Can we turn to Revelation 3, beginning in verse 7?
And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write:
He that is holy, He that is true, He that hath the key of David, He that openeth and none shall shut, and that shutteth and none openeth, saith these things:
I know thy works—behold, I have set before thee a door opened, which none can shut—that thou hast a little power, and didst keep My word, and didst not deny My name.
Behold, I give of the synagogue of Satan, of them that say they are Jews, and they are not, but do lie—behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.
Because thou didst keep the word of My patience, I also will keep thee from the hour of trial, that hour which is to come upon the whole world, to try them that dwell upon the earth.
I come quickly: hold fast that which thou hast, that no one take thy crown.
He that overcometh, I will make him a pillar in the temple of My God, and he shall go out thence no more: and I will write upon him the name of My God, and the name of the city of My God, the new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from My God, and Mine own new name.
He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith to the churches.
Two other passages: Romans 15:7.
Wherefore receive ye one another, even as Christ also received you, to the glory of God.
And then Hebrews 13:1-2.
Let love of the brethren continue.
Forget not to show love unto strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
This morning, as we continue looking at church history as represented in the seven letters to the seven churches in Revelation 2 and 3, we have moved on to the church in Philadelphia.
As we have said before, at this point there are four churches running concurrently. We have shared on Thyatira and Sardis, and now we have the church in Philadelphia, which, from a prophetic perspective, began in the nineteenth century and will continue until the Lord’s return.
Philadelphia speaks of brotherly love. There are three ways to look at these letters. First, they were actual letters written to seven specific churches during the first century. Secondly, they speak to us today, because “He that hath an ear, let him hear what the Spirit saith.” The Spirit is still speaking, and we should consider what He is saying to us.
The third way to view these letters is the way we have been using them: as a prophetic outline of church history. Ephesus, Smyrna, and Pergamum each came to a close in their particular period. But four churches continue in parallel until the Lord’s return.
The question always before us is: Which one are we in? Are we in Thyatira? Are we in Sardis? Are we in Philadelphia? Are we in Laodicea? That is an individual question within our hearts.
Today we want to see what lessons we can learn from the letter to the church in Philadelphia. This period is represented by the early Brethren movement, which began in the nineteenth century.
This movement had a tremendous impact upon us today. D. M. Panton was among the first to write that the Brethren movement had a greater impact upon Christianity than even the Reformation itself. Many of us have read Panton and have been encouraged by his books.
He and others observed that the truths recovered by the early Brethren movement had a profound and continuing impact upon Christianity. What was the heart and essence of what the Lord recovered during this period?
There was a return to the simplicity of Scripture. We have seen that before, but it was more than a return to Scripture for individual Christian living. There was also a return to allowing the Scriptures to direct our lives together as the Lord’s people.
There was a fresh awakening that we are the Lord’s people; we are the body of Christ. When we gather, we do not gather unto a name. We do not gather in any other way but simply under the headship of Christ.
That reality was recovered as brothers and sisters simply came together to remember the Lord and to follow the ways Scripture showed them. They saw that their oneness was based upon what the Lord accomplished at Calvary.
They saw that there was a oneness in the Spirit, and that they did not need to attain to some outward unity. There was already an inward oneness—the unity of the Spirit—that had been accomplished. Through that, we are one in Christ.
Experientially, that oneness is worked out over time. It will not be perfected until the Lord’s return, but we operate from the basis that we are one in Christ, with Him as the Head. He is our all-sufficiency.
Another precious truth that was put into practice was the priesthood of all believers. Martin Luther and many others had spoken of this truth through the centuries, but the Brethren practiced it.
All brothers and sisters were encouraged to search the Scriptures together, to see the Lord for themselves, and to come together in a fresh way. Each one of us can approach the Lord. We have not only been saved; we have been made priests.
When we gather around the Lord’s table and offer up praise, we are priests ministering unto our Lord. It is not simply saved ones coming to give thanks. It is a practical expression of the priesthood, offering up that priestly sacrifice to our precious Lord.
Because there was such an open Word before the Brethren, many were searching the Scriptures. Some of the greatest Bible expositions in centuries came out of this period. Truths that had been hidden for a time were recovered because brothers and sisters searched the Scriptures for themselves.
In particular, many truths related to the Lord’s second coming were recovered. Before this period, there was not much said about the Lord’s return. But brethren began to search Daniel, Revelation, Ezekiel, and other prophetic Scriptures, and the Lord opened their eyes to see that He is coming back.
Truths concerning the millennium, the kingdom, and the church’s place were brought forward in a way that was accessible to brothers and sisters. We thank the Lord; we have much for which to be indebted to this time.
