Then Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak . . .
And the man said, “Let me go, for the dawn is breaking.”
But Jacob said, “I will not let you go unless you bless me.”
(Genesis 32:24-32)
Then they sent out Barnabas as far as Antioch,
who, when he had arrived and seen the grace of God,
was glad; and he exhorted them all, that with purpose of heart
they should cleave to the Lord.
(Acts 13:22-23)
A few years back, while making my way through the gospels, I began to notice something interesting: Over and again I was coming upon Christ in the midst of this, that, or the other thing. And so, like Moses of old, I decided to turn aside and see this great sight: the various ways in which God had placed his Son in the midst, and the lessons we might learn from them.
Here is something of what I saw.
I. Seeing Christ in the Midst
As a boy, Jesus was accidentally separated from his father and mother during the Passover observances in Jerusalem. When the distraught parents finally found him, there he was, seated in the temple, in the midst of the scribes and Pharisees, all of whom were marveling at his wisdom (Luke 2:46). Pondering this, I saw that God would have us emulate those Jewish leaders, especially since, even now Christ is teaching in the temple daily (Luke 19:47; 22:43-45; John 16:13).
As a grown man, the Lord embarked on an evangelistic ministry to his fellow Israelites, proclaiming the good news of the nearness of the Kingdom, and calling all to repentance and faith him. In partial fulfillment of that ministry, God granted that he should perform miraculous signs and wonders in their midst (Acts 2:22). Reflecting on this, we soon realize that Christ has never ceased to perform such wonders, though in our time his miracles are primarily spiritual, yet far more numerous and far greater in importance than the physical (John 14:12; 1 Cor. 15:46).
When teaching his disciples about prayer, the Lord told them that where two or three are gathered in his name, there he is in the midst of them (Matt. 18:20). This teaches us to prioritize prayer with the family of God, and also to seek the Spirit’s gift of agreement in prayer, so that we may not enjoy only a richer sense of the Lord’s presence, but also faith-building answers to our requests (Matt. 18:19-20; Acts 4:23-31; 1 John 5:14).
The apostle John relates that in the midst of the Feast of Tabernacles Jesus went up into the temple courts and began to teach the people, after which he cried out to them, offering his Jewish kinsmen the true water of life, typified by the water that Moses gave to God’s people during their wilderness wanderings (Num. 20:1-8; John 7:14). Here we learn that Christ dwells not only in the midst of the Feast of Tabernacles as its true meaning and fulfillment, but also in the midst of all the other Jewish feasts. And if we listen carefully as he teaches in the temple daily, we will find, to our great joy, that Christ is in the midst of all those other feasts as well (Col. 2:16).
Later on, the same apostle tells us that when the last of the convicted scribes and Pharisees had slunk away, Jesus and the woman caught in adultery were left alone in the midst: presumably of a large crowd which had seen, heard, and (in some cases) been stung by his wisdom, compassion, and mercy. (John 8:9). Here we learn that not only the Lord, but also the world itself, is always watching to see how we will relate to sinners: whether in a proud, legal spirit that is eager to mete out judgment, or in a humble, gracious spirit that is eager to mete out mercy and grace, albeit never at the expense of truth or holiness (John 8:1-11; 2 Tim. 2:24-26)
On the Mount of Transfiguration—where Peter, James, and John received a sneak preview of the Kingdom of God when it shall have come in power—the radiant Christ once again appeared in the midst, this time between Moses and Elijah. The former represented the Law, the latter the Prophets, the two together the entire body of OT revelation. Accordingly, when Peter sought to treat them as equals by making similar tents for all three, God swiftly disabused him of the idea, declaring to the terrified disciples, “This is My beloved Son, my chosen One. Listen to Him!” (Luke 9:34–36). Here we learn that the Lord Jesus, under a many-colored garment of types and shadows, is the true center and meaning of the entire OT; that he alone can open up that meaning to us; and that we should therefore diligently listen to him; and especially in the New Testament, where, by the illuminating work of his Spirit, he himself gives us the keys to the Old (Luke 24:44-45; John 5:39; 2 Cor. 3:12-18).
