are his, our sorrows also. For us he was willing to die; for us, finally and conclusively, he did die. And not just for “us” as a whole or a concept or an abstraction, but… this is the real wonder…. he died for each one of us! Had there been only one sinner, Christ would have still been willing to die. When each of us stands before the judgment seat, he will be looking into the eyes of a man who gave his life, personally and individually, for him.

Yes, it truly is a marvel: The Savior of mankind suffered for sinners. For the man who blasphemed God’s Holy Name, Christ spent sleepless nights in prayer. For the man who coveted, and even took, his neighbor’s wife, Christ denied himself all fleshly indulgences. For the man who in hot anger or cold hatred slew his brother, Christ bore the Roman scourge that tore his flesh and exposed his bones and nerves. And for us, “righteous” as we might be in the ordinary “middle-of-the-road” sense, but sinners at heart if we would but admit it, consumed with petty jealousies and grumblings, unthankful, lazy, and often indifferent — yes, for people like us — Christ, the holiest of all men, groaned and bled and died.

What does it really mean, to bear the griefs and sorrows of another? As exemplified in Christ, it was more, much more, than a mechanical “burden-bearing”. It was a “living sacrifice”, a way of life that denied the lusts of the flesh within himself, while at the same time loving and striving continuously for the well-being of his brethren who could not, or did not, so deny themselves. And when they failed, and failed miserably, he bore with their failures and never gave way to “righteous”, condemning anger — but only expressed sorrow and gentle rebuke. Was there ever such a man? “For even Christ pleased not himself” (Rom. 15:3).

“The Lord hath laid upon him the iniquity of us all.” “He was wounded for our transgressions.” Here again we Christadelphians so quickly lapse into the “technical” aspects (the word here almost seems sacrilegious) of Christ’s sacrifice. We carefully point out that Christ did not bear the guilt of our sins, and that he did not die in our stead. And there is nothing wrong with saying such things, in their proper place. But, is it not possible that we are missing the main point? Call it what you will, hedge it about with exceptions and careful definitions, when all is said and done, HE DID DIE — and that is the important issue!

Let us be careful here; let us examine ourselves. In our zeal for “truth”, are we so caught up in the theory that the fact is almost ignored? Do we suppose that when we have explained, in man’s imperfect language, why Christ died, on a legal basis — that our conception of the cross is complete? No, brethren. This man died because he loved to the uttermost his brethren. Here is the lesson. Christ’s way of life, the “fellowship” he practiced in regular interaction with his brethren, is the challenge to us. Do we perceive that love as an impossible theory — or as a reality, to be reproduced and practiced by us, here and now? Our Savior calls us, he commands us, he entreats us, insofar as we can, to do as he did. He sets before us an ecclesial life of difficulties, of sorrows, of problems — and he tells us: ‘Bear the infirmities, even the iniquities of your brethren. I died for them; you must live for them. I did not please myself; neither should you. They are all worth saving, they are all worth loving, they are all worth your sacrifices and prayers — or else none of you are worth it! If you really believe in my love, then you must believe that your ecclesial problems can be solved — and that love is the key to their solution.’

We break bread and drink wine as a memorial of our fellowship with God through Christ. We do not earn this right; it is a profound privilege and a gift, earned by the sufferings of Christ. It is given freely to sinners, if they will only believe. A fine record of outstanding accomplishment, accompanied by perfect purity of doctrine (remember our “brother” the Pharisee who prayed in the temple!), will not earn us eternal life. The spirit that compasses sea and land to bring division between brethren of Christ for the smallest hint of a cause will not earn eternal life, no matter how zealously exercised that spirit is!

“He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good, and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” (Mic. 6:8).

In his letter to the Corinthian ecclesia, the apostle Paul attempts to set right several difficult local problems — of which one was the attitude and manner in which the brethren were celebrating the Lord’s Supper. In stating the divine principles concerning the memorial, he exhorts us as well.

“Take, eat; this is my body” (11:24). The words originally spoken by Christ had a two-fold meaning; Paul perceives this and endeavors to pass it along. The bread represented the literal body of Christ, and it represented the spiritual “body” also — those who in sincerity and truth believe and obey Christ’s teachings, which are the “bread of life”. It is certainly no coincidence that the chapter concerning the memorial feast is followed by observations and instructions regarding the many-membered Body consisting of Jews and Gentiles, bond and free, all given one life through Christ their head (1 Cor. 12).

Brethren in this age, just as their forerunners in the first century, when assembled for the solemn meal, should listen for the words of consecration spoken over them, and not just over the literal body, by the One who walks in the midst of the lampstands: “This is my body.”

It follows that the ecclesia cannot properly be the Body of Christ when it is beset by separations, schisms, ill will, and turmoil (11:18,19). How best can such wrongs be avoided? By bearing in mind, as Paul continues, that the bread and wine are taken in remembrance of Christ (vv. 24,25). If everything is centered upon him, then troubles of all sorts will diminish.

And not just in token of Christ’s life, but especially because of Christ’s death, as the passover lamb without blemish (John 1:29), is this meal instituted. “For as often as ye eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do shew the Lord’s death till he come” (1 Cor. 11:26). The “shewing” is a “setting forth”, after the order of the Jewish Passover, a solemn proclamation to all who are in the house, as well as to “the stranger who sojourns with thee” (Exod. 12:48). It is an intensely personal rite — though it may be observed as part of a large group: “This is done because of that which the Lord did unto ME….” (Exod. 13:8).

The personal aspect of the memorial is intertwined with the corporate, just as in the other rite enjoined upon all believers — baptism. True, each has its pluralistic qualities. By the one, a believer enters the Body of Christ; by the other, he regularly reaffirms his standing there. But each rite is essentially an individual one, as was the offering of sacrifice at tabernacle or temple — the closest approach by the single soul to communion and oneness with God, to fellowship of the sufferings of His Son.

Paul stresses that, if each individual believer will fully enter into this spirit of the Lord’s Supper, then the schisms and doubts and disruptions of the Body as a whole will be minimized, perhaps even eliminated. Those who seek to please themselves, whether by self-indulgence (as in Corinth) or self-exaltation (remember the Pharisee who prayed in the temple!), are not truly “looking unto Christ”. What they do, then, they do unworthily, and “are guilty of the body and blood of the Lord” (1 Cor. 11:27). In effect, they have said with the rabble before Pilate’s judgment seat, “We have no king but Caesar, the ‘god of this world’. This man’s blood be upon us!” In short, any partaking of the emblems is an unworthy, or vain, pretense if he who eats and drinks does not always see “Christ crucified” (1:23); that is, if he does not see the reason for his Lord’s crucifixion, which is… his own sins. All this is so “that no flesh should glory in his presence” (v. 29). The memorial meeting is not the time nor the place (is there ever one?) for one sinner to attempt to criticize the lives of his brethren.

