P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

LONE RANGER SUMMITEERS ON EVEREST

Does it ever bother you that the church where you worship has some serious theological disagreements with the church across the street? Why is that? In fact, you don’t have to go across the street to find contradictions; they might be just one or two pews over from you. I’ve spent my entire life standing in pulpits, sharing what I’ve felt to be the will of God, the good news . . . and often had to say to myself: “Lonnie Melashenko, you’re talking to people, good-hearted people, who are sure standing on the other side of the river from you.”

Here in Ephesians chapter 4, we’ve found a recurring theme, and it’s one word long: UNITY. The gospel of Jesus Christ is supposed to bring us together. It’s supposed to tear down barriers. It’s supposed to draw us nigh one to the other. And yet, the statement of beliefs on the back of my bulletin might be very different from yours. Should we be discouraged by that?

Maybe you remember reading about a freezing cold night on what climbers call the “South Col,” the last brief, level spot on Mount Everest before you head for the top. Most mountaineers treat it as “Camp Four,” and they try to get a few hours of sleep and a few calories into their bodies prior to making a desperate, starting-at-midnight climb for the summit. And on May 9, 1996, there were some 50 men and women huddled in tents, waiting for the wind to die down.

Bestselling author Jon Krakauer, in his book, Into Thin Air, describes what it was like up there that evening.

“As the jet stream encounters the Everest massif,” he writes, “and is squeezed through the V-shaped contours of the South Col, the wind accelerates to unimaginable velocities; it’s not unusual for the winds at the Col actually to be stronger than the winds that rip the summit.” Then he adds: “When I walked into Camp Four, six Sherpas were struggling to erect [Rob] Hall’s tents in a 50-knot tempest.”

This gifted writer goes on to tell us readers about that lonely night on the hill. “If there is a more desolate, inhospitable habitation anywhere on the planet, I hope never to see it,” he confesses. The horrific winds meant that the summit try might well be canceled. It was freezing cold outside, maybe a hundred below; the deafening howl of the gale outside made conversation impossible. And as Krakauer waited for midnight to get there, a sinking reality came upon him. He was all alone on the tallest mountain in the world. It was truly “every man for himself” that night; no true bonding had taken place in the six weeks of training and acclimatization.

“An odd feeling of isolation hung in the air,” he confesses. “In this godforsaken place, I felt disconnected from the climbers around me — emotionally, spiritually, physically — to a degree I hadn’t experienced on any previous expedition. We were a team in name only, I’d sadly come to realize. Although in a few hours we would leave camp as a group, we would ascend as individuals, linked to one another by neither rope nor any deep sense of loyalty. Each client was in it for himself or herself, pretty much. And I was no different; I sincerely hoped that [my friend Doug Hansen] got to the top, for instance, yet I would do everything in my power to keep pushing on if he turned around.”

If you’ve read the book, or seen the network television film or the IMAX production based on it, you know that the events of the next day tragically unfolded in a way to highlight that selfish separation. Five people died at or near the summit, and Krakauer himself has to look into the depths of his own soul, and remember how he failed to stop and help a climber named Andy Harris. Eager to zoom ahead and “tag” the summit, and eager to climb down the Hillary Step and get back to the safety of Camp Four and the tents, he left others, with their empty oxygen bottles, to fend for themselves. The lack of unity on Everest turned out to be a fatal flaw.

Here in Ephesians 4, as we studied yesterday, Jesus Christ gives His Church some special gifts — in fact, Paul mentions five of them. Apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors, and teachers. What are they for? Verse 12 tells us:

“To prepare God’s people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up.”

But now, how long is this process to continue? Verse 13:

“UNTIL . . . we all reach UNITY in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.”

Tell me, neighbor — do we have unity in the faith today? Well, no. We don’t. I wish we did, and YOU wish we did. But we still have a long ways to go, don’t we? We still do too much climbing up the spiritual Mount Everests of our lives in Lone Ranger style, not willing to fasten our ropes to the next climber, not willing to share our Gatorade or spare set of crampons with someone we don’t agree with.

So how can this happen? “Unity in the faith”? The verse itself tells us, but let’s point out, first of all, that unity is more than just a feeling. We could get a whole bunch of believers standing in a circle, and we could all hold hands and we could all sing “Side By Side,” and it would FEEL pretty good. I’ve done that, and maybe you have too. But a feeling of unity doesn’t mean there IS unity, any more than a good feeling on the top of Everest would have kept that killer storm from blowing in. Here’s a helpful note from the New International Version text notes, though.

“Unity is not just a matter of a loving ATTITUDE,” they write, “or religious FEELING, but of truth and a common understanding about God’s SON.”

Notice: we’ll have unity when we understand two things: truth . . . and God’s Son. Friend, the more we get to know Jesus — and the truth as it is revealed in Him — the more we’re going to experience unity.
And verse 13 itself says the exact same thing. Listen again:

“Until we all reach unity in the faith AND IN THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE SON OF GOD.”

You know, it was this way in the early Christian Church, and specifically in the life of Paul himself! He knows what he’s writing about here. Remember that he was a hot-blooded zealot, a “religious person,” going around persecuting people who didn’t agree with him theologically. And then one day, there on the Damascus Road, he met a Man named Jesus. He fell in love with this man named Jesus. And all at once, he realized, “Uh, you know, I think I’ve made a mistake. Here I’ve been throwing people in jail, and when it comes right down to it, they’re devoted to the same Jesus I am.” And persecutors became partners in the Body of Christ.

I’ve experienced shades of the same many times in my own ministry, but I’d rather tell my favorite story about “The Chief,” the founder of this radio ministry, Pastor H. M. S. Richards, Sr. At the age of 76, he was invited to teach a college class at the California Graduate School of Theology, right down the street from the old Voice of Prophecy headquarters in Glendale. According to Bob Edwards, who details the story in his biography about his boss, Pastor Richards had 59 ministers in his class. Baptists, Methodists, Pentecostals, Lutherans . . . and of course, Richards was a dyed-in-the-wool Adventist minister of seven-plus decades. And the old man would just get up in front, and with his quiet, dynamic way of presenting, talk about Jesus. His curriculum theme was: “Preaching From the Life of Christ,” and that’s all he talked about: Jesus. And at the end of almost every lecture, the 59 preachers would get up out of their chairs and give him a standing ovation. That’s a true story.

Let me close with this word of exhortation from the Tyndale New Testament Commentary, by Francis Foulkes:

“The end of the Church’s journey,” he writes, “is described in three ways. First, it is the unity of the faith. Where the faith is duly communicated, people from their different backgrounds of error and ignorance come into a growing understanding of the ‘one hope,’ an increasing dependance on the ‘one Lord,’ and so to a developing appreciation of the ‘one body.’ The goal must be unity in the faith. Secondly, it is emphasized . . . that faith is not just the acceptance of a collection of dogmas, in the embracing of which unity will be found. It is something deeper and more personal. It is unity in the knowledge of the Son of God. We can never know any person simply with our mind; and knowledge of such a Person as is envisaged here must involved the deepest possible fellowship.”

Friend, do you CARE about unity? Here at the Voice of Prophecy we sure do. God wants it. The Bible teaches it. The Christian faith demands it. The Church is committed to it. But it can only happen when YOU get to know Jesus — really know Him — and I get to know Him too. Then at last, with the same mountain guide, we’ll truly be climbing partners on the same climbing team.