When he was brought to trial before his enemies—Caiaphas, Annas, Pilate, Herod, and the Roman cohort—the Lord stood in their midst with quiet strength and dignity, speaking, testifying, and/or holding his peace as his Father led, and all the while humbly submitting to whatever evil-doings God himself had fore-ordained to occur (Isaiah 53:7; Matt. 26:47-27:31; Acts 4:27-38). Here we learn, viscerally, that in the midst of inevitable persecutions, God himself will be present in the midst of his people, guarding them against fear, anger, hatred, threats, and vilification, but instead, by his Spirit, supplying all needed strength, courage, self-control, wisdom, love, mercy, and grace (Acts 7:54-60; Rom. 12:14-20; 1 Peter 2:21-25; Rev. 1:9).
When the mockery of a trial—and the trials of mockery—had all run their course, the Roman authorities nailed Jesus to a cross, and two other criminals with him: one on either side, and Jesus in the midst (John 19:18). And though both criminals, at the outset, vilified him, one of the two—having observed the Lord’s faith and marveled at his sayings—suddenly caught a glimpse of who he really was. And so—moved by gifts of illumination, penitence, and grace—he made his humble request: “Jesus, remember me when you come again in your royal power” (Luke 23:42). And he was heard. From this we learn that the crucified Christ—like the God-imbued pillar that stood by night between Pharaoh’s army and the Israelite nation at the Red Sea—is light, hope, and salvation to all who are graced to see and believe, but darkness, foolishness, and death to all who are not (Ex. 14:1-19; John 7:43; 9:16; 10:19; 2 Cor. 2:14-17). For which reason, we also learn to worship the Lord with fear, rejoice with trembling, and cling to him with purpose of heart (Psalm 2:11; Acts 13:22-23).
After his resurrection, the Lord appeared, not once, but several times, in the midst of his disciples (Luke 24:36; John 20:19, 26). Thus did he teach us to expect him to be present and active in our gatherings, but never to be like doubting Thomas, who missed the precious appearing because of stubborn unbelief (John 20:26-29).
After the Lord’s ascension, God granted his exiled apostle a stupendous vision of the glorified Christ standing in the midst of seven golden candlesticks and walking about among them (Rev. 1:13, 2:1). Here again we learn that, by his Spirit, the Head of the universal Church is present and active in every one of its local incarnations, lovingly inspecting, commending, encouraging, exhorting, warning, and issuing promises to every member who names his name, even to those who (thus far) have refused to let him in (Rev. 3:20). Knowing this, both leaders and laity are exhorted to believe in his presence, listen for his voice, and faithfully love, serve, and purify the Church that Christ purchased with his own blood (Acts 20:17-31; Rev. 5:9).
In a subsequent vision of heaven above, John saw a Lamb, as if previously slain, standing in the midst, between the 24 elders and the throne of God (Rev. 5:6). Here we are taught to behold—and fully to trust—the one Mediator between God and man: the God-man, Jesus Christ, whose finished work on earth purchased the salvation of his people; who, as the High King of heaven, administers that salvation to his people; and who, as the High Priest of heaven, ever lives to make intercession for his people, thereby anchoring them securely in heaven above (John 6:40; 10:16; 1 Tim. 2:5; Heb. 7:25; Rev. 21:1-4).
Finally, Scripture also reveals that on the day of his return—when the heavens and the earth shall flee for safety from before his face—Christ will be seated on his throne in the midst of the physical universe itself, and also in between the sheep and the goats, there to judge the world in righteousness, turn the rebellious into Gehenna, recreate the cosmos, and descend with his beloved Bride to a regenerated earth, where, together with the Father, the Spirit, and all the holy angels, he and she will forever dwell in the midst of a glorious new world to come (Matt. 24:29–31; Rev. 20:11–15, 21:1-26).
II. Placing Christ in the Midst
It is clear that in all these biblical scenes depicting Christ in the midst, our heavenly Father is speaking to us. He is bidding us to stop, draw near, ponder, and inquire. Happily, in still other portions of his Word he gives us further light, revealing that it belongs essentially to his eternal will of purpose for the universe that his beloved Son should be in the midst—at the absolute center—of all things. And there is more. For it is God’s will of purpose for the universe that determines his will of precept for the lives of his children. In other words, as we ourselves become aware of God’s eternal purpose and plans, it will only be natural for us—both in our personal and corporate Christian experience—to place and keep the Lord Jesus Christ at the center of all things.
In what follows, I want to touch briefly on five such things.
First, our heavenly Father desires that Christ should dwell at the center of our being.
