The Scandal of Christianity

R T Kendall Ministries Inc., R.T. Kendall

• Publisher: Hodder Faith
• Year: 2011
• Print ISBN: 9780340964163
• eBook ISBN: 9781444703023
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

Too often these days Christianity is seen as just part of our cultural background, rather than a living, breathing faith that sets out to challenge the norms we live by. Here R. T. Kendall brings the scandalous nature of Christianity back to the forefront of our faith, arguing not just that an unscandalous Christianity isn't good for much, but that Christians must welcome that scandal if they are to know God's blessings to the full. R.T. argues that as Christians we must not try to simply fit in alongside our neighbours, but should be willing to stand out - even when that's hard to do. He makes clear that we shouldn't seek out difficulties, but equally shouldn't be shy of standing up for our beliefs, wherever that may take us.

1

Personal Background

Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day.

(2 Tim. 1:12)

Although my memory’s fading, I remember two things very clearly: I am a great sinner and Christ is a great saviour.

(John Newton, 1725–1807)

My background prepared me for the day I would need to embrace the scandal of the gospel for myself. I was born and raised in Ashland, Kentucky, located on the Ohio River in the eastern part of that state. In those days there were only forty-eight states. We had a slogan: ‘Thank God for Arkansas.’ This was because Kentucky was – at that time – forty-seventh in educational standards. Arkansas kept us from being at the very bottom! But as far back as I can remember people from everywhere made fun of Kentuckians! Although I am now proud of being a Kentuckian, when I was growing up I sometimes felt a bit self-conscious when people categorised me by where I was from, especially when we went to Illinois on holiday. Being a Kentuckian became a part of my self-image, and this was not helped by my church background.

I was brought up in the Church of the Nazarene when Nazarenes were less sophisticated than they are today. Early Nazarenes were very expressive – shouting with excitement, even jumping up and down – when they felt God’s presence. Their theology was more like the early Methodists. The ethos, preaching style and worship at my own church were influenced by the Cane Ridge Revival in central Kentucky. Ashland is just over a hundred miles from Cane Ridge, in Bourbon County, the historic spot where America’s ‘second great awakening’ took place in the early nineteenth century. This was the beginning of the phenomenon of ‘camp meetings’. People came from five states in their covered wagons for fellowship and Bible study.

The Cane Ridge Revival reportedly began on a July Sunday morning in 1801 when a Methodist lay preacher stood on the top of a fallen tree before 15,000 people and preached a sermon from 2 Corinthians 5:10: ‘For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad’ (King James Version). By the time he finished preaching several hundred people had fallen to the ground spontaneously and appeared to be unconscious for hours. Some panicked, fearing that these people had died (some reportedly only had a pulse rate of two beats per minute, which you cannot live on). But not to worry; hours later these same people came to, shouting at the tops of their voices, claiming full assurance of salvation and a heightened sense of the presence of God. The power of God swept through the camp, and hundreds of others fell. For four days there was not a time when there were not hundreds of people flat out on the ground. You could hear shouting, yelling, joyful screaming, also preaching and testifying, from a mile away. It was described as ‘the sound of Niagara’. It is also probably one of the best explanations for the presence of a Bible belt in America to this day.

In any case, that atmosphere swept all over Kentucky and its surrounding states and lasted for many years. I have no doubt that my church upbringing was influenced by Cane Ridge. In fact, I would say we were at the ‘tail end’ of the momentum that had begun in the previous century. Nazarenes were called ‘Noisyrenes’ by people in Ashland. You could hear them shouting if you walked near the church.

My first recollection of feeling embarrassed by my church was when – at about age twelve – one morning, on my way to school, a neighbour of my age began taunting me in front of all the kids: ‘R. T.’s a Nazarene, R. T.’s a Nazarene’. I was not laughing. It hurt. It was so embarrassing. From that day – which began an era that lasted for years – I was extremely aware of where I went to church and the way it was perceived by my friends.

I also had a strict upbringing. Perhaps too strict. I was not allowed to go to a cinema, a circus or to the school dances. All my friends knew about it and it was something I lived with throughout my childhood and teenage years. Others my age made fun of me. This self-consciousness was not improved when I was chosen by a visiting preacher, Dr W. M. Tidwell, a visiting evangelist from Chattanooga, Tennessee, to be the chief illustration in his rendering of the parable of the wedding garment (Matt. 22:11–14), the basis for his sermon one Sunday morning. I was called into the pastor’s office before the service and Dr Tidwell explained that he wanted me to illustrate the speechless person who had no wedding garment and who would be bound hand and foot and carried into outer darkness where there would be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Four men in the congregation were asked to carry me out at the appropriate moment in his sermon, which they did. They tied my hands and feet and carried me down the centre aisle of the church and out of the door. My fear was that someone outside the church would see me as they carried me out of the door. The girl I fancied at the time lived across the street from the church and I could only think of how I would feel if she saw me carried out of the church by these four men. I had no idea what impact the sermon had on the congregation, I was only embarrassed.