As we look at Philadelphia and the early Brethren movement, what were the conditions for which the Lord commended them? Were they commended for being spiritual giants? Were they commended for vast knowledge?
The Lord says, “I have set before thee an open door.” He has the key of David, and what He opens, no one can shut.
In one sense, this open door speaks of Christ as the door to the Scriptures. When we see Christ throughout Scripture, we see the fullness of Scripture revealed. But it also refers back to David, who is associated with the kingdom and kingship.
There was a recovery of the authority of the Lord Jesus Christ as King and Head over each local assembly. What He has opened, no one can shut.
The Lord commends them not for great power, but for their little strength. That always reminds me of the prophecy in Zechariah: “For who hath despised the day of small things?” Do not despise the day of small things.
Brothers and sisters, in the world the church will appear to have little power. Many try to make the church appear powerful through alliances with political movements or by becoming national churches. But in the Lord’s heart, His faithful testimony—the little flock—may have little strength in man’s eyes, yet there is great power in the Lord’s sight.
What does He commend them for? Two things: they kept His Word and did not deny His name. There is a focus upon the Word of God, because the Word is a revelation of Himself. They saw Christ in a greater and fuller way.
They also did not deny His name. They gathered in the simplicity of the promise that where two or three are gathered in His name, there He is in the midst. They were known by no other name.
The Brethren never took the name “Brethren” for themselves. Others assigned that name to them because they would say, “We are the brethren meeting in Plymouth,” or, “We are the brethren meeting in Bristol.” They simply referred to themselves as brothers and sisters.
There is no condemnation in the letter to Philadelphia. There are two churches with no condemnation: Smyrna, the suffering church, and Philadelphia.
But the Lord’s warning is this: “Behold, I come quickly: hold fast that which thou hast, that no one take thy crown.” They had something precious—not something they were trying to achieve, but something precious that the Lord had given them. He says, “Hold on to it. Do not lose it.”
How did they receive it? In the simplicity of keeping His Word and not denying His name, allowing Him to be all that He is. Often in the work of God, what the Lord begins can be lost through the actions of men. In essence, men can take away a crown.
How did the Brethren movement begin? It began during the first part of the nineteenth century. Throughout England, Ireland, and Scotland, there were believers who desired to return to the simplicity they saw in Scripture.
They desired fellowship with other believers. Yet because some were in the Church of England and others were in independent dissenting churches or nonconformist groups, barriers prevented fellowship. They could meet during the week, but on Sunday morning they all went to separate places.
There was a growing dissatisfaction with that arrangement. As they read the Scriptures, they said, “Something is not right here.”
One brother in particular, Dr. Edward Cronin, was living in Dublin, Ireland, in 1825. He visited different assemblies and broke bread with them. At first he was welcomed, but after a few weeks each group would say, “Brother, we are glad you are here, but in order for you to continue meeting with us, you must become a member.”
Cronin had seen from Scripture that when we are born again, we become members of the body of Christ. There is nothing additional to join. He could not accept the idea of becoming a member of a local organization.
He would go to another place and the same thing would happen. Eventually he was being persecuted, in a sense, because he would not become a member.
Another brother, Edward Wilson, was in one of these assemblies. The pastor publicly declared that Dr. Cronin could not partake of the Lord’s table because he was not a member. He was publicly ostracized.
This struck a chord in Edward Wilson’s heart. He and Cronin went back to the Scriptures, and they saw that they could simply come together in a home and break bread. So, in 1825, those two brothers came together in a home and broke bread.
About the same time, others in Dublin were meeting in the home of John Parnell, later known as Lord Congleton. By 1827, John Gifford Bellett and Anthony Norris Groves were also meeting with Cronin in the home of F. W. Hutchinson.
Bellett wrote The Moral Glory of the Lord Jesus Christ, a precious book concerning the moral glory of the Lord’s humanity upon the earth. Groves was a dentist. These were ordinary believers simply coming together to break bread.
Different groups in Dublin began to meet one another, and eventually they came together as one group. Years later, Dr. Cronin wrote a testimony looking back on those early days.
We soon began to feel, as humbler brethren were added to us, that the house in Fitzwilliam Square was unsuited. So we took a large auction hall to meet in.
The house he was referring to was Mr. Hutchinson’s home. These were lords, doctors, lawyers, and barristers. There was considerable wealth among them. But as humbler or simpler brethren were added, they wanted everyone to feel comfortable.
They said, in effect, “We need to rent a place that is open to all the brothers and sisters.” Though they were doctors, lawyers, and lords, they laid aside their titles. It was not, “Hello, Dr. Cronin,” or, “Hello, Dr. Groves.” It was simply, “Hello, brother.”