A contemplation of one’s own sinfulness and consequent need for redemption is surely sufficient to occupy fully the mind of the saint at the Lord’s Supper. “Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of that bread, and drink of that cup” (1 Cor. 11:28). Certainly Paul is here alluding to that first supper:

“And as they did eat, he said, ‘Verily I say unto you, that one of you shall betray me.’ And they were exceeding sorrowful, and began every one of them to say unto him, ‘Lord, is it I?’ ” (Matt. 26:21,22).

It is possible still for the disciple to betray his Master. He who falls away from the Truth, who allows the soil of his heart to bear again its natural thorns and briers, is crucifying to himself the Son of God afresh, putting him to an open shame (Heb. 6:6,8). He is treading under foot the holy blood of the covenant (10:29), even as swine heedlessly trample pearls in the mud (Matt. 7:6). It is indeed better for such a one never to have known the way of life than, having known it, to insult and outrage the precious Spirit of grace mediated by Christ. ‘I would never do such a thing,’ is the instinctive reaction. But that is just the point! None of us is immune from just such a falling away; the wolves of the world follow hard behind the flock of Christ, and the stragglers are swiftly torn apart. Christ must speak to each of us, in the bread and wine; his eyes must gaze into ours and turn our vision inward. ‘One of you will betray me.’ ‘Are you speaking of me? Lord, is it I? Give me strength that it be not so. Lord, I am so weak. Let me cling close to you. Purge from me all that offends you, so that I betray you not in thought or deed.’ Surely here is the only correct attitude for each of us who assemble to the memorial meal: all of us together constituting “One Body” but each steadfastly examining himself alone in the light of the Perfect Example. Not “Who is he that would betray Christ?” but instead, “Is it I?”

“The most pressing and urgent lifelong consideration of any who aspire to the kingdom of God must be their own complete personal transformation of character. The realization of this urgent necessity is far too dim among us. This is our foremost ecclesial concern, and the root of most ecclesial problems.

“Any attempt to judge, criticize or regulate the lives and conduct of others — until we have brought ourselves into line with the commandments of God in this respect — is hypocrisy.

“We tend to feel, or at least to act as though we feel, that if we can legislate righteousness upon others, and surround ourselves with the external appearance of a sound ecclesial framework, then our own personal shortcomings will somehow be absorbed, and overlooked, and compensated for, in the general ecclesial strength. We tend very much to get our priorities in this respect completely reversed. Jesus said:

‘Thou hypocrite; first cast out the beam out of thine own eye, and then shalt thou see clearly to cast the mote out of thy brother’s eye’ (Matt. 7:5).

“We shall find that the more attention and concern we give to our own very numerous shortcomings, the less will be the vehemence of our zeal to condemn our brethren, and the more cautiously, and gently, and Christ-likely shall we approach that task.

“Let us, then, frankly examine our own conduct and characters in the light of the plain, simple commands of Scripture, and see if we are in any position to presume to operate on the eyes of others.

“Let us judge, and suspect, and expose ourselves at least as critically as we so eagerly judge and suspect and expose others. Rather, indeed, let us judge ourselves far more searchingly than we judge others, for this is the prescribed course of Scripture, of wisdom, and of love. The divine command is:

‘Let a man examine…. HIMSELF’ ”

(G.V. Growcott, “Let a Man Examine Himself”, The Berean Christadelphian, Vol. 60, No. 11 — Nov. 1972 — p. 338).

“For he that eateth and drinketh unworthily, eateth and drinketh damnation to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body” (v. 29). Those who look too much at the faults, or supposed faults, of their brethren are in danger of doing this very thing. In looking at others rather than themselves and Christ, they are first of all missing the point of the ordinance, and nullifying in their heedlessness the benefit to themselves of the offering of Christ’s literal body. And in so judging others, they may also be tearing the Lord’s spiritual “body” to pieces. He who cannot discern the Lord’s “body” all around him, who sees his brethren and sisters only as so many potential problems of doctrine and practice, is in danger of cutting himself off from them. His “careful” eating and drinking in solitude will then degenerate into a silly smugness, a self-satisfaction that may remove him from the very benefit he thought was exclusively his. “I thank thee, Lord, that I am not as these other men.” But you are like them, and the sooner you realize it the better!

“If there come any unto you, and bring not this doctrine, receive him not into your house, neither bid him God speed: For he that biddeth him God speed is partaker of his evil deeds” (vv. 10,11).

Without attempting a complete exposition of this letter, it should be noted that John was addressing an unnamed sister and mother in the Truth, one in whose home the ecclesia of that district met. In her kindness the “elect lady” (v. 1) had offered her hospitality to certain traveling preachers who could scarcely, if at all, be called Christian.

What was the doctrine so heinous as to merit the title for its purveyors of “antichrist” (v. 7)? It was the erroneous contention that Jesus did not “come in the flesh”, in other words, that he was in essence God and only seemed to suffer the frailties of humanity and the climactic death on the cross. The apostle rightly saw this as a significant perversion of the gospel, which effectively nullified all else of truth to be found in the itinerant speakers’ message. He therefore counseled the sister not to receive such men into her house nor, by implication, to receive them at the Breaking of Bread held there. They were to be shunned completely.

The question is this: Was such a prohibition intended to apply, as a general rule, to any and every irregularity of belief or practice, whenever and wherever manifested? The answer is, emphatically, “No”. The particular error in 2 John is said to be that of “anti-Christ”, etymologically signifying that which replaces or stands as a contrast to the true Christ. The name seems to be reserved for those errors which deny the nature and character of Christ (1 John 2:18,22; 4:1-3), thereby rendering unintelligible his redemptive work.

A passage from Robert Roberts is often quoted to justify the disfellowship of everyone that might, mistakenly or otherwise, bread bread with some individual who believes any error. Brother Roberts says, among other things:

“As to those who bring not this doctrine, John’s comment is — ‘Receive him not into your house, neither bid him God speed!’ This commandment we can no more evade than any other commandment delivered unto us.”

The citation is certainly forceful enough as it stands to support most any wide-scale excommunication of individuals and ecclesias alike. However, the effect is drastically mitigated when a portion of the immediately preceding paragraph is also quoted:

“The doctrine of Christ is that he is God made and manifested in mortal flesh of Abraham’s race for the deliverance thereof, on his own principles, from ‘that having the power of death’ ” (Seasons of Comfort, p. 98).

It was to such as “bring not this doctrine” (according to both John Thomas and Robert Roberts), and to such only, that the extremely harsh directive of the apostle should apply.

