Obtaining Peace: Fellowship

 

Peace 9

 

          God does not command us to live in peace without giving us the wherewithal to do so. He gives us the strength and grace to do so, yes, but He also tells us how to do so all through the Scriptures. So far in this series we have looked at three of them. We obtain peace by asking Him. We obtain peace by knowing Him. We obtain peace by trusting Him. In today’s post, we will discover that we can also obtain peace by fellowship with His people.

          The sweet psalmist of Israel went through several seasons of deep suffering. One of those periods he endured as an older, mature king. His son, Absalom, rebelled against his rule, subverted his chief counsellors, stole the hearts of his followers, and led the nation to into perversity and revolt. Through the support of a gracious God, and the loyalty of a few reliable retainers, David was restored to his throne. Betrayed by so many of his friends, attacked by his enemies, bereft of his son, a heartbroken but triumphant David penned Psalm 55. Amongst other gems, he gives us this precious statement of thanksgiving. He hath delivered my soul in peace from the battle that was against me: for there were many with me (Psalm 55.18).

          I am a huge believer in spending time with God’s people. It is both commanded and exemplified all over the New Testament. While I maintain active and purposeful relationships with numbers of lost people, all of my friends are drawn from the brethren. I sit with them. I talk with them. I eat with them. I go to church with them. I laugh with them. I host them at Saint’s Rest. It is not wrong to say that I live my life among the community of the saints.

          I find many things in such community. I find accountability. If I am struggling, the people who know me well will both notice and call me on it. I find encouragement. The world is not our friend. It pushes against everything we hold dear and promotes that which we find abhorrent. It is often a lonely task indeed to be a Christian. Or it would be, if it were not for the assembly of God’s people. I find modeling and mentoring here too, living, breathing lessons of what I ought to be and can be as I follow on to know the Lord.

          I also find peace.

          As a pastor for twenty-four years, it has fallen to me to perform many funerals. Some of those funerals have been for people I did not know at all, people who died without a church and without a pastor, sometimes even without the Lord. On the opposite end of the spectrum, I have also performed many funerals for people who not only knew Him, but loved Him and loved His people down here on Earth.

The difference between those funerals is stark. At the former, there is a strained effort to hold back despair, closed faces afraid of contemplating their own mortality and what it means. The atmosphere is cold and lifeless, and the moment the ceremony is over people flee for the supposed sanctuary of their secure little world.

          The Christian funerals of those who loved God and His church are a complete and utter contrast. There is joy. There are tears, yes, but they are sweet tears. There is emotional support. There is laughing as we recall precious memory after precious memory. There is the sheer delight of looking forward to Heaven. Such events are more rightly named a celebration than a funeral, a celebration of a life well lived, a celebration of the present Heaven, and a celebration of the reunion to come on that great day.

          The former had precious little if any fellowship with God’s people. Not surprisingly, there is precious little if any peace at their funeral.

          Martyn Lloyd-Jones, the 20^th century’s premier British preacher, referred to his church once as a preaching station. He bemoaned the numbers who flooded in to hear him orate, but refused to become an integral part of the actual church assembled there. I share that frustration with him as the technology and events of our day have only exacerbated the problem. I am weary of God’s people feeding their desire for God’s Word on YouTube preachers. I am indescribably frustrated with couch church, so much so that I stopped our church’s internet stream whole cloth, pandemic or no pandemic. 

          God did not design the Christian life to be lived in isolation; He designed it to be lived in community. He designed us to be together, to assemble. So get off the couch and go. Go early. Stay late. Force yourself to stick around and fellowship with God’s people. Open your heart and life to those around you. Laugh with them. Weep with them. Put your shoulder to the wheel with them. Love them. Serve them. Allow them, in turn, to minister to you.

          Like David, you will be in a battle someday. Like David, you will discover who your real friends are. I am convinced that when/if that battle comes to my life I will find hundreds and hundreds of sincere people at my side, ministering grace and comfort and counsel and support. I have built those relationships over time, with time. I have refused the alluring ease of isolation. Consequently, I am not alone. I am rich in relationships. And amongst all the other blessings that come here, there is a wealth of peace. 

Drink deep and long and often from the well of fellowship. And you will find peace.