Paul in his second letter to the Thessalonians describes the great apostasy that will occur in the last days.

Now concerning the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ and our assembling to meet him, we beg you brethren, not to be quickly shaken in mind or excited, either by spirit or by word, or by letter purporting to be from us, to the effect that the day of the Lord has come. Let no one deceive you in any way; for that day will not come, unless the rebellion comes first, and the man of lawlessness is revealed, the son of perdition, who opposes and exalts himself against every so-called god or object of worship, so that he takes his seat in the temple of God, proclaiming himself to be God. [2 Thessalonians 2:1-4, RSV]

Paul is telling the Christians that the coming of the Lord will not occur unless the rebellion comes first. This is called the great apostasy which occurs just before the coming of the Lord. Apostasy refers to the faithful who renounce, desert, or become traitors to their faith.

In Part II, we noted that the Laodicean church was the worst of the seven Asian churches. It believed itself rich and in need of nothing but in reality was wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. Its great sin was that it was lukewarm—neither hot nor cold. Its indifference arose from self-conceitedness and self-delusion. In spite of humanism being the “…most severe enemy that Christianity ever had,”[1] many American churches have begun to mirror the exaltation of self which is the central theme of this man-made philosophy. They do not deny God as do the humanists but treat God as if he were distant and uninvolved in their daily lives. As a result, many modern churches have become like the Laodicean church. They are lukewarm and indifferent to His presence and power. In accord with the central tenet of humanism, their focus is on the self and its well-being in this life rather than being concerned with the soul and its eternal destination.

This focus on self stands in direct contradiction to the admonition that Christians must die to self. [See: Galatians 2:20; 1 Corinthians 15:31] The church has succumbed to the humanist lie through the abandonment of sound doctrine. In his second letter to Timothy, Paul warned, “For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate to themselves teachers to suit their own likings, and turn away from listening to the truth and wander into myths.” [2 Timothy 4:3-4. RSV]

During the colonial era and for 150 years after the founding America, the Christian church was infused with a sound doctrinal foundation which anchored the republic. But as the humanistic spirit arose in the institutions of American life at the beginning of the twentieth century, the church’s role in society was diminished due to a loss of cultural authority and acceptance. To counter humanism’s onslaught, mainline Protestant leaders began embracing secular human sciences to lend credibility and cultural relevance to the tenets of their religion.[2] But such acceptance brought compromise of its creedal doctrines which resulted in a profane and powerless church that had lost its saltness, “…no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trodden under foot by men.” [Matthew 5:13b. RSV]

An eyewitness account of the decimation of doctrinal standards by mainline liberal churches in America was given by Dietrich Bonhoeffer. Bonhoeffer had passed his doctoral examination in theology at the University of Berlin in late 1927. After a year in Barcelona, Spain, as the vicar for a German congregation, he returned to Germany in 1929. However, in 1930, with a Sloane Fellowship in hand, the brilliant twenty-four year old theologian traveled to Union Theological Seminary in New York City. There he was to experience firsthand the massive battle raging in the 1920s and 1930s between the liberals and fundamentalists.[3]

Theological liberalism was led by the most famous liberal preacher in America, Harry Emerson Fosdick, pastor of the prestigious Riverside Church of New York which was built for Fosdick by John D. Rockefeller to further Fosdick’s “progressive” modernist views. While still at First Presbyterian Church of New York City in 1922, Fosdick loosed an initial blast with his sermon “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?” in which he denigrated the “…historic assertions of the Christian faith, including the virgin birth, the resurrection, the divinity of Christ, the atonement, miracles, and the Bible as the Word of God.” In defense of the historic faith, as described by the fundamentalists, was Dr. Walter Duncan Buchanan, pastor of the Broadway Presbyterian Church, six blocks south of First Presbyterian. Fosdick and Rockefeller’s lieutenants such at Time magazine’s Henry Luce mounted a massive assault to once and for all time rid the church of any fundamentalist tendencies.[4]

To Bonhoeffer, it was obvious that the professors and students at Union heavily favored the liberal views of Fosdick. Bonhoeffer was appalled at their lack of serious scholarship with respect to truth and academic inquiry. He wrote,

There is no theology here… They [Union students] talk a blue streak without the slightest substantive foundation and with no evidence of any criteria…They are unfamiliar with even the most basic questions. They become intoxicated with liberal and humanistic phrases, laugh at the fundamentalists, and yet basically are not even up to their level.[5] [emphasis in original]

Bonhoeffer described the theological atmosphere at the seminary as hastening the process of secularization of Christianity in America. He found no better in the liberal churches of New York.[6]

Things are not much different in the church. The sermon has been reduced to parenthetical church remarks about newspaper events. As long as I’ve been here, I have heard only one sermon in which you could hear something like a genuine proclamation [of the gospel]…The fundamentalist sermon that occupies such a prominent place in the southern states has only one prominent Baptist representative in New York, one who preaches the resurrection of the flesh and the virgin birth before believers and the curious alike.

