“Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.”
Luke 12:51
G.K. Chesterton once wrote that “Christendom has had a series of revolutions and in each one of them Christianity has died.”
Christendom describes the society that has adopted Christianity as its state religion. Christendom brought marriages and funerals into the church, and turned baptism into an initiation, not so much into faith, but into society in general. Christendom formed a new priesthood—ministers to perform the acts of religion on behalf of the general populace.
Chesterton’s argument did not deny that Christianity was good for society. Contemporary historian Tom Holland has recently written of the extraordinarily positive impact that Christianity has had on forming the ethics of the West, particularly highlighting the unique emphasis on the care for the marginalised, the poor, and the weak. This ideology, he argues, is otherwise unprecedented through history.1
His argument, however, was that, when Christianity becomes institutionalised in the State, it is a death knell to the vibrancy of Christianity. When the cost of Christianity is removed, and discipleship is reduced to once a week (or less) attendance at a worship service. When Christianity becomes compromised by political correctness and the toxicity of power, the fiery beauty of the Way of Jesus is exchanged for religion that is tepid, polite and pedestrian.
Jesus’ words today seem harsh to us.
Fire. Division. Repent. Perish.
They’d have seemed harsh to His listeners too.
They might disturb us, or unsettle us, feeling these more to be the words of an angry prophet of doom—representing a God of hatred and vindictive wrath.
But this doesn’t align with all else that we know of Him. Something else is going on.
Remember the context that Jesus is speaking into.
His listeners all are Jewish. They assume that they are ‘in’. Their nation, for hundreds of years, has been formed in the rhythms of Scripture and sacrifice, psalms and laws. Their assumption is that they are united in their shared religious heritage.
Jesus’ words evict them from such apathy. To be a follower of Jesus cannot be reduced to the country in which you were born, or ticking a box on a census form. To be a follower of Jesus cannot be tamed by some vague nationalistic attachment to His Way or His cause.
Rather, He is inviting people out of every system and ideology and scheme of the world, and inviting them in to the utterly new ways and values of His Kingdom. He is inviting them out of the pedestrian and the mundanity of religion, and in to the dramatic reworking of grace. He is telling them that, to be His disciple requires a complete reorientation of the person—distinct from every Empire and State and political party and ideology of the earth—all gathered up in a person’s specific allegiance to the person and Way of Jesus the King.
Jesus’ tough words on repenting and perishing come right into this atmosphere of thought. But, again, we need to be cautious that we do not impose our own broken ideas of vindictive or petty wrath upon the God whose character is love. [1 John 4:?] Jesus, rather, is working into the fabric of our souls a new outlook on the world—where every single individual living without Him can only be on the trajectory of death. Where there is no life without repentance. Where there is no true way to flourishing outside of Him.
Let Jesus’ words disturb us today. Let them jolt us out of all that is pedestrian and tame. Let them shake us out of the folly of pluralism, and the banality of Christendom religion.
Because He is reordering the world, and He alone stands at the centre.
Chesterton’s quote goes on: “Christianity has died many times and risen again; for it had a God who knew the way out of the grave.”
Resurrection Christianity emerges from the ashes of Christendom.
Come, Lord Jesus.
Reflect:
What part of this do you find most difficult?
Where do you sense the Spirit might be stirring a clearer vision of flourishing, as wrapped around the exclusive Lordship of Jesus?
Pray:
Lord Jesus,
You could have made it more comfortable.
Your words seem harsh and jarring—
Against the comfortable ideas of pluralism,
And the tasteful words of polite conversation.
And yet, Lord,
I sense you may be inviting me to see things differently.
And so, Lord,
Send your Spirit upon me.
Take from my heart the deadness of apathy
And from my eye the log of judgmentalism,
That I may see, and know, and live, and pray from
The reality of you
As the exclusive solution and Saviour
For every broken heart.
In Your Name,
Jesus, my King.
Amen
Old Testament:
For those also reading the Old Testament this year, your additional readings are here:
Isaiah 44-45 | Psalm 82
Tom Holland: Dominion