Regardless of background or economic condition, all were welcome. Cronin wrote:
Oh, what blessed seasons to my soul that was, when we and many others, while moving the furniture aside and laying the simple table with the bread and the cup in preparation for the meeting—oh, how the seasons of joy were never to be forgotten! For surely we had the Master’s smile and sanction in the testimony of such a movement as this.
Cronin also observed that, in the ways of God, the beginning of this movement came through obscure individuals in distant places and diverse positions. The substance of God’s grace and truth was dwelling in them, though with little intelligence.
I appreciated what Ralph shared this morning. They did not fully understand what they were doing, but they knew Whom they were following. In their following, and in their little intelligence, the Lord led them into paths agreeable with the mind of God.
Cronin observed that men such as Darby, Bellett, and others did not constitute the embryo at the beginning, though God later used them mightily. It was simply obscure individuals coming together to share the Lord’s Supper.
There was a preciousness there. Outwardly, they had little strength, but in the eyes of God it was a mighty force.
In 1827, Lady Powerscourt was also used to support the Brethren. She could be described as a patroness of the early movement. She passed away, I believe, in 1836.
She had attended prophetic conferences in England and saw how helpful they were. In Dublin, she made her large estate, Powerscourt, available for conferences and Bible teaching.
Darby and other brethren would gather for meetings that sound very similar to a summer conference: morning ministry, afternoon ministry, evening ministry, and times of fellowship. They were coming apart to hear what the Lord was saying and to encourage one another.
This sister was greatly used to support the work of God in those days.
Darby began meeting with the brethren in Dublin. He had been an Anglican clergyman, a curate, but he left that behind.
One of the pamphlets that came to define the Brethren movement was Darby’s The Nature and Unity of the Church of Christ. The essence of what he was saying was that we are not trying to achieve an outward unity. In Christ, by His Spirit, we are already united.
We are united, and we are called to maintain the unity we have in Him. That was a revolutionary statement. It created rumblings among many who had been content with the existing religious arrangements, but it answered a longing in many hearts.
Through the teaching of faithful brethren, this movement spread through England, Ireland, and eventually other parts of Europe. Meetings were started by humble and simple brothers and sisters, not by a hierarchy.
As believers searched the Scriptures and were helped by the teaching of others, they returned to the simplicity of Christ: gathering around His table, worshiping Him, and studying His Word together.
These were not a confederation of assemblies. There was no organizational attachment. There was a spiritual connection under the headship of Christ.
In 1829, Anthony Norris Groves left for Baghdad and India. Let us consider several significant brethren: Groves, George Müller, Robert Chapman, and J. N. Darby. They were very different individuals, but each represented something of what the Lord was doing at that time.
Groves was one of the original brethren who came together in Dublin. Later, he felt called of the Lord to leave England and Ireland and go to Baghdad and India as a missionary.
At that time he was a dentist with three children and a comfortable profession. Yet the Lord called him out. Throughout his life, he increasingly learned the assurances the Lord gave him as He called him forth.
According to worldly standards, Groves was well off. Yet he forsook it all to go to India and serve the Lord.
In his testimony, he wrote that he and his wife initially agreed to give one tenth of their income to the poor each year. As their burden for the lost increased, they increased this to one quarter.
Eventually they saw that they and all they had belonged to the Lord. They gave up the idea of percentage giving. They gave themselves fully to the Lord, simplified their manner of life, and gave away whatever excess they had.
They first gave themselves to the Lord.
When Groves and his family went to Baghdad, there was a terrible flood. After the flood subsided, a plague came upon the city. Of approximately forty thousand people, roughly thirty thousand died.
Groves and his family had chosen to remain and serve those who were suffering. His wife developed the plague, as did their youngest child, and he lost both of them in Baghdad while serving the Lord.
He said that one lesson became real to him in a fresh way: thorough honesty in dealing with God is indispensable.
He learned that honesty with God is a two-way street. Before this, he had thought honesty meant pouring out his heart, complaining, or telling God where he was. But during that time he learned that honesty with God means we pour out our supplications—and then we listen.
As he read through the Psalms, he saw how David would cry out to the Lord and pour out his heart. Then he would wait on the Lord, and the Lord would respond.
We see the same thing in Habakkuk. Habakkuk saw the condition around him and honestly poured out his heart: “How can You let all this happen?” Then he waited to hear what the Lord would say.
Sometimes we say that we are honest with the Lord, but is it a two-way street? We may be good at pouring out our complaints, but do we have an ear to hear what the Lord says after we have poured out our hearts to Him?