In New York they preach about virtually everything, only one thing is not addressed, or is addressed so rarely that I have as yet been unable to hear it, namely, the gospel of Jesus Christ, the cross, sin and forgiveness, death and life.[7]

The liberal churches of the early twentieth century were no longer separate from the world but had become completely infused with the spirit the Laodicean church. Its hard-hearted indifference was nourished by its own self-conceit and self-delusion. It believed itself rich and in need of nothing but in reality was wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. It was neither hot nor cold. Jesus Christ, the cross, sin, forgiveness, and death and life were irrelevant to its existence.

Larry G. Johnson

[1] Eric Metaxas, Bonhoeffer-Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, (Nashville, Tennessee: Thomas Nelson, 2010), p. 85.
[2] Larry G. Johnson, Ye shall be as gods – Humanism and Christianity – The Battle for Supremacy in the American Cultural Vision, (Owasso, Oklahoma: Anvil House Publishers, 2011), p. 252.
[3] Metaxas, pp. 94, 101.
[4] Ibid., pp. 101-103.
[5] Ibid., p. 101.
[6] Ibid., p. 105.
[7] Ibid., p. 106.

Near the beginning of His Sermon on the Mount, Christ admonished His disciples about their mission in a dark and desolate world.

You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how shall its saltness be restored? It is no longer good for anything except to be thrown out and trodden under foot by men. You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hid. Nor do men light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven. [Matthew 5:13-16. RSV]

When considering Christ’s instruction that the church should be salt and light to the world, it appears to conflict with His instruction at the end of His Sermon on the Mount in which the church is commanded to walk a separate path from that of the world. Throughout its history, the church often has had difficulty with balancing these seemingly contradictory commands. The early church was no exception.

In the first chapter of the Revelation of Jesus Christ, while in the Spirit on the Lord’s day, John was instructed by Christ to record what he saw in the book and send it to seven churches in Asia. One by one, John revealed each of their works (good and bad) and their heart.

Ephesus (Revelation 2:1-7) A typical first century church, they had many great works and had labored and endured without growing weary. Their sin was that they had left their first love. It was not a matter of rejection but neglect. Fervency and zeal for Christ were no longer present and without which they were in jeopardy. There only hope was repentance and doing their first works again.

Smyrna (Revelation 2:8-11) Best described as the persecuted church. They suffered tribulation, poverty, and slander. They were encouraged to not fear the coming suffering, imprisonment, and for some even death because a crown of life awaited the faithful.

Pergamos (Revelation 2:12-17) It was labeled as the church where Satan dwelled. This church mixed with the world. They were faithful in spirit but filthy in flesh. They communed with persons of corrupt principles and practices which brought guilt and blemish upon the whole body. When those corrupt members of a church are punished, so too will the whole church be punished if they allow such corruption to continue.

Thyatira (Revelation 2:18-29) Although commended for their charity, service, faith, and patience, evil progresses and idolatry was practiced in the church. The church contained unrepentant and wicked seducers who drew God’s servants into fornication and offering sacrifices to idols.

Sardis (Revelation 3:1-6) It was representative of the church that is dead or at the point of death even though it still has a minority of godly men and women. The great charge against this church was hypocrisy. It was not what it appeared to be. The ministry was languishing. There was a form of Godliness but not the power.

Philadelphia (Revelation 3:7-13) It was a church of revival and spiritual progress. The church had proved itself faithful and obedient to the Word. As its name implies, it was a church of love and kindness to each other. Because of their excellent spirit, they were an excellent church. They kept the word and did not deny His name. No fault was attributed to the church, only mild reproof for having only a little strength or power.

