Broken Fellowship
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“Jesus tarried behind in Jerusalem; and Joseph and his mother knew not of it...supposing him to have been in the company, went a day’s journey.” —Luke 2:43–44
This is a precious portion of Scripture, if for no other reason than that it furnishes the only bit of authentic information concerning the life of Jesus from his infancy to the beginning of His ministry. Sometimes we refer to “the eighteen silent years” of His life, but as a matter of fact, apart from the record of this one event, there are thirty silent years.
Probably all of us have been more or less curious as to the habits of His boyhood, and the later years of His manhood, but “it hath not pleased the Lord to reveal” anything concerning these days, and of course there is wisdom in the Divine silence. Had it been good for us to know, the record would have been given.
This silence, concerning all these years, adds to the significance of this particular record that has been written with such a wealth of detail. It is evident that “these things were written for our instruction.”
As we read the story, we are impressed with the striking analogy between the attitude of Joseph and His mother, and their consequent experiences, and the attitude and consequent experiences of many Christians today.
There are two main thoughts I wish to emphasize: First, An Interrupted Fellowship; and second, Broken Fellowship Renewed.
An Interrupted Fellowship
“They, supposing him to have been in the company, went a day’s journey.” There are two links that bind the believer to his precious Lord: A—The Link of Life; B—The Link of Fellowship.
The Link Of Life
This can never be broken “He giveth his sheep eternal life and they shall never perish.” No man can pluck them out of His hand.
When we receive Him as Savior, He not only gives us the privilege of sonship, but also the spirit of sonship, “whereby we cry, Abba, Father,” and we “are made partakers of the Divine nature” and made “members of His body.” “He that is joined to the Lord is one spirit.”
The new birth is a reality; eternal life means life for all eternity.
The Link Of Fellowship
This may be broken, as it was in the case of Jospeh and His mother, and, alas! It has been in our own experience only too frequently.
You have found, as I surely have, that it is so easy to drift and almost unconsciously lose the hallowed, bright, living fellowship with Him that may have been our blessed experience yesterday.
Sometimes, like Peter, we walk a long way off, and reach the place where we may deny Him; not necessarily with “oaths and curses,” but it may be in the habits of our living, or it may be in disobedience to the revealed will of God. “If we say that we have fellowship with Him and walk in darkness (disobedience), we lie, and do not the truth.” It is only as “we walk in the light, as He is in the light,” that we have fellowship with Him.
It was through carelessness that Mary and Joseph lost him. They rested on supposition.
I am afraid a great many of God’s children live their Christian lives in this same sphere. We cannot afford to suppose we must be certain that we are with Him. We must make sure of Him, and this certainty comes through the devotional reading of His Word, and personal, private prayer. If we neglect these great essentials, we shall take many a journey without Him.
The danger of broken fellowship is surely emphasized in the fact that Mary, His precious mother, who sustained such a blessed relationship to the Christ, went a day’s journey without Him.
We are reminded of Paul’s admonition—“Let him that thinketh he standeth, take heed...” for the most unlikely person in the world to lose Him was Mary, yet this was her experience. As someone has remarked, “She lost Him in the most unlikely place; not at a theater, or a divorce court, a bar room, or a dance hall, but in the temple, as we may lose Him in the church, while busy with religious ceremonies and things. It is not only in the world of sin and shame that our Lord is dishonored and grieved, but also in the assembly of the saints, “in the house of his friends,” He is wounded again and again.
A friend of mine, who is a professor of Old Testament history in a leading university, was telling me some little time ago, of an experience he had that illustrates this solemn truth.
He had been invited to preach in a city, not so very far from Chicago. Years before, he had supplied that pulpit, and knew many in the congregation quite well. He anticipated meeting an old friend, who was noted for his love of God’s house and his loyalty to the truth. In looking over the congregation, he was disappointed, for that friend was absent.
At the close of the service, he inquired of the pastor regarding this brother, and was informed that he did not attend the services any more. He could not understand this, so after having lunch in the hotel, he called upon the brother in his home.
He was received very graciously. There was something about that reception that made my friend feel that his friend was not a backslider. On expressing surprise at not seeing him at the morning service, he replied, “Oh, I never attend that church any more. I had to make my choice between attending and losing my grip on God.” Then he told of how the preacher criticized God’s precious word Sunday after Sunday, even to the point of ridicule. I am afraid that a great many “have lost their grip on God” for this reason.
But, my dear people, it is not always Higher Criticism in the pulpit that makes the trouble, but it is quite frequently the lower criticism of the pew that grieves the Holy Spirit and breaks the bonds of fellowship.
