Introduction
God’s people are often agitated about the moral,
political or even the physical state of the world, but they ought to
be much more concerned about the way things are going in the
Christian sphere. Two millennia ago, Jude wrote of how “certain men
have got in unnoticed … ungodly [persons], turning the grace of our
God into dissoluteness, and denying our only Master and Lord Jesus
Christ” (v4). It might seem remarkable that such could get into
fellowship unnoticed but they did, and the fact that they succeeded
seems to be what gives impetus and urgency to Jude’s writing to
God’s people “to contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to
the saints” (v3). Whether it was because of ignorance or apathy is
not clear, but the infiltrators and their doctrinal aberrations
ought to have been picked up immediately.
Turn over a few pages, and we read of the
Assembly in Philadelphia not only being commended for having “kept
my word” (Rev. 3: 8) but also being warned to “hold fast what thou
hast, that no one take thy crown” (v11). Holding fast is not a
passive thing: it requires energy and watchfulness. Satan knows what
he is about—he is a very patient enemy. Thus, little by little,
Biblical Christianity is disappearing, even where it once seemed to
be firmly established. Each successive generation seems to have a
feebler grasp of divine things, and one consequence is that the
defence of the faith is becoming progressively weaker. In his second
epistle to Timothy Paul writes of a time “when they will not bear
sound teaching … and will have turned aside to fables” (2 Tim. 4: 3,
4). That time has certainly come because many today are incapable of
distinguishing truth from falsehood—so great has been the drift
towards what is essentially no more than Christianised mysticism.
All this is both alarming and depressing.
However, it is not faith to withdraw in upon ourselves, comforting
our hearts with the thought that the only thing left is to look for
the return of the Lord. We have been enlisted as soldiers of Jesus
Christ (see 2 Tim. 2: 3) and are not at liberty to excuse ourselves
from the battlefield. Thus, when Jude exhorts the saints “to contend
earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints” (Jude v3),
then that is
precisely what we
must do.
Why We
Must Contend
Many Christians do not like contention, and in
their minds seem to muddle up fleshly strifes (see Gal. 5: 20) and a
spiritual contending for the faith as if they were one and the same
thing. Of course, it is a poor thing to be contentious for the sake
of it (see Titus 3: 2), but what Jude wrote about is something else
(hence the Spirit of God inspired the human authors to use quite
different Greek words). Jude speaks of contending “earnestly” (Jude
v3), because what he has in mind is not a mere intellectual dispute
but that which goes to the very core of what we are as Christians.
It is like a man defending his own home against an intruder. We
fight for the faith because it means a great deal to us. Hence Paul
exhorts Timothy to strive earnestly in “the good conflict of faith”
(1 Tim. 6: 12), and sums up his own course here as “I have combated
the good combat, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2
Tim. 4: 7). At no point was he a compromiser, and to the false
brethren in Galatia he would not yield “even for an hour, that the
truth of the glad tidings might remain with you” (Gal. 2: 5). Those
who advocate ‘going on quietly’ for the sake of peace necessarily
attach little value to what they profess to believe. Shammah was one
of David’s mighty men, but he is called such because he defended a
plot of lentils (see 2 Sam. 23: 11-12). The lesson is clear: we
ought not to surrender anything, however small—and yet how much is
sacrificed to pacify the worldly element among God’s people (as
typified by the Philistines Shammah was fighting)! Indeed, what the
spiritually ignorant judge to be inconsequential is often found, on
careful examination, to be critically important. We are in a
spiritual war of attrition, and it ought to be a source of concern
to us as to whether we are gaining or losing
any ground.