Laodicea (Revelation 3:14-19) The worst of all of the seven Asian churches, Laodicea had nothing to commend it. Its great sin was that it was lukewarm—neither hot nor cold. Its indifference arose from self-conceitedness and self-delusion. It believed itself rich and in need of nothing but in reality was wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. Christ reminded them of where true riches may be found, without which severe punishment would follow.[1]

The seven Asian churches found in Revelation were not the only first century Christian churches. However, they were selected by God to give timeless instruction for His people throughout the centuries to the end of the age. We must not make the mistake of assigning the sins of the Asian churches to any one age or to a particular church. Although the Laodicean church is a description of the final state of apostasy which the visible church will experience, one need only need to review the sins of the other churches to know that those sins are prevalent in every age.

Two thousand years after the assorted sins of the early Asian churches were exposed by God through John, the church is still having difficulty with Paul’s charge to be separate from the world. On the one hand we have some modern day religious legalists like the prideful Pharisee, about whom Luke wrote, who boasted of his separateness. The Pharisee trusted in himself that he was righteous. With smugness, a haughty spirit, and perhaps a condescending eye turned to the man that stood nearby, he prayed his prayer of thanksgiving. “God, I thank thee that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week, I give tithes of all that I get.” [Luke 18:11b-12. RSV] On the other hand, it is apparent that in all of church history the church far more often errs on the side of worldliness than legalism.

In reality, it is not a contest between the church’s separateness from a wicked world or spreading salt and light to a lost and dying world. Sin is sin in whichever camp it resides—failure to be separate or failure to be salt and light. The absence of one shall surely sound the eventual death knell of the other.

In Part III, we shall examine the beginning of the great apostasy in the modern American church of the early twentieth century.

Larry G. Johnson

[1] Matthew Henry, Commentary on the Whole Bible, (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House, 1961), pp. 1970-1974.

The separateness of the church from worldliness and the wicked is a consistent theme which runs throughout the Bible, particularly in the New Testament. One of the clearest statements to the believer regarding God’s command to be separate is found in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthian church.

Do not be mismated with unbelievers. For what partnership have righteousness and iniquity? Or what fellowship has light with darkness? What accord has Christ with Belial? Or what has a believer in common with an unbeliever? What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we are the temple of the living God…Therefore come out from them, and be separate from them…” [2 Corinthians 14-16a, 17a. RSV]

Life is a journey and the separateness of which Paul spoke is not achieved by a one-time inoculation of holiness. To be holy or set apart is both a singular event at salvation and a continuing process. We must contend for separateness as described by Christ near the end of the Sermon on the Mount. “Enter by the narrow gate, for the gate is wide and the way is easy, that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard, that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” [Matthew 7:13-14. RSV]

If the way of Christ is hard, why would the world listen to and embrace such an austere, demanding message? To follow Christ is to die to self and the things of this world. Apart from the Bible, we may find the answer in one of the greatest works of literature of all time.

Born in 1628 near Bedford, England, a young boy grew up to follow his father’s trade as a metal worker. At age sixteen he was caught up in the English civil war and almost killed while battling the forces of Charles I. Following his military service, he was in great confusion and struggled with guilt. Eventually he found spiritual peace and became a Christian as a result of reading Martin Luther’s commentary on Galatians in which grace triumphs over law. He joined a Protestant church and soon became a lay preacher and polemicist. He was a Nonconformist which meant that he did not adhere to the doctrinal tenets of the Anglican Church. In 1660, Charles II was restored to the English throne which also restored the power of the Anglican Church over all religious life in England. In that same year the thirty-two year old young man was persecuted and arrested for unlicensed preaching. His first wife died in 1656, and he remarried in 1659. Soon after his imprisonment, his second wife gave birth to a child that died within a few days. Because he would not recant and conform his preaching to the Anglican model, his first imprisonment lasted twelve years.[1]

John Bunyan had chosen Christ’s hard way. Having lost personal liberty as well as the liberty to preach, prisoner Bunyan picked up his pen and wrote one of the classic allegorical works of all time—Pilgrim’s Progress. Using a dream as the means for telling his story, Bunyan begins with a description of a pilgrim called Christian.

…behold I saw a man clothed with rags, [Isaiah 64:6] standing in a certain place, with his face from his own house, a book in his hand, and a great burden upon his back. [Psalms 38:4] I looked and saw him open the book, and read therein; and as he read he wept and trembled, and not being able longer to contain, he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, “What shall I do?”[2] [Acts 16:30-31]

Christian went home but tried to hide his distress from his family. When he could be silent no longer, he told his wife and children of his experience.