But I later found out that the impact of the preacher’s sermon was rather astounding. A holy hush fell on the crowd. Dr Tidwell, aged eighty, announced, ‘Someone here is getting their last call.’ He warned the people to be sure they were saved and not to leave unconverted. He urged that person to come forward. It happened that my mother noticed that a young lady – Patsy (slightly older than me, but I knew her well) – had openly sniggered and scoffed during the service, including when I was being carried out. My mother wondered at the time if Patsy was the very person Dr Tidwell was referring to.

The next day, after I came in from my rounds delivering The Ashland Daily Independent, my mother said to me, ‘Have you heard about Patsy?’ ‘No,’ I answered, ‘what are you talking about?’ ‘Oh’, said my mother, ‘as Patsy was walking home from school today, at 25th and Montgomery Avenue, a car ran into another car and it careened on the sidewalk. And Patsy was killed.’

I was stunned, more shaken than I had ever been in my life. All the embarrassment I felt from the Sunday service was now gone. I never forgot it. Everybody who had been present remembered Dr Tidwell’s warning. All now knew it had to be Patsy. Her funeral was the most sobering funeral I ever attended. I could only think of how serious that Sunday morning service really was and it taught me one thing: the stigma of being chosen to follow the Lord is an inestimable privilege. And though it hurts to be categorised and it can be totally embarrassing, it is a most wonderful honour to be called to bear any offence for Jesus Christ.

Peer pressure

A few years ago I returned to Ashland for a visit. I enquired about a number of people I used to know, including those who were the most popular during my school years and those who showed the greatest promise. I also asked about certain people who happened to be among those who had laughed at me. It was an enlightening moment. In many cases those who had either laughed at me or deserted me (because of my church) were the very ones who did not turn out very well. Concerning the most popular player on the football team I was told, ‘He cannot even come to Ashland – the Mafia are looking for him.’ As for the star player of the basketball team, ‘He is divorced,’ they said, ‘living alone in a caravan on the edge of town, mainly sipping vodka all day, with nothing to live for.’ One person after another I asked about had not turned out well at all. And when I think of how important these people were to me then, it certainly gives a different perspective. The curse of peer pressure! The deceit of it.

And yet it is no different now. We want to be seen with the ‘right people’, having a respectable job, owning a good home and maintaining a reputation of respect and honour. It is not cool to be a Christian, and being a committed Christian is costly indeed. But the cost is worth it; indeed, it is more precious than a million tons of the purest gold (1 Pet.1:7).

Three principles

If I could get the value of this theme over to you in this book, it comes to three things. First, it is a privilege to be seen as scandalous or stigmatised for following Jesus Christ. We should welcome the stigma as we would look forward to the finest food, enjoy the loveliest scent or behold a most glorious sunrise. I guarantee that whatever stigma you bear for our Lord Jesus Christ it will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to you.

Second, I want this book to help you to see the utter folly of being concerned with a diminished reputation – if that comes about because of your obedience to the Lord Jesus. To let peer pressure – and what people think – motivate us or keep us from godly obedience is something we will live to regret. It is only a matter of time. As we see now how silly it was to let peer pressure affect us when we are young, so too when we are older. As I lived long enough to see the sad outcome of those who used to make fun of me, so you too will see that the people who scorn you will be those who will eventually be ashamed – and found out.

Third, the benefits that come from bearing the offence are incalculable. The good things when summarised come to two things: (1) a greater blessing from God here below and (2) a greater reward from God at the Judgement Seat of Christ – the very theme that Methodist lay preacher was emphasising at Cane Ridge.

Welcome the stigma

For this reason, I urge you again, learn to welcome the stigma with both hands. You will learn that the stigma first surfaces as a hidden blessing. You will develop an ‘instinct’ – namely, an ability to discern that what seems so negative at first is in fact so promising. Yes, it hurts at first. But you will come to realise this is something you had better not let go of.

I like to compare the welcoming of the stigma to Jacob wrestling with the angel. The occasion was this: Jacob was minding his own business when, suddenly, someone pounced upon him – appearing as an enemy – and began to wrestle with him. Jacob did not realise it was an angel and the ordeal was certainly not something Jacob welcomed at first. But at some stage during the night he realised the person he was wrestling was not an enemy but a friend. He then saw the worth of this strange friend. He perceived in him a value so wonderful that Jacob made sure the opportunity did not slip out of his hands! The episode thus began with what seemed to be a very negative and most threatening occurrence, but once Jacob saw its worth he said to the angel, ‘I will not let you go unless you bless me’ (Gen. 32:26). It was possibly the best thing that ever happened to him!