The faith that was given by the apostles to the
saints was
once for all
delivered—that is, there was to be no addition or subtraction from
it. However, within a short time of the departure of the apostles, a
significant proportion of their teaching had been abandoned, and it
was many centuries before there was any significant recovery. Sadly,
history appears to be repeating itself. Almost wherever you look,
modern-day Christianity appears to be sliding into a childish state,
with solid Bible knowledge the exception rather than the rule. All
people now desire is sufficient religious activity of a certain sort
to make them content and comfortable—they demonstrate little
interest in serious Bible study. It is little wonder that even
believers of long-standing are “tossed and carried about” (Eph. 4:
14) by whatever vagary of human thought comes their way. How much
better if they made an effort to follow the example of the first
Christians who “persevered in the teaching and fellowship of the
apostles, in breaking of bread and prayers” (Acts 2: 42). What these
put first, even in front of the apostle’s fellowship, the breaking
of bread or prayers, was the apostle’s
teaching, and it is
that teaching that is to govern and underpin the links of saints
with one another, their worship of God, and their comings together.
Ignore that order and you end up with something in which elements of
apostolic doctrine may be present, but where their teaching has been
removed from the governing position in which the Spirit of God has
placed it. It is not that fellowship, the breaking of bread or
prayers are optional or unimportant—they are clearly fundamental to
true Christianity—but how believers partake in these and other
activities must be
dictated by the
teaching. Sadly, in recent times, some who once knew better seem to
have forgotten this order. Such spiritual forgetfulness is not a
good state to be in. The writer of the Hebrews chastised those who
had “become
dull in hearing” and who, instead of being able to teach others, had
“again
need that [one] should teach you what [are] the elements of the
beginning of the oracles of God, and are become such as have need of
milk, [and] not of solid food” (Heb. 5: 11, 12, my emphasis).
Weakness or ignorance in a new convert is perfectly understandable;
the same things in a believer of long standing are shameful. If the
authority of the Bible is on the wane in the soul, it will not be
long before spiritual decline manifests itself in dullness of
understanding. God is not mocked.
The
Sword of the Spirit
This matter of our spiritual vitality cannot be
ignored for it is impossible to conduct the defence of the faith in
an unspiritual way. Though “walking in flesh, we do not war
according to flesh. For the arms of our warfare [are] not fleshly,
but powerful according to God to [the] overthrow of strongholds;
overthrowing reasonings and every high thing that lifts itself up
against the knowledge of God, and leading captive every thought into
the obedience of the Christ” (2 Cor. 10: 3-5). The Scripture just
quoted is of course not limited in its scope to contending for the
faith (all evangelistic work, for example, has the character of
spiritual warfare) but it shows the sort of weaponry that must be
used. Is it not strange then that many of those engaged in the fight
are not wholly trusting to spiritual weapons—even if they claim to
be ‘Bible-believing’ Christians? They have taken many things into
the armoury—oratory, ridicule, force of personality, the authority
of tradition, scholarship and more—but none of these advance a
spiritual conflict one inch, and confidence in them really witnesses
to a lack of confidence in God. Human reasonings can only be
overthrown and every thought brought into the obedience of the
Christ by spiritual means. It is as wearing “the panoply of
God” that we will we
be “able to withstand in the evil day, and, having accomplished all
things, to stand” (Eph. 6: 13, my emphasis).
A critical part of this armour is “the sword of
the Spirit, which is God’s word” (v 17). This is an extraordinary
weapon for “the word of God [is] living and operative, and sharper
than any two-edged sword, and penetrating to [the] division of soul
and spirit, both of joints and marrow, and a discerner of the
thoughts and intents of [the] heart” (Heb. 4: 12). How puny and
ineffective are the best human devices by comparison! However, there
is an interesting difference between Eph. 6: 17 and Heb. 4: 12.
The Greek word in Heb. 4: 12 for
word is
logos, which refers to
the total expression of a matter, while in Eph. 6: 17 it is
rhema which is more
limited and means a “saying”. Hence, Eph. 6: 17 does not refer
exactly to the Bible, but to texts within it. In that sense, the
Bible may be viewed as an armoury containing
thousands of swords.
As is well-known, the Lord Jesus, when tempted by Satan, three times
replied “it is written” (Matt. 4: 4, 7, 10)—if you are going to
refute error, then you need bring forward a specific Scripture to
meet the case.
Strange to say, on many allegedly ‘fundamental’
issues, the protagonists seem incapable of presenting plain Bible
verses. Instead they resort to highly complex interpretations of the
Scriptures that often require a chain of inter-related deductions.