The sweeping use to which our brother’s words are often put is specifically denied by him in another passage. There he speaks of “fellowship” on far more practical, reasonable, and (we might say) spiritual grounds than some of his “followers” would care to admit:

“Fellowship is friendly association for the promotion of a common object — with more or less of the imperfection belonging to all mortal life. To say that every man in that fellowship is responsible for every infirmity of judgment that may exist in the association is an extreme to which no man of sound judgment can lend himself. There will be flawless fellowship in the perfect state. Perhaps it is the admiration of this in prospect that leads some to insist upon it now. But it is none the less a mistake. This is a mixed and preparatory state in which much has to be put up with when the true principles are professed” (“True Principles and Uncertain Details”, The Christadelphian, Vol. 35, No. 407 — May 1898 — p. 187).

In reviewing verse 10, other points of interest emerge:

“If there come any unto you…” —

These verses clearly refer to some serious error introduced into one’s local ecclesia. They give no sanction to the searching out of alleged error in other ecclesias, much less those which are great distances away, on the basis of some rumor.

“And bring not this doctrine” —

These deceivers were active, positive false teachers, engaged in a campaign, not just “holders” of false doctrine or those who might be termed “weaker brethren” or “honest doubters”, who should be sought after and reclaimed.

“Neither bid him God speed” —

“God speed” was an unfortunate choice by the translators of the AV, a choice which has colored much of subsequent Christadelphian analysis of this passage. Brother Roberts equates “God speed” with “intimacy, toleration, and cooperation” (The Law of Moses, p. 285); this may be implicit in the text, but it is certainly not the primary meaning. The Greek word is chairo — which merely means “greeting” or “farewell”; it is so used many times in the New Testament (Matt. 26:49; 27:29; Luke 1:28; John 19:3; Acts 15:23; 2 Cor. 13:11; James 1:1). It may also mean “to rejoice” (Matt. 2:10; John 3:29; 16:22; Rom. 12:12; 2 Cor. 6:10; Rev. 19:7).

This presents us with a couple of alternative views of the passage:

(1) These false teachers’ doctrine was so extremely dangerous that they could not even be greeted courteously, nor be given the most elementary considerations due even to out-and-out worldlings, much more to “erring brethren”. Such a view, in conformity with our understanding of this special doctrine, thus removes this passage from serious consideration as a guideline to ecclesial duties toward most other, milder forms of error. Would any “minority fellowship” brethren seriously want to adopt such an attitude toward all other Christadelphians? The otherwise unanimous view of the apostolic passages regarding errorists is that they are to be gently entreated, and diplomatically led away from their follies. So we have here in 2 John a unique case, and consequently one which gives no real precedent for lesser issues.

(2) The second possibility, much less likely, is this: If the word chairo here signifies “to rejoice”, then that which designates brethren “partakers of the evil deeds” of gross errorists is their rejoicing in that evil — that is, wholeheartedly approving of and positively participating in the propagation of error. This is not to suggest that something less, say a passive toleration, is proper — it may be wrong too, depending on circumstances — but only that it is not the “partaking” or “fellowshiping” of the error which some interpreters would have it to be.

Therefore, no matter which of the two interpretations of “God speed” be chosen, the verse is not that clear-cut directive to the “block disfellowship” of all that break bread with one false teacher. Even if the elders of an ecclesia should decide to tolerate the membership of one holding false doctrine, it cannot be said that members of that ecclesia who continue to use every opportunity to expose and denounce his errors are “bidding him God speed” or “partaking of his evil deeds”. To say that they are is a travesty of language. The situation has been known a hundred times over that something done or said by a brother has been openly disapproved of by the rest of his ecclesia without excommunication being applied. At times the simpler expedient of removing such a brother from all speaking and teaching duties has allowed him the scope to recover his spiritual balance and forsake his error.

Brother Roberts’ understanding of “God speed” certainly conforms to this. He says:

“If men lend themselves to the evil projects of others and wish them well in them, no doubt they are as responsible for those projects as if they actually promoted them with their own personal labours. This is the principle to which John gives expression when he says, ‘He that biddeth him (the holder of false doctrine) God speed is partaker of his evil deeds’ “ (“True Principles and Uncertain Details”, pp. 187,188).

The problem in a single-minded reliance on this passage to justify wholesale separation is evident when the effects are fully considered. It is self-evident that an interpretation of a passage that “proves” too much actually proves nothing at all — for then there is surely something wrong with that interpretation. This is so with an unbalanced view of 2 John 10,11: (1) If merely refusing to punish error is “bidding God speed” to it, then was Christ a “partaker of the evil deeds” of the adulteress when he said, “Neither do I condemn thee”? (2) Should brethren hold themselves to be “partakers” and thus personally guilty of every aberration or “sin” of every brother or sister in their “fellowship”? This is perceived as sheer folly when examples are considered. Suppose, for example, one brother in your worldwide fellowship — only one — smokes; suppose another, but only one, occasionally drinks to excess. Now you yourself never touch tobacco or liquor of any sort. Are you nevertheless a “partaker” of these things, and many more, because you endure these brethren in your “fellowship”? In short, is a brother really the sum of all the worst parts of all his weakest brethren? Such ill-founded logic must be our conclusion if we apply 2 John 10,11 to any and every ecclesia situation.

Two short quotations from John Thomas would seem to go well here:

(1) Of the correspondent who accused him of being a “slave owner”, he wrote:

“His argument is that in fellowshipping slave owners, and those who fellowship them, the parties so fellowshipping them are partakers with them of their evil deeds; and therefore as much slave owners and slave holders as if they actually held and drove them. The argument is specious but not sound” (The Herald, 1851, p. 204).

(2) And again:

“The salvation of individuals is not predicated on the purity of their neighbour’s faith, though these may be members of the same ecclesiastical organization” (Ibid., p. 120).

In conclusion: 2 John 10,11 appears to be the only passage in the Bible which puts “tolerators” on the same ground of condemnation as the “false teachers” themselves. We have shown that, for the purposes of condemning those who “bid them God speed”, this passage proves either too little (for the context is quite specialized) or too much (thus making us all “partakers” of every “evil” to be found in our midst). The wisest course would appear to be that we leave 2 John alone as “pure fellowship” justification, and that we turn our attentions to other passages which may give more solid footing, and practical limitations as well, for Biblical “disfellowship”.

We come next to Paul’s warning to Titus, the elder of the ecclesia (or ecclesias) on the island of Crete:

“Avoid foolish questions, and genealogies, and contentions, and strivings about the law; for they are unprofitable and vain. A man that is an heretick after the first and second admonition reject (paraiteomia); knowing that he that is such is subverted, and sinneth, being condemned of himself” (Tit. 3:9-11).

