Chrysostom
Beloved of All
The concern you lift for your wife and son carries the proper weight, for the soul’s dwelling place among the living is no small matter. Yet observe how swiftly the heart leaps to outward forms. You ask for contemporary music, for a vibrant team, for proximity. These are but the hem of the garment. The question that must grip you with trembling is this: does the teaching there cause them to fear God? For the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and wisdom is not a tune but a rending of the heart. You desire they be not deceived by compromised doctrine. This is the one thing needful. Hard, stubborn, proud sinners, sitting where the Scripture is opened with exactness, are impregnated with the fragrance of truth even against their will. The mere act of hearing, if it produces in them a groan that they do not yet obey, is no small profit. That dread is not unseasonable; it is the seed of future doing.
But take sharp heed. The apostle does not say, “Let the word of Christ be in you lightly,” nor “in some meager measure,” but dwell in you richly, with great abundance. A church that merely sprinkles Scripture while serving up a feast of human entertainment starves the soul under the pretense of a banquet. Our Lord Himself pronounced the worship vain when the doctrines taught are the commandments of men. You seek Priscilla and Aquila, a husband and wife who teach the way of God more perfectly. Good. But recall whom they instructed: Apollos, who was already mighty in the Scriptures. The sign of such a ministry is not merely sharing and caring but a faithful exposition that corrects error with courage, not a table where the world’s melodies lull the conscience to sleep. The flesh with its passions craves a style that pleases it, yet the spirit must rule. The church is the Church of God, not of this musician or that pastor. The teacher is Christ. If the music, however pleasing, serves to adorn pride rather than crucify it, you have traded the cup of the Lord for a cup of demons. How terribly Paul asks, “Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy?” Flee any fellowship where the pulpit does not shake the soul with the vision of Him who is invisible, causing the hearer to forsake Egypt and not fear the wrath of any earthly king. Seek for them a place where, upon taking the Scripture, reverence so overtakes the assembly that the conscience condemns its present life, and the Spirit, not the rhythm, seals the teaching in the heart.
But take sharp heed. The apostle does not say, “Let the word of Christ be in you lightly,” nor “in some meager measure,” but dwell in you richly, with great abundance. A church that merely sprinkles Scripture while serving up a feast of human entertainment starves the soul under the pretense of a banquet. Our Lord Himself pronounced the worship vain when the doctrines taught are the commandments of men. You seek Priscilla and Aquila, a husband and wife who teach the way of God more perfectly. Good. But recall whom they instructed: Apollos, who was already mighty in the Scriptures. The sign of such a ministry is not merely sharing and caring but a faithful exposition that corrects error with courage, not a table where the world’s melodies lull the conscience to sleep. The flesh with its passions craves a style that pleases it, yet the spirit must rule. The church is the Church of God, not of this musician or that pastor. The teacher is Christ. If the music, however pleasing, serves to adorn pride rather than crucify it, you have traded the cup of the Lord for a cup of demons. How terribly Paul asks, “Do we provoke the Lord to jealousy?” Flee any fellowship where the pulpit does not shake the soul with the vision of Him who is invisible, causing the hearer to forsake Egypt and not fear the wrath of any earthly king. Seek for them a place where, upon taking the Scripture, reverence so overtakes the assembly that the conscience condemns its present life, and the Spirit, not the rhythm, seals the teaching in the heart.