So too the stigma. The blessing behind causing a scandal or bearing the stigma, then, is at first often concealed but – if welcomed and embraced – will develop into an incalculable blessing. There is no limit to the blessing that may come from this. For one thing, the very awareness that you are identifying with the mission of God on the earth is in itself immensely gratifying. But there is more. It could open many doors. It will lead to many opportunities. It will bring new friends. It will inevitably mean a greater anointing of the Holy Spirit, a blessing too rich to figure out. All this came because you embraced the stigma.

There is another relevant Greek word: aischune – ‘shame’ or ‘disgrace’. In the ancient Hellenistic literature this shame came from being found out by a judge, therefore you were ashamed. Despite the promise that whoever believes on Christ shall not be ‘put to shame’ (Rom. 9:33), we are told to bear the cross – a mark of shame indeed. There was nothing more disgraceful than being sentenced to die on a cross. The one who was condemned to die on the cross had to carry it. And yet Jesus stated that we are to be unashamed of bearing the shame of his name. Think of that: being unashamed of the shame. Moreover, ‘If anyone is ashamed of me and my words’, said Jesus, ‘the Son of Man will be ashamed of them when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels’ (Mark 8:38). Later on, however, Peter and John actually rejoiced that they ‘had been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name’ (Acts 5:41).

A further reminder of the purpose of this book

My goal in writing this book is to bring you to rejoice as Peter and John did, when they embraced the privilege of suffering for the shame of Jesus’ Name.

Speaking personally, I believe that God began preparing me – even at the most human level – to embrace the stigma from my earliest years. Even being a Kentuckian was part of it! This is why I mentioned my background – state and church – at the beginning of this chapter. What once embarrassed me I now embrace and treasure. I now regard the opportunity to bear the stigma, shame, disgrace or offence over whatever the Holy Spirit leads me to do as being more precious than words can describe.

I was the minister of Westminster Chapel for exactly twenty-five years (1 February 1977 to 1 February 2002). My days at Westminster Chapel were not easy. Indeed, they were hard for me. I think that many a minister would, understandably, envisage being the pastor of Westminster Chapel as somewhat prestigious or glamorous. And that certainly was a part of the package. But that was not the whole story. One of the things I was required to do was to go onto the streets and start the Pilot Light ministry, and some felt it was outrageous for the minister of Westminster Chapel to be seen on the steps of the church giving out tracts to passers-by.

The birth of the Pilot Lights

Was I really required to do this? Yes. It happened one Friday night after forty or fifty of us headed towards Page Street in Westminster to invite people to church after getting them to answer our survey questions. It was the only way we knew to witness in those days. Arthur Blessitt, the man who has carried the cross around the world (he holds the Guinness record for the world’s longest walk), had excited all of us with the urgency of witnessing to the lost. Arthur and I were the last out and he followed me towards Page Street. On the way, he saw three young people standing next to the zebra crossing in front of the chapel. I thought, ‘Oh dear, Arthur is going to make us late getting to Page Street.’ But two of these young people showed interest – and after several minutes they were praying to invite Jesus Christ into their hearts.

I said, ‘Arthur, we need to get to Page Street.’ But he saw another young man coming towards the chapel. I recognised this young man; he lived in Buckingham Palace Mews and used to come to the chapel. I felt Arthur was wasting his time. ‘We need to go this way, Arthur.’ Not listening to me, Arthur went straight up to this man. In a few minutes the young man was on his knees with Arthur, praying to receive Christ. After spending a little time with him, Arthur turned to me and said, ‘Dr Kendall, I don’t know where this Page Street is but you don’t need to leave the steps of your church. You have the whole world passing here.’

I was struck. It was the last thing I wanted to hear. But in those moments I had a vision – or something like that – of a pilot light, as in an oven or cooker: a light that never goes out. I conceived of the idea then and there of offering coffee on the porch of the chapel, witnessing to passers-by on Saturdays. I called a dozen or so people into the vestry and told them I was going to start a ministry in the streets. We would be Pilot Lights. On the first Saturday of June 1982 the Pilot Light ministry was born. Six people showed up and were ready to go. We never looked back.

On the night of our Farewell Service at Westminster Chapel...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Imprint Page
• Dedication
• Contents
• Foreword
• Preface
• Quotation
• Introduction
• 1 Personal Background
• 2 The Gospel
• 3 The Most Important Question
• 4 The Offence in the Old Testament
• 5 Embracing the Shame of the Name
• 6 Name Calling
• 7 The Unnecessary Scandal
• 8 Out on a Limb
• 9 The Reason the Jews Missed their Messiah
• 10 The Stigma of No Vindication
• 11 The Stigma of Suspicion
• 12 The Stigma of the Holy Spirit
• 13 Manifestations of the Holy Spirit
• 14 Embarrassing Truths
• 15 Outside the Camp
• Also by R. T. Kendall