The word paraiteomia has also been translated “avoid” (2 Tim. 2:23) and “refuse” (1 Tim. 4:7; 5:11); it points to the clear duty of rejecting or excommunicating a “heretic”. However, the provision of a first and second admonition must not be forgotten, and this points the way to a comparison with the similar order of admonition in Matthew 18:15-17 (see Chapter 9). The disfellowship, if such is finally deemed necessary, must be done in the spirit of meekness, and at every step the brethren so acting must endeavor in love to reclaim the offender. Such matters must be handled locally, and not be allowed to unsettle ecclesias elsewhere.

“There is need for a faithful rather than a harsh observance of this apostolic counsel today. The most serious consideration should be given to the question of whether a brother’s nonconformity is of such a nature as to justify the grave decision of exclusion. Each elder should ask himself the question, in all cases, not ‘Do we traditionally disfellowship for this divergence?’ but ‘Can I, as a responsible elder and shepherd, give full satisfaction to my Lord at his judgment seat, that I do well to exclude this brother?’ “ (J.B. Norris, The First Century Ecclesia, p. 55).

Furthermore, it must be noted that those brethren or ecclesias that fail to excommunicate “heretics” are not to be equated with the “heretics” themselves. (Such a notion is based solely, but erroneously, on 2 John 10,11.) They may be disobedient to the apostolic injunction, but this shortcoming does not of itself constitute them guilty of the same or as serious offence as their erring brother. These words of Paul do not sanction the judging and disfellowshiping of large numbers at a distance — for how then could the “admonitions” be properly administered? In fact, no Bible passage sanctions division from a nominally sound ecclesia because of its supposed failure fully to discipline an offender.

The seventeenth-century translators have made a rather unfortunate choice of words here. “Heretick” is a quite interesting and complex word, but subject to misinterpretation. Transliterated from the Greek, it is hairesis, or “heresy”. The word denotes a “choice”, or that which is chosen; hence, an opinion. Secondarily, it means a “sect” or division — a party formed, either as a subgroup of a main body, or in extreme cases entirely independent (W.E. Vine, Expository Dictionary, Vol. 2, p. 217, and Vol. 3, p. 335). It is not even implied that the distinctive character of the “sect” is a doctrine at all (Speaker’s Commentary, New Testament, Vol. 3, p. 817). The Sadducees and the Pharisees were called “sects” or “heresies” (Acts 5:17; 26:5), as were the “Christians” before their break from Judaism was complete (Acts 24:5,14; 28:22). The Greek word has no inherent suggestion of an error, only of party spirit tending toward division. It was only in post-apostolic times that “heresy” acquired the invariable meaning of doctrinal divergence; the term was so applied to all deviations from the Roman Catholic apostasy during the fourth century and beyond (Imperial Bible Dictionary, Vol. 3, p. 86; International Standard Bible Encyclopaedia, Vol. 3, p. 1377).

A “heretick”, therefore, would signify an “opinionated person” (W.R. Mitchell, “The Epistle of Titus”, The Dawn Ecclesial Magazine, Vol. 18, No. 12 — Dec. 1957 — p. 274), a separatist, a causer of schism or division, for whatever reason. Paul says that a heretic is “self-condemned” (Tit. 3:11), apparently because of the position of separation in which he has placed himself. Thus the ecclesia’s rejection of him is more or less an official acknowledgement of the “status quo”.

The main accompanying idea in the other passages where hairesis occurs is of some sort of division:

• In 1 Corinthians 11:18,19 it is used synonymously with “schisms”, which, however, had not yet resulted in full-scale ecclesial division, but only in factions.
• It is listed with strife, seditions, and envyings as one of “the works of the flesh” (Gal. 5:19-21); the list, however, includes no false doctrines.
• In 2 Peter 2:1,2 “heresy” is the division which certain men cause unjustly, not the false doctrines they teach!

All this agrees well with the context of Paul’s letter to Titus. Therein he more than once characterizes the Cretans in general as liars, lazy gluttons, and envious (1:12; 3:3), men naturally given to controversies, dissensions, and quarrels (3:9) — in short, men who are always combative, never satisfied, potential sectarians, troublemakers, or “heretics”. It is an extraordinary irony that those brethren who feel they are most scrupulous at resisting “heretics” (i.e. teachers of false doctrines?) through their policy of absolute separation are themselves guilty of b

eing “heretics” (schismatics) in the Biblical sense.

Having considered in detail the passages most relevant to Biblical fellowship, we now examine those that might be placed under the heading of “Biblical dis-fellowship”. Perhaps we can determine, from a review of both sets, how far we may reasonably go, and where we may reasonably stop, in our demands upon our fellow-believers. These passages are grouped under the heading OBJECTIONS because those who would most object to the general drift of this study to this point would no doubt quote such verses in counter-argument. I feel that these “dis-fellowship” passages have been seriously misused by many Christadelphians. They have been “wrested”, in some cases, out of their quite restricted contexts and made to do duty that the inspired writers never intended. The extent of these misinterpretations will be apparent as we continue.

It is worthy of note that the idea of disfellowship, or excommunication, of many ecclesias worldwide for the sins or supposed sins of those in one corner of the world is often confidently advanced under the umbrella of “the overall teaching of the Old Testament”. Such passages as Deuteronomy 17:2-7 (the idolator’s punishment); 18:9-12 (the elimination of false religions); 20:16 (Canaanite abominations); and Joshua 7 (Achan and the Babylonish garment) are cited to support the like treatment of those who espouse wrong ideas today in spiritual Israel.

The difficulties in such a generalization are manifold. In the first place, New Testament fellowship should be established and controlled on the basis of New Testament passages. It would be a very easy matter to produce a number of plainly absurd conclusions by applying the same methods to other Old Testament passages. For examples, should arranging boards recommend the stoning of “Sabbath-breakers”? What should believers do today, preach the love of Christ and the coming kingdom of God to their more-or-less “heathen” neighbors, or launch military campaigns against them?

Secondly, the great principles of God are fundamental and eternal — we are speaking of the majestic themes of Scripture, such as the covenants of promise, light and darkness, love and hate, and the holiness of God — but the personal applications vary enormously from time to time. Our twentieth-century ecclesial leaders do not have the inspired wisdom that the apostles and many of their co-workers had in the first century. It must not be forgotten that the “general teaching” of the Old Testament was the application of sound principles to changing circumstances by men inspired by God. These men, like Moses, were directly and explicitly commanded, when God judged the time as ripe, to punish evildoers. A close parallel between those days and ours is clearly impossible.

Even such Old Testament “retributive” passages as listed above do not go so far as to require the “elimination” of those otherwise righteous worshipers of God whose only “sin” was living side by side with such as Baal-worshipers. Yet the principle of worldwide fellowship responsibility, to be proven, would necessitate some such Mosaic precedent as the annihilation of entire villages, the worshipers of the Lord along with those of Baal, simply because they did not act against the error in their midst. And, even if this sort of reasoning be allowed thus far, which is without Scriptural precedent, should the next village over the hill be similarly destroyed for failure adequately to “police” its neighbor town?