This was God’s purpose from the beginning. Throughout the probation in Eden, he offered eternal life to Adam and his seed. Adam had only to partake of the fruit of the Tree of Life, and the Son of God, by the Spirit of God, would have taken up residence, once and for all, in his heart; that is, at the center of his being. The Son would then have become Head and Ruler over all, working in and through the growing family of man to fulfill his Father’s manifold historical purposes for the race, doing so until that happy day when he (the Son) would glorify the world and deliver up the eternal kingdom to his Father, so that God might be all in all (Hab. 2:14; Eph. 1:10; Rom. 8:18-25; 1 Cor. 15:20-28; Col. 3:4).
But it was not to be. There came the fall, and with the fall, the fall of all human hearts, which became hearts of stone; hearts dead in trespasses and sins; hearts under the dominion of the world, the flesh, and the devil; and hearts in desperate need of redemption: rescue from the manifold consequences of sin, and restoration to God’s Christ-centered purpose for the universe, life, and man (Ezek. 36:26; Mark 7:20-22; Eph. 2:1-3).
But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more. Through the redemptive work of the last Adam, the sinful work of the first Adam was overcome, and the purpose of God for his creation reclaimed and restored. Therefore, by receiving the Spirit of Christ into our midst, we now may have hearts of flesh; hearts alive to God; hearts resting comfortably under the dominion of the High King of heaven; hearts ushered—gratefully, gladly, and worshipfully—into the presence of his God and Father; and hearts eagerly waiting for that happy day when Christ will come again; when all things will indeed be fully headed up under him; when the whole earth will be filled with the glory of the Lord; and when the Lord of glory delivers up the glorified kingdom—the redeemed universe, life, and man—to his heavenly Father, so that God may be all in all (Matt. 13:38-43; Rom. 8:18-25; 1 Cor. 15:20-29).
This cosmic miracle, which began on Pentecost, begins afresh each time a sinner is born from above, beholds his need, cries out to Christ for mercy and life, and receives him as Lord into his heart: into his very midst (John 1:12; Acts 2:1-47; Rom. 10:5-13). It progresses as the life of Christ radiates outward from his midst, ever-increasingly pervading each faculty, inclination, thought, word, and deed. And it culminates at Christ’s return, when the life and light in each saint flares up into glory, and henceforth comes to dwell at the center of all things: when Christ, in glory, is fully set in the midst of the universe, life, and man (Matt. 5: 14-15; 6:22; Phil. 2:15; Rev. 21:23-24; 22:5).
Secondly, our heavenly Father desires that Christ should dwell at the center of our worldview.
The Spirit of Christ in the midst of human hearts entails the Spirit of Christ in the midst of all human faculties, including our understanding. And since it has pleased our Father to place Christ in the midst of his eternal purposes and plans, we who have received the Spirit of the Father must steadfastly watch for him to work—and diligently work with him—at placing Christ in the midst of our understanding of his purposes and plans. In other words, God calls us to co-labor with him so that Jesus Christ, ever-increasingly, may lie at the heart of our worldview.
What exactly is a world-view? After pondering that question for many years, I have concluded that a worldview consists of the answers we give to nine God-implanted questions of life: (1) What is the ultimate reality, the source of the universe and all that is in it? (2) What is the origin of the universe, life, and man—and of any other worlds or dimensions that may exist? (3) Do the universe, life, and man have a purpose or meaning, and if so, what is it? (4) What, if anything, went wrong? Why are evil, suffering, and death so painfully present in the world? (5) What, if anything, can be done about them, and by whom must it be done? (6) How shall we live? What, if any, are the proper motives and standards of conduct for men and nations? (7) What happens when we die? (8) Where is history heading? Does the universe have a goal or destiny, and if so, what is it? (9) Can we know with assurance the true answers to the questions of life, and if so, how? Over and again in their quest for religious and philosophical truth, men and nations have sought (and often invented) answers to these nine existentially urgent questions of life.1
Now, recall for a moment the miracle of healing that Jesus performed upon a certain blind man from Bethsaida. After taking him outside the town, he stood the man before him, spat into eyes, and asked him, “Do you see anything?” The man replied, “I know I’m seeing men, because they look like walking trees!” So Jesus again ministered to him, this time placing his hands on the blind man’s eyes, so that now he was completely healed and could see all things clearly (Mark 8:22-36).