May we have that heart to hear. That is an honest heart: not only one that speaks, but one that listens. We need to be listeners in these days.
Our Lord loves us. He loves us to come before Him and pour out what is in our hearts. But He also wants to speak to us when we do that. May we hear.
After Groves was in Baghdad, he continued to India. He had one desire: to impress upon every member of Christ’s body that he or she had some ministry given for the body’s edification.
Rather than suppressing ministry, he desired to encourage every believer to come forward and serve the Lord. He believed that native believers needed to learn to lean upon the Lord rather than upon men.
His mission goal was not to draw men to himself, but to draw them to the Lord. The fruit of that approach continued through generations among believers in India.
Groves later returned to Bristol at the age of fifty-eight and went to be with the Lord in the home of George Müller. Müller cared for him in his final days.
We see Groves going out as a missionary by faith, totally dependent upon the Lord. The Lord met him and abundantly blessed His provision.
As we move on to the life of George Müller, one point from his early life is significant. From 1825 to 1828, he attended the University of Halle in Germany, a center of Pietism.
There Müller first saw schools for children and orphanages. The seed was planted in his heart for the work with orphans for which he later became well known.
Müller came to England and, through an illness, came into contact with the Brethren movement. In 1829 he met Henry Craik, and the two served the Lord together for many years.
Müller had a special place in his heart for children. Through the orphanages and the Scriptural Knowledge Institution for Home and Abroad, he desired that the gospel would go forth and that those living in difficult circumstances would come to the Lord.
When Müller began his orphanages, the condition of orphanage life in England was poor. If you want a picture of it, think of Oliver Twist. That was the sort of environment in which Müller began an orphanage based on love.
He committed himself that he would never ask publicly for money. There would be no public appeal for funds in the works he began.
Because of this, Müller became known as a man of faith. His journals record more than one million answered prayers. I do not know if I have ever lifted up a million prayers, but he recorded over a million that were answered during his lifetime.
To me, this shows the correlation between a life of faith and prayer. Müller was known as a man of faith because he was a man of prayer.
His key principles for prevailing prayer were:
This was his practice of prayer. There was no presumption in it. Even after many years of living by faith and prayer, he continually returned to the Lord in simplicity.
If you read Müller’s diary, there is testimony after testimony of how he would have a house full of orphans and no food for dinner, or no food for the next morning. They would simply go to the Lord in prayer.
They did not go out into the street asking for food. They went to their Father. Time after time, the Lord answered, and He answered abundantly.
Sometimes so much was given that they had to give it away to others. One afternoon they had no food for dinner, but so much was brought in that they could not eat it all and could not keep it overnight.
There is also the story of Robert Chapman coming for dinner one evening with a love offering from the assembly in Barnstaple. Unknown to Chapman, the orphanage had provision for dinner but none for breakfast the next morning.
They had prayed that afternoon for provision for breakfast. The love offering from Barnstaple covered breakfast for the orphans the next day.
Time and time again, the Lord proved Himself as they continually went back to Him in prayer.
Brothers and sisters, as we find ourselves in more difficult situations, we need in a greater way to be people of prayer. We talk about wanting faith: “Increase my faith.” But there is a direct correlation between faith and prayer.
Our faith is in the Lord Jesus Christ. As we make our supplications known to Him, appeal to Him, and lay our requests before Him, He meets those needs in a specific way. He not only meets them; He meets them abundantly.
George Müller was a man of faith because he was a tremendous man of prayer. We can be greatly encouraged by him.
Robert Chapman was serving in Barnstaple. He was invited to minister at Ebenezer Chapel, a Particular Baptist chapel. He agreed to come on one condition: that he would be free to share with them all that he saw in the Word of God.
He said, in effect, “I am not going to preach only what you want to hear. If you give me liberty to share whatever I see in the Word of God, I will come.” They gave him that liberty.
In Robert Chapman, we see one who not only saw the body of Christ, but who understood how essential love is to maintaining unity within the body of Christ. Chapman became known as the apostle of love.
There is a story that someone in a distant country sent him a letter without knowing his address. The envelope simply read: “Robert Chapman, Apostle of Love, England.” The letter arrived.
His reputation was such that his love transcended barriers—denominational barriers and even the barriers of unbelief.
There is a story of an agnostic on his deathbed. Believers came to speak to him, and he said, “I do not believe in the Lord because all of you are fakes.” They asked, “Have you ever seen a Christian?”
He said, “In all my life, I have seen one. There was one man, Robert Chapman, who was a Christian,” because of the love Chapman showed for the brethren.
Charles Haddon Spurgeon called Chapman the saintliest man he had ever known. That is quite a compliment coming from Spurgeon.