Perhaps the best argument against such an exaggerated view of fellowship responsibility is one that has already been mentioned elsewhere; yet it is so important that a second reference would not be out of place. Where the prophets of Israel witnessed against the spiritual abuses among their contemporaries they did so while still continuing full fellowship with those whom they denounced. More than this, the examples of Moses (Exod. 32:30-33), Daniel (9:5-14), Nehemiah (1:6,7), Jeremiah (3:25; 9:1), and Ezra (9:6,7,13) show these men intimately associated with the people whom they reprimanded, even so far as confessing the sins of the nation as though they were their own. Here is the spirit of true fellowship, or sharing, by which those most exercised against error bear the burdens of their brethren, and strive with them as partners — not outsiders — to defeat the enervating effects of sin. Such a policy stands, with God’s blessing, a chance of success. But the opposing policy condemns from the beginning innocent and guilty alike, and invariably fails in the object it purportedly seeks — that is, the elimination of error; for who ever gives serious attention to those who “walk out”? By all standards of law, both human and divine, such “deserters” forfeit any voice in the affairs of the enterprise. Who welcomes, or even listens to, the advice of those on the outside looking in? Imagine a brother who, finding his neighbor’s ox in the ditch (Deut. 22:4), stands carefully aside but generously gives constant directions to the sorely-beset owner as to how to extricate his animal. And James similarly tells of the rather impractical (to say the least!) character who says to the cold and hungry, “Be ye warmed and filled” (2:16), but cannot bring himself to become “involved” enough to really help.

A final point completely overturns any appeal for severity to the general Old Testament teachings. It is this: the Lord was in unbroken “fellowship” with the nation of Israel from the time He brought them out of Egypt until Ezekiel’s day. This is proven by the presence of the “Shekinah” glory, leading the people by cloud and fire through the wilderness, and afterward enthroned in tabernacle and temple. The nation was from time to time filled with the grossest abominations, with widespread indifferent to the prophets’ messages, and with every other imaginable sin. God’s messengers were incessant in their demands for reform; but no matter how evil the nation, a righteous remnant always remained and consequently the nation was preserved. Its “fellowship” with God was only withdrawn when His glory was seen departing by stages from the Temple on the eve of Jerusalem’s captivity (Ezek. 9:3; 10:4,18,19; 11:23). Until then, no matter how imperfect their service, Israel remained in communion with God. Thus, if anything may be learned of the general principles of fellowship from the Old Testament, it is that it was never lightly withdrawn from those who bore the name of God — as has been done in His Name, and often for the flimsiest of reasons, by more than a few modern believers.

The names of Korah the Levite and Dathan and Abiram of Reuben stand high on any list of the troublers of Israel. Much can be learned, however, of a negative nature from these men, for their sins were such as (in lesser degrees, one would hope) are common to most of us. Indeed, it might even be said that their sins — rebellion, pride, and jealousy, leading to a divisive, condemning spirit within God’s people — are among the most prevalent in the latter-day development of the brotherhood.

The jealous feeling entertained by Aaron and Miriam against Moses (Numbers 12) culminated in the punishment of leprosy upon the prophetess. Even this striking lesson does not seem to have quelled the rebellious spirit among several prominent men in the congregation of the Lord. Korah, a leading Levite, and two princes of the tribe of Jacob’s firstborn son, leading a formidable delegation, strode boldly before Moses and his brother. “Wherefore then lift ye up yourselves above the congregation of the Lord?” (Num. 16:3). The challenge was the offspring of ambition; these were men who aspired to leadership but did not possess the required qualities. The Truth has suffered much from such as these: men who to gratify their own whims of self-importance rend apart united bodies, blind leaders of blind followers who can in one day destroy the work of years of patient building.

“And when Moses heard it, he fell upon his face” (v. 4). He must have realized, this man of God, what havoc their presumption would work among an impressionable nation. He naturally feared that the catastrophe he had personally averted on the summit of Sinai, when Israel had rebelled against God’s authority, would now break forth afresh and bring to ruin God’s work in the wilderness.

“Tomorrow the Lord will show who are his” (v. 5). There is no suggestion that the man of God knew what would transpire on the following day. But he must have been confident that in some way God’s will would be made known. The test proposed by Moses was an arraying of the rival leaders with their censers on one side, and the meek Moses and his family on the other. It seems that Korah was eager and confident, feeling that in such a show of numbers, headed by his dignified and impressive self, the easily swayed congregation could not help but choose him and his allies as their new rulers.

“It would seem that this apostasy of Korah had already brought into existence a rival system of worship to that centred in the Tabernacle. Two hints in the narrative point to such a conclusion. The leaders of Korah’s company — two hundred and fifty of them — were already each equipped with a censer for the burning of incense, which was the morning and evening duty of the priest only and never of the Levite or the layman. So the organization of another system of worship must already have proceeded to a dangerous extent. There is also repeated reference to ‘the tabernacle of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram.’ This is the technical word ‘mishkan’, used of the Tabernacle of the Congregation, and quite distinct from the ordinary word for an ordinary tent (Num. 16:27)” (H. Whittaker, “The Rebellion of Korah”, The Testimony, Vol. 32, No. 381 — Sept. 1962 — p. 306).

After Moses had issued his great challenge, the ground heaved beneath their feet. A great chasm like the mouth of Leviathan opened suddenly and engulfed the partisans of apostasy among the nation as they stood arrogantly at the doors of their tents. Simultaneously God’s wrath burned like fire and consumed Korah and his self-appointed priests. One moment they stood there, an impressive assembly of human pride; the next moment they were but charred and unrecognizable corpses. A stunned silence enveloped the camp as the survivors struggled to grasp the implications of these marvelous Divine judgments.

Even now judgment was not at an end. The children of Israel now turned upon Moses and Aaron as though they personally were to blame. “YE have killed the people of the Lord” (v. 41). So again the glory of the Lord appeared, this time threatening the destruction of all the congregation. Only prompt action by Aaron at Moses’ direction stayed the plague of God before it could finish its gruesome work. Nevertheless, 14,700 died in the plague (v. 16:49). It was a sad day for Israel.

Brother Islip Collyer has written an excellent article, keynoted by the question, “What are your aims, agitator?” Therein he has this rather pointed comment:

“If we were to make a parable out of the rebellion of these ancient Levites — if we were to write of brethren M. and A. as the most prominent members of a little community, and brethren K., D., and A. as disaffected members of the same ecclesia — if we were to put the words of rebellion into modern style, it is to be feared that the circumstances might be recognized in several centres as a sarcastic account of their own local trouble. The parable might even be extended for the benefit of the country as a whole. The man who agitates for the sake of agitation, and changes the nature of his complaints as soon as any attempt is made to pacify him would be recognized by many observers” (“Wayside Letters”, The Christadelphian, Vol. 52, No. 613 — July 1915 — p. 308).