This, metaphorically speaking, is the story of every Christian’s worldview. Our new spiritual life began with a gift of seeing, so that suddenly we beheld, with a saving measure of clarity, the Person and Work of Christ, and their implications for our life. But from the very beginning we also saw that we were only seeing in part; that what we were seeing, we only were seeing dimly, and that many other things we were not seeing at all. This fact of spiritual life—this partial blindness—gave birth to a great longing for further healing, broader vision, and clearer sight, all of which we knew were waiting for us in the Word of God. And so—in time, through prayer, by persistent meditation upon the Scriptures, and by the illuminating work of the Spirit—the Lord satisfied our longing, so that now we can indeed see all things clearly (and yet are longing for further clarity still).
The “all things” we are given to see include, very prominently, the answers to the nine questions of life. Indeed, as we are drawn deeply into the thought-world of the Bible, we soon realize that here our heavenly Father has graciously addressed each and every one of them, and that his answers comprise the sum and substance of his great revelation to the world.
But more than that, we also realize that he has set the Person and Work of his Son in the midst of each and every one of them.
Such seeing has begotten millennia of theological reflection, with the teachers of the Church probing and placarding the various ways in which Jesus Christ dwells in the midst: (1) of the ultimate reality, as the One in the midst of Father-Son-Holy Spirit; (2) of the origin of the universe, life, and man, as the One through whom they all were created; (3) of the purpose of the universe, life, and man, as the One for whom they were created; (4, 5) of the redemption of a world given over to evil, suffering, and death through the sinful work of the first Adam, as the One who in time would rescue and restore it through his own righteous work as the Last Adam; (6) of the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus, as the One through whom blessed obedience to this Law is now possible, offered, commanded, and proclaimed in the gospel; (7) of the truth about the afterlife, as the One who revealed both heaven and hades, opened heaven to us, and (with the Father and the Spirit) is heaven’s chief’s chief joy; (8) of the truth about the goal of universal history, as the One who, at his coming, will be the divine agent of the entire Consummation: the Resurrection, the Judgment, and the creation of a glorious new World to Come; (9) and of the definitive revelation of God’s answers to the questions of life, as the One through whom the answers were given, by whose Spirit they are illuminated, and of whose Person and Work the New Testament writers made as much as they possibly could (Luke 24:13-49; Acts 2:14-36; 1 Cor. 2:1-2).
In sum, by giving us the answers to the questions of life, our heavenly Father has given us the one true world-view. And when we no longer see men like walking trees, but see all things clearly, we also see that Jesus Christ lives and shines in the midst of them all.
Thirdly, our heavenly Father desires that Christ should dwell at the center of our affections.
When Christ comes to dwell in our midst, his life not only suffuses and transforms our understanding, but also our affections. To the stone-hearted Pharisees, Jesus said, “I know you, that you do not have the love of God within you,” and, “If God were your Father, you would love me, for I went forth from God, and now am present among you” (John 5:42, 8:42). Those who are granted a new heart of flesh also receive a new set of master passions, a new set of loves (Ezek. 36:25-27; 2 Cor. 3:2-4; 5:14).2
But is it really true that our heavenly Father wants his Son to be the absolute center of our affections, the master passion of our master passions? For those who love the triune God, this affirmation will seem problematic, since, being equally divine, all three Persons of the Trinity are equally worthy of our affection.
And yet Scripture itself points in this direction, suggesting, first of all, that even within the ontological trinity (i.e., the trinity viewed as it exists in itself, without reference to the work of each Person in creation and redemption) the Son, in important ways, is central. For on the one hand, we learn that the Father eternally begets, knows, loves, and delights in him (who is the very image of the Father); while on the other hand, we learn that the Spirit eternally proceeds from both the Father and the Son, and is, as it were, consecrated to a blessed contemplation (and revelation) of the relations, affections, purposes, and plans obtaining between those two (John 1:18; 15:26; 14:16-18; 1 Cor. 2:6-13; Gal. 4:6).
More to the point, Scripture is quite explicit that in the economy of creation and redemption the Father desires all his human creatures to love and honor the Son, just as they honor him, and so has bestowed upon him all manner of divine prerogatives; while the Spirit, in much the same way, inclines those same creatures to glorify the Son, seeing that Son alone is the appointed mediator and treasure-trove of all the gifts, graces, and blessings that the Father has in store for fallen mankind (John 5:23, 6:27, 16:13-15; 1 Cor. 1:30; Col. 1:15-20; 2:3; Heb. 1:1-4).