Yes, Paul “reasoned … from the Scriptures” (Acts 17: 2) but the
Greek word for reason (dialegomai)
simply means intelligent discourse and has nothing to do with using
human brain power to find hidden meanings in the Word of God.
Certainly, there are many things in the
Bible “hard to be understood” (2 Pet. 3: 16), but to portray
something as ‘fundamental’ without being able to easily point to a
Scriptural justification tells its own tale. As someone once
observed, ‘cream lies on the surface’. In saying this, I do not
overlook the fact that the power of individual Scriptures can be
overstated. In using a rhema
to combat erroneous teaching account must be taken of the
logos! That not only
means that every verse must be read in context, but the subject of
which it treats must be read with an eye on all other relevant
passages—including those viewed as problematic or difficult. Of
course, some ‘proof texts’ really are worthy of the name—the message
they convey being so obvious—but most Scriptures are better viewed
as part of the body of evidence that the Bible presents. Elevating
‘favourable’ verses, and ignoring or downgrading ‘difficult’ verses
has nothing to do with contending for the faith, and simply points
to an unbalanced apprehension of the truth. The man of God will draw
upon all that
the Bible has to say on a subject. Indeed, there is great power when
multiple and varied passages can be brought forward to buttress an
argument—as in Rom. 15: 8-13.
Thoroughly Acquainted
In order to draw upon the riches of the Bible
we need to be like Timothy who from a child had “known the sacred
letters” and was “thoroughly acquainted” (2 Tim. 3: 10, 15) with
Paul’s teaching. Now there is a lot more in the latter Scripture
than might at first be apparent. In vs. 2-9 the apostle describes
the wickedness which will characterise mankind in the last days and
then addresses Timothy directly: “but
thou hast been thoroughly
acquainted with my teaching, conduct, purpose, faith, longsuffering,
love, endurance, persecutions, sufferings” (v10). There is an
intentional contrast made by Paul between himself and the men he has
previously described. What is the reason for this? It is because
Paul is a model of a completely different sort of man. Now seeing
that that the apostle regards himself as having “finished the race”
(2 Tim. 4: 7), he clearly envisages that what has characterised him
will transfer to Timothy—including the “teaching” that heads the
list. If “wicked men and juggling imposters shall advance in evil,
leading and being led astray” (2 Tim. 3: 13), Timothy, like Paul was
to be on a different course: “but
thou, abide in those
things which thou hast learned, and [of which] thou hast been fully
persuaded, knowing of whom thou hast learned [them]” (v14). Timothy
had been tremendously privileged to have been a companion of the
apostle but now he was to occupy (according to his measure) the
space that Paul had vacated. It was a formidable challenge, and, on
the subject of teaching alone, it was necessary that he had at least
“an outline of sound words, which [words] thou hast heard of me” (2
Tim. 1: 13). Not only that, but what he had received he was also to
pass on, for “the things thou hast heard of me in the presence of
many witnesses, these entrust to faithful men, such as shall be
competent to instruct others also” (2 Tim. 2: 2). The line of faith
was to be maintained.
Now this is all very interesting, but there is
a great danger of reading these Scriptures in an abstract way as if
they were merely ‘history items’. They have been preserved to
us for a reason.
Thus, when Paul says “But
thou hast been thoroughly acquainted with my teaching” (2 Tim.
3: 10), the question is forced upon you and I: ‘Have
we been similarly
“thoroughly acquainted” with the apostle’s teaching?
You cannot contend for the
faith if you do not have much of a grasp of what it is in the first
place. To emphasise this point, look at the original
language. The Greek word lying behind “thoroughly acquainted” is
parakoloutheo, which is
derived from para,
meaning beside, and
akoloutheo which means
to follow. This clearly
suggests that close attention is involved.
Parakoloutheo is only
found four times in the NT but one of those occasions is in 1 Tim.
4: 6: “nourished with the words of the faith and of the good
teaching which thou hast
fully followed up”
(my emphasis). “Thoroughly acquainted” and “fully followed up” are
terms that imply a significant level of intensity and dedication.