Brother Collyer in this article leaves any conscientious reader with this unsettling thought: Many of those things for or against which he has agitated were, after all, not nearly so important as they first seemed, and the total effect of the turmoil was more bad than good. Many agitators in fact have had as their predominant aim, though perhaps only subconsciously, the satisfaction of self. A gardener finds that he must once in a while turn over the soil and remove the weeds from his little plot. But if he is always “stirring”, the plants will not grow at all. If we find such a gardener in exasperation one day pulling up plants right and left because they are disappointing to him, we might well ask, “What is your aim in so doing?” And he would, no doubt, reply, “To make this the best garden in the community.” “But how does this particular destructive work accomplish that worthy goal?” And if the gardener is true to himself he will have to admit that his fit of temper has accomplished no good, but only left a mess to clean up. Let us weigh our motives carefully before we agitate the vineyard of the Lord, as did Korah and his followers.

“One of the most serious threats to the unity of the nation… was the affair of Korah, Dathan, and Abiram. It arose directly because a purely fleshly reasoning caused the men concerned to press their personal importance to the detriment of the good of the nation as a whole. They fell into the error of ‘not holding fast the Head, from whom all the body, being supplied and knit together through the joints and bands, increaseth with the increase of God’ (Col. 2:19). Their action was based upon premises that seemed sound enough: ‘All the congregation is holy, every one of them, and the Lord is among them’ (Num. 16:3). These were the words on the lips of the ‘250 princes of the assembly, famous in the congregation, men of renown’, men who according to the record, Korah, Dathan, and Abiram ‘took’. Much lies concealed behind those words! One can imagine the secret meetings, the passing on of information from mouth to mouth, the fomenting of trouble, the sowing of discord, and all because Korah, being a son of Levi, desired to play the part assigned to others of his tribe, and Dathan and Abiram thought their tribe, the tribe of Reuben, deserving of greater pre-eminence than that to which God had called them!

“What is the relation of all this to ourselves as a community?… Our heritage is no less [than that of Israel], for the same God is working towards unity in Christ in the Ecclesia, which is both a body and a commonwealth….The people of Israel had a history of fragmentation and division which began in the wilderness and for which there are two principal reasons: Firstly, they had no sense of devotion to the Lord, whose Name was revealed in His mighty acts of power and compassion on their behalf….Their loss of the vision of the Divine glory caused them to yearn for Egypt, and ultimately to refuse to believe that they were the people whom God would bring into the land of His promise. They fragmented because they had no faith in the purpose of their calling.

“The other reason for their disunity was their failure to keep in mind, much less to comprehend the concept of the unity of their people, or to realize that the purpose of God was not with individuals or with tribes as such, but with ‘all Israel’, to whose wellbeing individuals and tribes contributed by playing each their several and necessary parts. Any fellowship other than that which acknowledges that one is our Head and all we are brethren is still, as it has always proved to be, a fellowship of opposition which leads to further fragmentation within the dissident group itself. As far as we can tell from a survey of our own history and that of Israel, there is no exception to this principle” (A. Nicholls, “The Whole Family Which I Brought Up From the Land of Egypt”, The Christadelphian, Vol. 115, No. 1364 — Feb. 1978 — pp. 42,43).

The fugitive David was beset both by persecutions from without and trials from within. The less-than-spiritual advice that he must often have received from such as Joab is the subject of Psalm 11. This psalm opens with a profound “statement of faith”, as it were: “In the Lord put I my trust.” For David there was no other repository of trust; king and council had turned against him who was the anointed of the Lord. Those whom he sought for succor were caught within the spell of destruction. Eighty-five of the Lord’s holy priests, with their wives and children, lay dead at the hand of a blasphemous Edomite because he, David, had asked for bread. From pillar to post he fled, scarcely able to find a place to lay his head, as the cruel and vengeful Saul breathed down his neck.

But now, worst of all, his friends were working against him — advocating a plan of action that would cause him to abdicate his trust in God. “How say ye this to my soul?” he asks — and then follow the words of David’s counselors, which he quotes back to them:

‘Flee as a bird, David; go to the mountains. Leave this ‘land of promise’ behind you. All it promises you is a criminal’s death. The wicked — like Saul and Doeg — have their bows and arrows primed for action. They’ll kill you and us and say they are doing God service. If the foundations are destroyed, what can the righteous do?’

Such words have always been the sound of retreat for those among God’s people who found the going rougher than they expected. We have all heard such cries of despair in the brotherhood. ‘The foundations of the Truth have been undermined. Let us flee to the “mountains”. Only there can we be safe. There is nothing left in which we can trust.’ It is to David’s everlasting credit that he holds such cowardly advice up to the contempt that it deserves. His courageous words give life and meaning to the statement which opened the psalm: The Lord was indeed his only trust, so much so that external situations could not undermine that faith.

And as for the “foundations” being destroyed, no, never! Perhaps if men trusted in human institutions to perpetuate righteousness, to glorify God’s Name, perhaps then it might be said that in Saul’s Israel the foundations were no more. But, no, neither the judges nor the laws nor even the Tabernacle itself was the “foundation” of Israel. God is the foundation of the upright; He cannot be destroyed — even if all those in authority lose sight of Him and His demands. The tangible manifestations of God’s rule may crumble and fall, or be pulled down by evil men, for they are temporal; but that which is not seen is eternal. The Lord is in His holy temple, the Lord’s throne is in heaven; His eyes behold and try the children of men (Psa. 11:4). Nothing escapes His notice. At the proper time, in God’s own way, He will deal with any threatening situation. In this simple promise men must put their trust, waiting upon the Lord.

Many centuries have elapsed since the rebellion of Korah and the tyranny of Saul, and we find the imprisoned Paul concerned for Timothy his beloved son in the faith. How should he discharge his responsible duties in the household? Already men like Hymeneus and Philetus were undermining the doctrine of the resurrection and destroying the faith of some (2 Tim. 2:17,18). It seemed as though the foundations of the truth were crumbling all around. Was it time to give up hope, to flee like a hireling from the wolves of rebellion and pride and error? No, the answer of the old apostle was clear:

“Nevertheless [i.e. despite all the difficulties and problems you see on every side]… nevertheless the foundation of God stands sure” (v. 19).

How do we know this, Paul?

‘You have this seal — this guarantee: Men may attempt to subvert, to destroy, and to corrupt God’s Truth, but they cannot succeed. The Lord knoweth them that are His! In the proper time the others will be dispensed with.’

