Liturgy is the needle; Christendom is the thread it pulls through.

The kingdom of Christ is far broader than the church. But the church, in both her gathered and scattered capacities, acts as the bearer of the kingdom. The church announces the kingdom by proclaiming Jesus is Lord and celebrates the kingdom in the Eucharist. Furthermore, the church embodies the lifestyle of the kingdom in her common life and culture. The kingdom takes initial shape in the institutional church, but spills over from there into all God’s people do in the world.

Jesus makes this point in Matthew 13:31-33, as he describes the extensive and intensive growth of the kingdom, the breadth and depth of the kingdom. The mustard seed parable points to the extensive growth of the kingdom as it fills the earth. The leaven parable points to the intensive growth of the kingdom as it permeates every aspect of human life.  Jesus then brings these two forms together in  the Great Commission at the end of Matthew’s gospel: “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth.  Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Note the extensive growth of the kingdom included in the commission: all the nations are to be discipled.  Jesus is calling on his disciples to do nothing less than Christianize all the peoples of the earth. But at the same time, the intensive growth of the kingdom is also brought into view. The nations are not merely to be converted, but discipled.  They are to be taught the whole counsel of Christ, with its wide-ranging implications for every area of life. While the church does not tell people how to do their specific vocations in every detail, she does train them in a broad way so they can carry out their vocations to the glory of God. Obviously the church is central in this double enterprise of kingdom expansion and maturation. 

The double growth of the kingdom takes place foundationally through the agencies of the institutional church, though, again, we should not limit the kingdom to the institution, of course. Grace (really, the personal presence of Christ) flows from the heavenly, Spirit-established, Spirit-indwelt community out to the rest of culture. Gifts received and wisdom learned in the church are taken out to the other spheres to remake and reform them in terms of God’s holistic design for human life. The church – especially her worship assembly – is central in all of this.

The pattern in the book of Exodus shows us this truth. Israel’s first task after being freed from slavery is not setting up a theocratic civil government or Hebrew schools, though those things were no doubt on the agenda. Those things would come in due time, but the Israelites started with building the tabernacle, a center for corporate worship and prayer. For forty years they wandered in the wilderness learning how to worship and live as a covenant community; then they were ready to go forth to conquer the Promised Land and set up a theocratic civilization.  The pattern of Exodus is clear: first worship, then dominion. We’re not ready to rule the land until we have learned to serve God in his sanctuary.

Ezekiel shows us this truth in his temple vision as well. The rivers of life, flowing out to the world to bring healing and renewal, originate in the sanctuary (Ezek. 47). The water does not flow out from the family hearth or the halls of Congress, but from under the altar. The water that refreshes, nourishes, and makes fruit-bearing possible surges from the church (the new Eden and temple) out to the nations. The current of the river is ultimately destined to reach the four corners of the earth – but the church is the only channel through which the water can run its course. 

Again, Haggai makes the same point in Israel’s post-exilic period. The prophet scolds the Israelites for seeking to rebuild their culture before they have restored worship. They are building their houses before they have built God’s house and, as a result, all their cultural efforts are doomed to futility (Hag. 2). Haggai demonstrates that ecclesiastical reformation precedes and empowers cultural transformation.

Finally, we see Paul carrying out this model in his missionary journeys. Paul was certainly concerned that all of cultural and political life come under the discipleship of the gospel. His great hope, after all, is to preach to Caesar! But when Paul entered a city, he aimed first and foremost at planting a church, from which the rest of the culture would be transformed over time. He did not start by making proposals to local legislative bodies or setting up Christian schools. He started with the Word, water, bread, and wine. The church was the tip of his spear in every place he went. He knew if he planted a church in any given city, cultural transformation would soon follow.

Liturgy is the needle; Christendom is the thread it pulls through.