Naturally enough, then—and for many practical reasons—the exalted Christ becomes the center of the Christian’s affections. It is to him that the Father and the Spirit first drew us (John 6:44; 16:8-11). It was in him and in his work that we first beheld the glory of God (John 12:32; 16:5-11; 2 Cor. 4:6), and tasted and saw that the Lord is good (1 Peter 2:3). It was he who became our first love, though not, by any means, our only love (Rev. 2:4). And in the mysterious rhythms of our new life in the triune godhead, it is to him that the Father and the Spirit return us again and again for fresh infusions of divine life (Matt. 11:27; 17:5; John 4:10; 5:39; 6:45).
The eye that is fixed on Christ—the author and perfecter of our faith—will behold the Father and the Spirit as well (Matt. 11:27-28; Heb. 12:2). The heart that is fixed on Christ—humbly, prayerfully, needily cultivating a deeper and deeper affection for him—will, in like manner, come to love the Father, the Spirit, the saints, the holy angels, and the world of lost sinners (Matt. 11:27; John 3:16; Acts 2:33; Gal. 4:6; 1 Thess. 4:9). As Christ dwells at the center of our affections, we will watch in wonder, gratitude, and joy as the circumference of our affections continually expands, radiating upward and outward so as to include all things (1 Cor. 3:22-23). Let us, therefore, most heartily resolve never to depart from our first love, but instead to nourish it daily through prayer, Bible meditation, thanksgiving, praise, adoration, and implicit obedience to all the Lord’s wise commands, which are not burdensome, but which, through obedience, carry us into presence and purposes of his God and Father (Psalm 63:8; Matt. 11:29; John 14:15; 20:17).3
Fourthly, our heavenly Father desires that Christ should dwell at the center of our worship.
By worship I mean the full round of callings proper to the Church Militant as she makes her pilgrim way through the wilderness of the present evil age to the Promised Land; the full spectrum of spiritual sacrifices—ministries—by which God’s holy priesthood demonstrates the surpassing worth that she attaches to her triune Creator, Redeemer, and Lord (1 Peter 2:4-6).
These ministries—or forms of worship—fall nicely into three basic categories: upward, inward, and outward.
Upward ministry is largely conducted in our personal devotions, small group gatherings, and all-church worship on the Lord’s Day, and is directed to God above. On the one hand, it consists of expressions of thanksgiving, praise, and adoration; on the other, of various petitions directed to the Fountain of all mercy, wisdom, healing, strength, life, and joy. By its very nature, such ministry is Christ-centered, for the Holy Spirit, seeking to align the saints with the essence of New Testament revelation, continually reminds them that God’s supreme gift—his uniquely-begotten Son—is also the One in and through whom all of heaven’s gifts are made available to us (John 4:10; 6:27; 1 Cor. 1:29-31; 2 Cor. 9:15; Col. 2:3). Just as the saints cannot have the Father without having the Son, so too they cannot worship the Father without worshiping the Son, and without coming to the Father through the Son (John 14:6; 1 John 5:12).
Revelation 5—a text that vividly depicts the eternal, Christ-centered worship of all God’s holy ones—embodies this truth and makes it plain:
Then I looked, and I heard the voice of many angels around the throne, and the voice of the living creatures and the elders. And in number the angels were myriads of myriads, and thousands of thousands; and with a loud voice they all were saying, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and praise!” And I heard every created thing in heaven and on the earth and under the earth and on the sea—and all that is within them—saying, “To the One who is seated upon the throne, and to the Lamb, be praise and honor and glory and dominion forever and ever!” And the four living creatures kept on saying, “Amen!” And the elders fell down and worshiped. – Revelation 5:11-14
Here we see that the worship of heaven is not exclusively of Christ, nor even primarily of Christ; but it is indeed centered on Christ, having been purchased by Christ, and ever after being offered through Christ.
Inward ministry consists of spiritual ministry flowing down from heaven, through the saints, and into the Church. It is rightly considered a species of worship since those who engage in it demonstrate the great worth they attach to God’s people, and God’s great purpose for his people: that he, through the exercise of spiritual gifts given to them, might edify, sanctify, and (ultimately) glorify the Body and Bride of Christ (Rom. 12:1-8; 1 Cor. 14:26; Eph. 4:11-13).
When we carefully consider this form of worship, we soon realize that it too is profoundly Christ-centered. For in the end, the thrust of all God’s spiritual gifts is to direct (or, if need be, re-direct) believers to the all-sufficient treasury-chest that is Jesus Christ. Why? So that Christ may be formed in each one (Gal. 4:19); so that each one may be transformed by the renewing of his mind, and conformed to the image of Christ (Rom. 8:29; 12:1-2); so that in that day, when the Church is revealed in glory, all will see that she is indeed the very Body (and Bride) of the glorified Christ, the fullness of him who fills all in all (Eph. 1:23; Col. 3:1-2).