Paul’s words echoed those of Moses — “In the morning the Lord will show who are his, and who is holy” (Num. 16:3) — and David — “His countenance doth behold the upright” (Psa. 11:7).

“If we can bring ourselves to realize that all is at all times in the unerring and almighty hand of God, and that we are but a small cog in a vast machine, we shall not be trapped into that self-important anxiety that leads to hastiness and harshness.

“When we see worldliness gaining ground in an ecclesia; when we see modern customs making a mockery of Scriptural ordinances…when we see attendance gradually diminishing and worldly things interfering even on Sunday morning; when we see… that shallow and self-important little minds introduce new crotchets and speculations — we are apt to become despondent and panicky.

“But why should we? Did Paul? No! He says:

‘The foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal: The Lord knoweth them that are his.’

“And the apostle, far from despondency, sounded out from his prison-cell inspiring words of courage, and patience, and glorious hope. Without bitterness, but with terrible significance, he points out (2:20) that in a great house there are not only vessels of honor, but also vessels of dishonor. If a man will purify himself, he shall be among the vessels of honor.

“This may seem a strange way to give encouragement, but it would help Timothy to realize that ecclesial disappointments and difficulties do not necessarily mean an abandonment by God, but are rather a part of the divine wisdom of trial and probation” (G.V. Growcott, “No Man Stood With Me”, The Berean Christadelphian, Vol. 57, No. 4 — April 1969 — p. 114).

The apostle continues his exhortation to Timothy: “Flee also youthful lusts” (v. 22) — but do not flee the ecclesia! “Avoid foolish and unlearned questions” (v. 23) — but do not avoid the foolish and unlearned brethren who need your counsel now more than ever. Be patient and meek; do not despair. It may be that by your longsuffering instruction some will be brought to repentance who would otherwise have perished in a general apostasy.

In Christadelphian circles, there will probably always be some who agitate for division and subdivision by an appeal for precise interpretations upon “words” and “phrases” that are far beyond the grasp of the average brother or sister. In their hands the gospel is in danger of becoming the province of “experts”, while the ordinary believer must in his confusion choose which of the “expert” disputants to follow. (In that case, however, how can such disputes — even if it be presumed one side is right and the other wrong — be matters of foundation truth, relevant to fellowship, when the ordinary majority can hardly make heads or tails of the arguments?) Such men as these will accuse others of slackness and toleration when they decline to go to the same lengths in denouncing and excommunicating “error”. Paul says, in effect: ‘Never mind such criticism. God knows the feelings that motivate your actions. God knows who are truly His, and He will reveal them in due time.’

Many lessons of a very practical nature might be gleaned from the inspired diary of “the king’s cupbearer” (Neh. 1:11). For the present purposes, however, we shall concentrate on the qualities of character that constituted Nehemiah “a wise masterbuilder” (1 Cor. 3:10) and give us guidelines to do likewise.

Having learned from his brother Hanani (Neh. 1:2) that the wall of Jerusalem was broken down and the gates burned (v. 3), Nehemiah pleaded with Artaxerxes for permission to travel to the land of his fathers to promote a reconstruction program (2:1-8). After a long and rigorous journey he finally arrived at Jerusalem; within only three days, ever the tireless worker, he was up and about on an inspection tour of the city and its fortifications. Nehemiah found many adversaries ready to hinder the work (v. 10), while very few were willing to help in the building.

After viewing the desolations, he called the nobles and the priests together and explained his purpose, and how the king had supported him. They were so impressed that their response was immediate, concerted, and sincere — “Let us rise up and build” (v. 18). The work was well organized by Nehemiah, and construction began without delay.

But it did not go perfectly; the characters of Nehemiah and his brethren, like ours, must be tempered by adversity and hardship. There was opposition from the neighboring Samaritans and Gentiles, who used both guile and physical threats in an attempt to intimidate Nehemiah and impede his work. Most troublesome yet, there were internal dissensions: the Tekoite nobles would not “put their necks to the work” (3:5), and the men of Judah were prophets of pessimism (4:10). But Nehemiah did not despair, or lose hope; he maintained his impressive example and cheerful disposition at all times. It was characteristic of this man (and typical of Christ!) that he prayed for the forgiveness of the sins of the people as though they were his sins too! “We have sinned”, said he, and he was willing to share in the guilt of his nation, his “ecclesia” (1:6,7). The knowledge of the sins of his brethren did not discourage him, nor impel him to disassociate himself from the work, but only to redouble his efforts to bring the nation to repentance and finish their task. His enthusiasm was infectious, and the great work of repairing the wall was completed in only 52 days (6:15), “for the people had a mind to work” (4:6).

“ ‘The people had a mind to work.’ When that is condensed into one word, it spells cooperation. The same idea was expressed by the apostles in such terms as ‘one mind’, ‘like-minded’, and ‘with one accord’. This thought should impress us deeply, because it is the only way possible for an ecclesia to succeed.

“If we do not work together, our love will grow cold; bitterness and evil speaking will be generated, and if this is augmented by the continual agitation of some crotchet which has been developed by our desire to have our own way, the foundations of our ecclesia will disintegrate and the whole structure will collapse. We must be on our guard at all times, and examine our purpose and motives….” (G. Gibson, “The People Had a Mind to Work”, The Berean Christadelphian, Vol. 59, No. 12 — Dec. 1971 — p. 354).

Chapter 3 of Nehemiah enumerates 44 teams who begin work on the wall. Each team is assigned its own portion to build. Did some complain about the quality of their brethren’s work at other stations? Did others grumble because they could not be everywhere and do everything and supervise? Did some sit down and refuse to help?: ‘We just are not sure that we can approve of all the details of this operation.’ In the divine retrospect on the work of Nehemiah, all such petty hindrances and worries are put to one side. “Let us rise up and build” was the mandate; this call to the men of the city did not admit of any paltry quibbles. The work was too great to let personalities and prejudices and pride stand in the way.

It is the same with us as we strive to fortify God’s “city” today. There may be fears without, fightings within; but each brother, each individual ecclesia has pressing responsibilities near to home. Each of us has his portion of the “wall” to build. No matter what we think of our neighbor’s building, or that “shoddy bit of work” way across on the other side, when the True Masterbuilder comes to inspect the work, each of us will be judged on his own portion!

“Every unit of the body must do its part by — ‘….speaking the Truth in love,…growing up into him in all things, who is the head, even Christ: from whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto edifying of itself in love’ (Eph. 4:15,16).