Seeing as we cannot interact directly with the apostle,
parakoloutheo says a lot
about the level of application required in our Bible study!
Where
Responsibility Lies
Some might try to explain all this away by saying
that Timothy had some kind of ‘official’ capacity that does not
apply to the ordinary Christian. In a certain sense, that may have
been true in the first epistle, since there he was given instruction
on the appointment of both overseers and ministers—but not in the
second for in that epistle he is simply “a good soldier of Jesus
Christ” and “a workman” (2 Tim. 2: 3, 15). Even if something is made
of the fact that in 1 Tim. 6: 11 he is addressed as a “man of God”,
the title is used only in an abstract way in 2 Tim: 3: 17 and hence
is applicable to the reader. The ‘ordinary’ Christian cannot excuse
himself from the passage.
Of course, the dominant view in the Christian
profession that the defence of the apostolic doctrine is
particularly the responsibility of those in positions of authority
in the Assembly. There is some truth in this because an elder was to
be characterised by “clinging to the faithful word according to the
doctrine taught, that he may be able both to encourage with sound
teaching and refute gainsayers” (Titus 1: 9). Furthermore, this
sound teaching was to be more than merely academic (a constant
danger) for the apostle goes on to speak of “the things that become
sound teaching”, and how these practical features “may adorn the
teaching which [is] of our Saviour God” (Titus 2: 1, 10). None of
this, however, undermines the basic truth that every believer
(according to his measure) is expected to contend for the faith.
We are all soldiers
(see 2 Tim. 2: 3). An elder, by virtue of his office, was to
“shepherd the flock of God” (1 Pet. 5: 2), and therefore had a
distinct role, but this in no way abdicates the rest of the local
assembly from the responsibility that is laid upon them.
Others take the view that there are no elders
today—but there really is no basis for this, even though the
authority to appoint such is lacking. Paul writes to the
Thessalonians that they were “to know those who labour among you,
and take the lead among you in [the] Lord” (1 Thess. 5: 12) where
the word know has the
force of discern.
Possibly the difficult early history of that assembly had prevented
elders being appointed, but that does not mean that those possessing
the moral qualities necessary to exercise oversight were not already
present and perceived by the spiritual. All gatherings of saints
ought to have persons of weight and experience marked out as
clinging to the faithful word, “sober, grave, discreet, sound in
faith, in love, in patience” (Titus 2: 2)—and older women too as
“teachers of what is right”, admonishing the young women in their
behaviour “that the word of God may not be evil spoken of” (vs. 3,
5). What we see instead in some quarters are men (and women) of grey
hairs sitting quietly by while the apostolic faith is watered
down—either under the plea of maintaining unity or of making things
more attractive to outsiders. Such a situation is shameful.
None of us can abdicate our personal
responsibility as individual believers and ‘leave it to others’,
however more qualified than ourselves they may be. When Jude writes
exhorting his readers to “contend earnestly for the faith once
delivered to the saints” (Jude v3), his exhortation is not addressed
to a select group. Certainly, that faith had been delivered to the
saints by a special class (the “apostles and prophets”—Eph. 2: 20),
but when it comes to its defence then all who believe must involve
themselves. Jude writes simply “to the called ones beloved in God
[the] Father and preserved in Jesus Christ” (Jude v1). Are you a
called one? Then you have an obligation to take your place in the
battle for the faith.
Conclusion
So how are things with the reader in terms of
the task set before him? Is he pressing on, striving “earnestly [in]
the good conflict of faith” (1 Tim. 6: 12)? Or has he become too
entangled “with the affairs of life” (2 Tim. 2: 4) to give divine
things the attention that they deserve? Christianity (at least in
the western world) needs to face up to the fact that it is in a
fight—a fight for survival no less. Anyone that imagines that this
kind of warfare is ‘not for him’ is living in a fantasy world. We
are either walking in self-will and self-indulgence or we are on
active service as good soldiers of Jesus Christ, contending for the
faith once delivered to the saints. As the Lord Himself said, “why
call ye me, Lord, Lord, and do not the things that I say?” (Luke 6:
46).