In the final chapters of the Revelation we learn that the Body and Bride of Christ will be the Lamp of the world to come; the light that gives light to all; the light that lives and shines at the heart of all things (Rev. 21:23). In the exercise of every spiritual gift—in the performance of every act of inward worship—we do well to keep this in mind, and therefore to travail until Christ is further formed in all, his glory further imparted to all, and his glory further flowing through all (John 17:24; Gal. 4:19; Phil. 2:15).
Outward ministry, like inward, also flows down from heaven and through the Church, but this time out into the world of our unbelieving neighbors. It too is an act of worship, since it reflects the immeasurable value that our heavenly Father attaches to the lives of all his image-bearers; but more than that, the immeasurable value that both he and the Church attach to the saving knowledge of God, offered to the whole world in the gospel of Christ.
This gospel—including the verbal proclamation by which the Holy Spirit administers it to beloved sinners (and saint)—is altogether Christ-centered. In the words of the apostle Paul, the Church Militant is evangelistically “. . . separated to the gospel of God, which he promised beforehand through his prophets in the Holy Scriptures, and which centers around his Son” (Rom. 1:1-4). As the saints reach out, it is Christ’s love that they desire their neighbors to experience, Christ’s truth that they desire their neighbors to receive, and Christ’s Person that they desire their neighbors to meet (John 1:12; 2 Cor. 5:20-21; Col. 1:28; Rev. 22:17).
Notably, we observe this same Christ-centeredness in the redemptive work of each Person of the Holy Trinity, all of whom co-labor to bring God’s people to faith. The Father draws all (his children) to Christ (John 6:44), the Son brings all (his sheep) to Christ (John 10:16), and the Holy Spirit convicts all sinners of their need for Christ (John 3:5-8; 12:32; 16:8-11).
Not all Christians will have a gift of evangelism, but all Christians, by God’s grace, will have savingly beheld the Son and believed on him (John 6:20). And all Christians, by God’s good providence, will have precious opportunities to testify about what they have seen (Luke 21:12-15; Acts 1:8; Rev. 12:17). Such testimony—such outward ministry—will be deeply Christ-centered: inspired by Christ, filled with Christ, leading to Christ. It is a wise disciple who is intent on keeping it that way (1 Cor. 2:1-5; Rev. 19:10).
Finally, our heavenly Father desires that Christ should dwell at the center of the Church’s quest for spiritual unity.
The prototype of this unity is the unity obtaining between the three Persons of Trinity, a unity that and is grounded in a common essence, nature, and glory, and that manifests itself in a perfect harmony of affection, thought, word, and deed. For the Church Militant—which, according to a wise decree, is appointed to wrestle with residual indwelling sin—such unity is both a desideratum and a destiny. By his will of precept, God commands us to seek it; by his will of purpose, he has ordained that one day we will shall attain it (Eph. 4:1-16).
But how, exactly, shall we attain it? What is the God-ordained method for advancing most swiftly towards this much-cherished goal? In the New Testament, God answers fulsomely.
First, Christians must recognize that because of the grace of the new birth, they already are one with each other, seeing that they share a common faith in Christ, and a common nature with Christ. All have heard the gospel, all have received illumination, all (in shock and dismay) have beheld their sin, all have fled to Christ in repentance and faith, all have received him, and all are now indwelt by his Spirit. This common experience of Christ, resulting in an eternal union with Christ, is the ground of our present unity in Christ. All this and more the apostle had in mind when he wrote, “For by one Spirit we all were baptized into one body, whether Jews or Greeks, whether slaves or free; and we all were made to drink of one Spirit” (1 Cor. 12:13). Wander where we will, a meeting with a born-again believer swiftly produces a sense of koinonia: of spiritual communion with one another, due to a shared communion with Christ (1 John 1:1-4).