“This is the only formula of a true ecclesia. What we do for our brethren and sisters, is what we do to God. If what we do is dominated by love, all will be well, but if we are not truly motivated by love and kindness in all we say and do, there will be no edification, and no bodily growth, and we will be brought into condemnation, and will never enter the kingdom of God. For, said Jesus,

‘Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me’ (Matt. 25:40)”

                                                                                                (Ibid., p. 355).

The following is a condensation and revision of the article “Conflict of Loyalties”, by H. Whittaker (The Testimony, Vol. 38, No. 454 — Oct. 1968 — pp. 377-380).

It was the time of the great reformation that the zeal of Hezekiah had set going. The appeal had gone out to all the tribes of Israel, regardless of boundaries or political loyalties, that they come up to Jerusalem to keep the Passover after the manner of their fathers. And although the messengers of the king had met with much derision and contempt, there were also many in the region of Galilee who responded and came with gladness to join in their new surge of godliness.

But there were hindrances of many kinds, with the result that it was not found possible to hold the Feast at the normal time — the fourteenth of the first month. However, the Law of Moses provided for a second celebration a month later (a kind of supplementary Breaking of Bread!) for the benefit of those who were unclean through contact with the dead or who were away on a journey when the proper time came round. Strictly speaking, neither of these “exceptive clauses” applied to these latecomers from the north. Even less were they a valid excuse for the people of Judah and Jerusalem.

Nevertheless the Feast went forward in the second month with zeal and rejoicing. It was not that king or priests or people were ignorant of what the Law lay down. There was no disposition to cover up or evade the technical infringement with any kind of clever argument. Rather, the issue became quite simply this: ‘Is it better for us and more to the honor and glory of God that we keep the Passover with an irregularity of procedure, or that we do not keep it at all this year?’ Faced with this alternative — especially in such circumstances — the proper decision was obvious.

Yet it was not to be denied that some commandment of the Law was infringed. Had they desisted altogether, still the Law said that the Passover must be kept. Had they kept it in the second month, then they were found guilty of appropriating to themselves the concessions of Numbers 9:10 which clearly did not apply in their case. Also, many of those coming from the north were not ceremonially purified to keep the Passover (2 Chron. 30:18). Here the Law was infringed again in unmistakable fashion. Yet the Feast was kept,

“for Hezekiah prayed for them, saying, ‘The good Lord pardon every one that prepareth his heart to seek God, the Lord God of his fathers, though he be not cleansed according to the purification of the sanctuary’, and the Lord hearkened to Hezekiah, and healed the people.”

None would dispute that, infringements and irregularities aside, Hezekiah and the people did the right thing — or, rather, the best thing possible — in the circumstances.

This kind of tension between two conflicting laws and principles of God’s appointing, both of which apply in a given case, is not uncommon. It happened under the Law of Moses, as for example the dilemma of circumcision on the eight day when it chanced to fall on a Sabbath; Jesus entered into several controversies between the traditional interpretations of the Sabbath law and his own greater law of loving service to mankind.

Similar situations are not unusual in the life of the disciple today. If a young Christadelphian is commanded by his unbelieving parents to miss the Breaking of Bread so as to accompany them on a visit to an aged relative, which commandment does he break: “Do this in remembrance of me”, or “Honor thy father and thy mother”?

Is it right to buy some magazine which will further one’s study of the Signs of the Times if this means giving indirect support to some unrighteous cause which that publication happens to advocate?

Should an ecclesia spend thousands of dollars on the purchase of a fine organ to enhance its worship and praise of God if a quarter of its members believe that this money should be devoted instead, say, to the Bible Mission?

We begin to see now the bearing of the foregoing considerations on the vexed question of fellowship. Without any doubt, division and fragmentation arise because brethren resolve in different irreconcilable fashion yet another conflict of principles:

‘Here is the beginning of apostasy,’ says one; ‘I cannot with clear conscience belong to a community which tolerates such denials of truth; no matter what the cost, the Faith must be kept pure.’ And he gathers round him some of like persuasion and goes away to make a fresh, clean start — until the day when a like situation recurs once more, and then the process begins all over again.

Says another: ‘Here is teaching which grieves me very much and which may well show itself ultimately to be destructive of our Faith. I do not like it. I am worried by it. Then I must do all in my power to counteract it. Since my brethren who are in a better position than I to exercise a good influence do nothing about it, ought I not to withdraw for the sake of purity of the Faith? But then, there is also my responsibility to the rest who do not assess the situation as urgently as I do. These sheep, what shall they do? Have I no duty to them, to nurture and guide and warn them?’

Thus the conflict rages in the minds and hearts of faithful men. Undefiled separateness? Or love of the brethren in time of difficulty? This is the great issue. How is it to be resolved? Some have one solution, some another, and the outcome is mutual recrimination and division. Stark tragedy!

What, then, is the right way, and therefore the best way, to resolve this greatest of all spiritual contests for the loyalty of the believer? Whatever decision is reached, it is almost certain that a serious disadvantage will be involved. One evaluation, however, seems quite suitable in facilitating our choice, and this is the test of Jesus: “By their fruits ye shall know them.”

Apply this test, then, to the “purity-at-all-costs” school of thought. What fruits have been gathered from this tree? The largely unchallenged assumption that root-and-branch disfellowship en masse is demanded by the Bible has left a phenomenal trail of Christadelphian wreckage scattered across the past century. Even at the present day several small boats toss on the waves, when united effort to manage one adequate vessel and keep it seaworthy would be an obvious policy of sanity. More than this, an invariable result of every crusade of every secessionist has been a long-sustained campaign of harsh criticism and self-righteous censure against those from whom the separation has been made. “By their fruits ye shall know them!” What a contrast with Daniel who, belonging to a nation hardened in apostasy and riddled with guilt, prayed for them and for himself as though he shared their sin and their condemnation.

So the “separatist” solution has been weighed in the balances and found wanting. But the more “broad-minded” school of thought may also be lacking when “fruits” are considered, for false teachers if allowed to run wild do damage to others as well as themselves, and the lines of demarcation between Truth and Error may become blurred.

Is there an alternative to either of these extremes? As long as an ecclesia holds to a true foundation of faith, that ecclesia should not be abandoned. There may be unfaithfulness latent in any ecclesia, but if the formal basis of fellowship is sound, then as long as faithful brethren exist there, they should continue an unfaltering witness against error. This was the function of the prophets in a decadent Israel, and the counsel of the apostles to ecclesias with doctrinal and moral problems in the first century.

Such an attitude of mind and the solution here proposed can hardly be altogether satisfactory to the out-and-out idealist, but like Hezekiah he must learn to make the best of imperfect situations. The great evils are schism and apathy. Let us shun both, and choose instead the middle road, of loving, careful, unceasing entreaty and witness for truth. If we do this then we have the assurance that Hezekiah had, that God will pardon the failings of those who prepare their hearts to serve Him, even though their service may prove less than perfect.