…I your dear friend am in myself undone, by reason of a burden that lieth hard upon me; moreover, I am for certain informed that this our city will be burned with fire from heaven, in which fearful overthrow both myself, with thee, my wife, and you my sweet babes, shall miserably come to ruin, except (the which, yet I see not) someway of escape can be found, whereby we may be delivered.[3] [emphasis added]

The burden that lay hard on our protagonist was sin. It was neither a new burden to Christian nor exclusive to him. Sinful man carried the burden since that shameful day he was banished from the Garden, and all of his unredeemed decedents have continued to carry that burden to this present hour.

Christian’s moment of truth occurred when he opened the book and began to read. His abominable sin nature was fully and startlingly revealed to his heart and mind, and he saw the inevitable and eternal destruction that awaited him at the end of life. He had carried the burden of sin his entire life, often shifting it from one shoulder to the other to gain a measure of comfort for he knew that of his own accord he could lay his burden down. Sometimes he attempted to ease his discomfort by padding his shoulders with the things of the world as he carried the wearisome weight. But in his moment of truth as he read the book, he saw the utter loathsomeness of his burden in a new light. He now saw that it was part of his very nature. Even more intolerable was his rejection of the immeasurable love of Christ whose death on the cross had made it possible for Christian to lay down his burden. He was imprisoned by sin and awaited final condemnation that would banish him to eternal torment. The book revealed that at the end of life there would be no character witnesses to stack up his good points to offset the bad. There would be no excuses to be given or extenuating circumstances to be considered. There would be no summing up of arguments to a jury of his peers to lessen the sentence of death. At the end of his life he would stand before the supreme judge from whom there is no appeal. In utter despair our hero knew that he was guilty and destined for eternal damnation. In utter despair he could only cry “What shall I do?”

Every man or woman who ever lived is convicted of sin by the Holy Spirit, but man’s final destination is decided by what he does with that knowledge. His conviction is not man-made and does not come from a guilty conscience, shame, fear of punishment for sin, or even agreement with the scriptures as to right and wrong. Although these often accompany the heavy load of sin, conviction comes only from the work of the Holy Spirit. Teaching His disciples just before His betrayal, Jesus spoke of the coming of the Spirit and His mission.

Nevertheless I tell you the truth: I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will convince the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment: concerning sin, because they do not believe in me; concerning righteousness, because I go to the Father, and you will see me no more; concerning judgment, because the ruler of this world is judged. [John 16:7-11. RSV]

The Holy Spirit’s first mission is to deal with sin. Because the sinner does not believe in God regarding sin and righteousness, the Holy Spirit reveals the truth of sin to convince the heart of the sinner of his sinful life. Conviction of sin is a call to salvation and separateness from the world (holiness). Christians answer that call at the moment of salvation. He is a new creation and is separated from the world, but the work of separateness must continue as one takes the narrow path.

As with all mankind, Christian chose a path that eventually led to his day of judgment. The prosecutor in our drama unfolding in this celestial courtroom is the Holy Spirit. The Supreme Judge of the Universe turns to the Holy Spirit and asks, “Did you perform your office work by speaking with Christian of sin and righteousness and judgment?” The Holy Spirit replied, “Yes, Father. I did.” At that moment the gavel of justice was raised in preparation to seal the verdict and impose the sentence of death. Pausing, the Father turns to Christian’s defense counsel, the Son of Man, who sits at the Father’s right hand. “Son, do you have anything to say in Christian’s defense?” Jesus reached for a large book with His nail-pierced hands that bear mute testimony of His authority to present a defense on Christian’s behalf. The Son opened the book and searched its pages. He smiles as he looks at the Father. “I have no record of Christian’s sin. Whatever they were has been washed away by my blood. Only his name is written here in the Book of Life.”

Like Christian, we are mere sojourners in this world. We may choose the hard way or the easy way. One is narrow and leads to eternal communion with God. The other is broad but leads to destruction and eternal damnation.

We have spoken of the church’s separation from the world. But here we must address a seeming contradiction. Although Christians are sojourners in this present life, they are also commanded to be salt and light to a lost and dying world. [See: Matthew 5: 13-16] It is in the balancing act of being separate and being salt and light that the church often has difficulty. This is the subject of Part II.

Larry G. Johnson

[1] John Bunyan, Pilgrim’s Progress, (New York: Signet Classics, Introduction Copyright by Roger Lundin, 2002),pp. x-xii.
[2] Ibid., p. 12.
[3] Ibid., pp. 11-12.