But secondly, Christians must understand that the new birth is also the basis for that more perfect unity to which—in the midst of the scandal of their manifold divisions—they henceforth find themselves aspiring. We see both realities—present and future unity—in the earnest prayer of our great High Priest:
May they all be one. Even as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, may they also be one in us, so that the world may believe you sent me. I myself have given them the glory that you have given me, so that they may be one, even as we are one. I in them, and you in me, so that they may be perfected in unity, so that the world may know that you sent me, and that you loved them even as you loved me. –John 17:21-23
This prayer was first answered on the Day of Pentecost, when the 120 received the Holy Spirit and became one in Christ. It is further answered on the day of each Christian’s personal Pentecost, when he is born from above and made one, not only with Christ, but also with all Christians of all times and places. But it is also answered whenever a Christian, or a group of Christians, strives to resolve the doctrinal, ethical, or relational differences that separate them; when they seek reconciliation so as to please and glorify their Savior by demonstrating to a watching world that the Church on earth really is a heavenly family bound together in the love of God their Father.
How, then, may a fractious Church may most swiftly progress towards the more perfect unity for which Christ prayed? The answer is before us: by centering on him, the One who first purchased our unity in the Spirit, and the One who alone can advance it.
It is easily said, but not so easily done, for the practical steps are many, and they are often arduous. Together we must turn to Christ. Together we must thank him for, and richly celebrate, the saving grace that has already made us one in him. Together we must humbly recognize that due to sin in the camp we are now beset with divisions that dishonor him, trouble us, and stumble the unbelieving world. Together we must therefore ask him for help, while humbly and expectantly searching, discussing, and debating the relevant Scriptures until healing light is granted from above. Moreover, in the face of persistent divisions, we must make every effort to avoid breaking into factions, but instead center ourselves upon, and celebrate all the more, everything we have in common (1 Cor. 1:10-3:23). This, I trust, was the heart of the apostle Paul when he wrote as follows to the Ephesian Christians:
So then: I, the prisoner of the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling by which you were called: in all humility and gentleness, with great patience, bearing with one another in love, and making every effort to guard [and advance] the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. For there is one body and one Spirit—just as you also were called to the one hope that belongs to your calling— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all, and through all, and in all. –Ephesians 4:1-4
As all such NT texts make clear, our heavenly Father desires us not only to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace, but also to embark on an earnest quest for a more perfect unity; a more perfect harmony of affection, thought, word, and deed; a growing and maturing unity in the family below that winsomely intimates the perfect unity of the Family above.4
Conclusion
Providentially, picturesquely, and quite prolifically our heavenly Father has depicted Christ in the midst. In doing so, he invites us to consider each such instance and its special significance. This, in turn, leads us to a still larger contemplation of God’s revealed truth: of the Son-centeredness of the intra-trinitarian life, and of the Christ-centeredness of his eternal purposes, plans, and decrees for the world. These, in turn, move us to explore the ramifications of his purposes for our Christian life: How our heavenly Father desires that Christ should dwell at center of our being, our worldview, our affections, our (three-fold) ministry of worship, and our quest for that more perfect spiritual unity by which unbelievers will be more powerfully confronted with the good news of the Father’s love for his Son, his people, and all who are willing to put their trust in him.
Yes, the Christ-centeredness of biblical revelation is indeed a great sight, one to which the Father would have us turn aside over and again, in order to behold it as clearly as we possibly can.
Why?
Because it teaches us to make much of his Son: to draw near to him, speak with him, open to him, learn from him, rest in him, draw upon him, walk with him, serve with him, suffer with him, trust in him, hope in him, and treasure him.
Why?
Because such life in Christ is life indeed, and that in great abundance. But also because in Christ alone do we gain access to everything else that God has in store for his beloved children. Like the all-important neck of an hour glass, Jesus Christ is the one point at which the fullness of the world above flows down into the emptiness of the world beneath; the one point through which the inhabitants of the world beneath may now rise upward to the world above.
Here, then, is why the Father repeatedly draws us to Christ; why the Spirit repeatedly unveils, exalts, and glorifies Christ; why Christ himself repeatedly invites and commands us to come to him; and why the Holy Scriptures—straining, as it were, to impress the great truth of Christ-centeredness upon human hearts and minds—presents Christ to us as the ark, the ladder, the meeting place, the narrow gate, the open door, the good ground, the way, the truth, the life, the treasure, the treasure-chest, and the one mediator between God and men.
In sum, our heavenly Father would have us place and keep Christ in the midst because it is in his Son, and in his Son alone, that he is pleased to meet all his beloved and adopted children, and there to bestow upon them everything he has.
Notes
1. For an in-depth study of the biblical world-view and its Christ-centeredness, see Dean Davis, The Test: A Seeker’s Journey to the Meaning of Life (Enumclaw, Washington, Redemption Press, 2010), Part III.