Oh! The harm that comes to the cause of Christ, the hearts that are hurt, and the people that are driven from the church, through unchristian criticism and unholy gossip, and foolish talking and jesting. After forty years in the ministry, I want to say that this kind of sin brings more dissension and division in the body of Christ, and more dishonor to His precious name, than any other enemy or form of evil. I am sure that every true pastor can appreciate Paul’s admonition on grieving the Holy Spirit: “Let all bitterness and wrath and clamor (loud talking) and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice; and be kind one to another, tender hearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.”
If this tender, considerate, forgiving spirit prevailed in the church, the very atmosphere would be surcharged with the sense of the Divine presence, and we would “keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace.”
Yes, just as Mary lost Him in the temple, so we may lose Him in the church. Even while preaching about Him, we have been conscious, at times, that He was not there. Grieved with some bitter word, harsh criticism, unscriptural judgment of our brother, or some foolish joke, the sense of the Divine presence has been withdrawn.
A brother was telling me the other day of how he had recently listened to one who, some years ago, was considered a mighty preacher and teacher. “But,” said my friend, “I could not think of anything but Samson, shorn of his strength, as I listened to the same sermon that I had heard before; the same illustrations that had moved the hearts of the people deeply. Something has happened in that life, the dynamite has gone out of it. It was just like cold hash.”
I am afraid that too often this judgment must be passed upon many of us preachers. Equipped with old sermon matter, past experiences of blessing, or because we are Fundamentalists and believe the Bible “from cover to cover,” we suppose He is with us. Orthodoxy is terrible, dry, and very, very cold within the Spirit. The presence of Christ gives unction and tenderness.
I heard of a great pianist, who stated to his friends that he practiced eight hours a day. When they expressed surprise that one so proficient as he should need so much practice, he said:
“If I miss one day, I know it;
“If I miss two days, my friends know it;
“If I miss three days, all the world knows it.”
Is it not true in the spiritual life that when we have gone “a day’s journey” without Him, we know it? That is the time that we, like Mary, should turn back and make sure of His presence.
Let me ask you a question; have you met Him today? Has there been a vital contact? Has He touched your life?
A skeptic asked a Christian if he believed in God. “Oh, yes, of course I do; I was talking with Him this morning.”
You see, fellowship with Jesus was a very real thing to this brother. Prayer, to him, meant talking with God, and this is our blessed privilege; yea, this is our great need. If we fail to meet him daily at the Throne of Grace, we fail in our lives, in our treatment of each other, and in our duty to the church. It will be difficult to shake the faith of anyone who, like John, can say, “Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with His Son, Jesus Christ.”
Hold Thou my hand, and closer, closer, draw me
To Thy dear self—my hope, my joy, my all;
Hold Thou my hand, lest haply I should wander,
And, missing Thee, my trembling feet should fall.
Broken Fellowship Renewed
“It came to pass, after three days, they found him.” As soon as they became conscious of the fact that he was not with them, they confessed their loss. This is the first step to a restored fellowship. We must acknowledge that the link has been broken, and then turn back, yes, turn back, go over the very road that led us away from Him, to the very place where we last met Him, for it is only there that we will find Him.
The prodigal in the 15th of Luke came into the Father’s fellowship again at the very place where he last saw him. It was in the far country that he said, “I will arise and go to my father,” but there was no fellowship until he got back to the place of separation.
“It came to pass, that after three days they found him in the temple.” That is just where they saw Him last.
A missionary, whom I know quite well, tells of a difference with some of the workers on another station, and how she wrote a hasty letter (hasty letters are generally hot) filled with unkind and cutting sarcasm. It seemed, as she wrote, that she was relieving her provoked soul, and she was relieving herself on the vindictiveness, but also of the sweet sense of the Spirit’s presence. After mailing that letter, a great darkness settled down on her soul. She tried to “pray it through,” but it would not pray. The Spirit was not helping her to make intersession. She had taken a “journey” without Him. The bitterness that dropped from her pen had shocked and grieved the tender, gentle Christ, and she knew it.
God gave her grace to go back to the same desk, and with the same pen, and the same ink, write an apology, and ask forgiveness; and lo! He was there at that place where she left Him.
It may be this morning, that some who are crying out for the fulness of the blessing, may have to write a letter, or take a journey to some home—leave their gift here at the altar—while they ask the forgiveness of the one they have aught against or maybe the one who has aught against them. No amount of praying can take the place of confession and apology, when a wrong should be righted by a frank confession.
He Went With Them
When they had found Him, He went with them down to Nazareth right back over the same dreary road they had traveled before, right back to the same old town, with the same hum-drum difficulties, and how hum-drum the whole would have been had He not been with them. But His presence makes our paradise, and where he dwells is heaven.
A few Sundays ago, I was speaking to you about the miraculous draft of fish, and this point was in that story also. They had toiled all night and taken nothing, but when Jesus was with them and commanding, in that same boat, on the same sea, with the same net, they took a multitude of fishes. You see the difference is between having Him with us, and have Him not.