2. “Two cities have been formed by two loves: the earthly by the love of self, even to the contempt of God; the heavenly by the love of God, even to the contempt of self. The one seeks glory from men; but the greatest glory of the other is God, the witness of conscience. The one lifts up its head in its own glory; the other says to its God, ‘Thou art my glory, and the lifter up of mine head.'” — Augustine, City of God
3. How, in our personal prayer life and public ministry, shall we place and keep Christ at the center of our affections, and yet at the same time honor the God-ward thrust of NT revelation: the tendency of the speakers and writers, both in prayer and proclamation, to press upward—by the Spirit, through the Son—to the pinnacle of the godhead and the Fountainhead of all divine gifts: God the Father (Matt. 6:8-10; 11:25-29; John 16:26-28; John 17; Acts 4:23-31; Eph. 1:1-23; 3:14-21; Rev. 4-5)? It is a question that swiftly takes me out of my depths; but I will share the little I have glimpsed so far. / With reference to prayer, I would say that as a general rule we do well to listen hard to our Lord, and therefore come boldly before the throne of grace; which is to say, to God the Father (Matt. 6:8-10; John 16:23; Heb. 4:16; Rev. 4-5). This rule is by no means absolute (John 4:10; 14:14; Acts 7:58-60; 17-21), since the Holy Spirit, at any time, is at liberty to draw us swiftly and powerfully to Christ (Acts 7:59; 9:5, 10, 21; 1 Cor. 1:2). Nevertheless, prayer by the Spirit, through the Son, to the Father is clearly the default NT protocol, since it most fully conforms our worship to the trinitarian nature of God’s redemptive economy. / That said, it is unthinkable for saints who are under their Father’s orders to listen to Christ (Matt. 17:5), feast on Christ (John 6:56), abide in Christ (John 15:1-10), and fix their eyes on Christ (Heb. 12:1-2), that they should ever surrender their conversation with Christ! / In my experience, there are at two main solutions to this spiritual tension, to this problem of directing our prayers, love, and adoration to the proper recipients. / The first is simply to recognize that when we are speaking to our heavenly Father, the Son is right there with him, dwelling in his bosom, undistractedly listening to us pray (John 1:18)! As the Lord himself said, “I am in the Father, and the Father is in me” (John 14:9, 11; 17:20-21). Theologians use the Greek word perichoresis to refer to this mysterious ontological intimacy, this mutual indwelling and interpenetration of the three divine Persons. As elusive as the idea may seem, it is actually of great practical help in our prayer life, since by training ourselves to keep perichoresis in view, we grow in our personal awareness of the triune presence. / These thoughts lead us to our second solution, which is still more helpful; namely, that in our life in the Spirit there is a kind of undulation or oscillation, such that sometimes the Spirit of the Father draws us to the Son (Matt. 10:20; John 6:26-58; 15:26), while at other times the Spirit of the Son draws us to our Abba/Father (Rom. 8:15; Gal. 4:6). This undulation is vital for our spiritual fulfillment, since through it we are enabled to speak richly to each Person of the trinity about his distinctive role in our redemption. Both Paul and Peter illustrate this principle for us, offering praise to the Father for his work of election, praise to the Son for his work of (accomplishing) redemption, and praise to the Holy Spirit for his work of regeneration and effectual calling (Eph. 1:3-14; 1 Peter 1:3-9). Through such oscillating prayer and praise, we grow in love not only to the Father and the Son, but also to the Holy Spirit (though, as the “shy” Person of the trinity, he is pleased almost exclusively to focus our attention on the other two). / I conclude, then, that due to the Christ-centered economy of our redemption, it pleases the Father that his Son should be central in the affections of his children, but by no means exclusive in receiving those affections, since it is through our first loving the Son that we soon learn, and are graciously enabled, to love the Father, the Spirit, all the saints and angels, all men everywhere, and all the wise and wondrous ways of the triune living God.
4. While the preservation and pursuit of spiritual unity is a solemn mandate from the Lord, these cherished goals must be tempered with biblical wisdom. Outward unity is not always possible or even desirable. The emergence of factions, under God’s providence, becomes an impetus to the pursuit, discovery, and standardization of truth (1 Cor. 1:18-19). And if the standardization of truth leads to church discipline and/or the departure of heretics, it is all to the good, since this kind of schism tends to the purity and health of the true family of God (1 John 2:19). Nevertheless, in the face of emerging factions, our first instinct, and our best, is to preserve and advance the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.