Chapman’s love had an objective: to maintain the perfect bond of unity that is in Christ. Love is not vague sentiment; it is directed toward preserving fellowship in the body.
First Corinthians tells us that love is patient. Chapman used to say, “Love is patient, but love is not passive.” Patience and passivity are not the same thing.
We can be patient, but that does not call us to be passive. In his patience, Chapman continued to show forth the love of God.
When he went to Ebenezer Chapel, he did not want to do anything that would divide the brethren. The assembly was not taking the Lord’s table every Sunday, and only those who had been baptized were received at the table.
Chapman knew that he could have simply told them that they needed to take the Lord’s table every Sunday and receive all whom the Lord receives. But those things were not yet real to the brothers and sisters.
So he patiently shared the Word of God with them over a period of about a year. He directed them to the Lord and encouraged them to seek Him.
The whole assembly eventually came around. Out of a desire to remember the Lord, they began partaking of the Lord’s table every Sunday. Seeing their oneness in Christ, they also came to receive one another as the Lord had received them.
Nobody left. There was no division and no murmuring. The patience of the Lord prevailed through our brother.
Unity was maintained because Chapman directed them to the Lord, not to himself.
Some of the Particular Baptists became upset because he was not following their practice of admitting only baptized believers to the Lord’s table. They told him that the chapel belonged to the Particular Baptists and that he would have to leave unless he followed their practice.
Chapman had been trained as a lawyer, so he searched the title deeds. There was no such restriction in the deed. It was simply an assumption that had arisen in their minds.
But for the sake of unity, he said that the building was not the important thing; maintaining unity was. He essentially said, “If you want the building, you may have the building. We will meet elsewhere.”
The assembly moved, and the Particular Baptists received the building. Nothing much ever happened in that building, but where Chapman and the assembly went, the Lord continued to grow and multiply the fellowship.
The assembly at Barnstaple was known for two things. First, it was known for love among the brethren. This was due in large measure to the example of Robert Chapman.
Chapman understood that one of the quickest ways brothers and sisters become divided is through murmuring, backbiting, and speaking against one another.
He had a practice that would be good for all of us. When someone came to complain about another brother or sister, or about something the leadership was doing, Chapman would put on his coat and say, “Well, let’s go talk to that person.”
If someone had a complaint against a sister, he would say, “Let’s go over and talk to her.” He would bring the people together and seek to talk the matter through and reconcile it.
He would not allow backbiting and murmuring to continue. He did not entertain such thoughts. He directed people back to the Lord and toward one another, so that matters could be settled.
Most things people were offended by turned out to be misunderstandings, imaginations, or lies from the enemy. When people went to one another, things could be cleared up.
It also prevented brothers and sisters from taking up offences for others. If I offend someone, the offense is really between that person and me. But others can take it up and become offended on someone else’s behalf.
I remember sharing something a few years ago about a brother, and immediately wishing I had not said it. After the meeting, I went to that brother and we got it clear. We were fine.
But for months afterward, people kept coming to me about how I had offended him. They had taken up the offence, even though he and I were fine.
Chapman was excellent at stopping that from the beginning. As soon as words of complaint came out, he would go to the brother or sister involved. He would say, “We need to go to one another.”
Not in a spirit of correction, but in a spirit of restoration—restoring fellowship.
Chapman wrote:
We need one another, and are dependent on one another, not as fountains, but as channels of blessing.
Would the Lord open our eyes to see how much we need one another and how His life flows from one to another?
Chapman also wrote:
If there be but a shadow of disunion between us and any brother or sister, let us not give ourselves rest until we bring about a reconciliation. Let us search out what in our own ways may have caused the breach, and seek after a communion with our brother like that of the Father with His dear Son. We should moreover watch against everything in us that may wound or grieve our brother, so that we may be wise to prevent breaches of fellowship.
Brothers and sisters, when we allow things to remain unsettled between us, it says that we do not really see the body of Christ. We do not see how much we need one another or how much we are members of one another. May the Lord quicken all of us.
Chapman further wrote:
If we would so love all saints as to please God, we must bear in mind that their names are written in heaven and on Christ’s heart. Otherwise, we shall love some because they are lovely, and dislike others because of their blemishes.
If we could see that all the saints’ names are written in heaven and on Christ’s heart, it would change much in us.
The second matter for which Chapman was known was hospitality. He wrote that hospitality is a uniquely practical and observable expression of agape love.
He said, in essence, that hospitality is not an option but a command. If we are not hospitable, our assemblies become Sunday-morning religious institutions rather than the household of God.
Chapman practiced hospitality. When he moved to Barnstaple, he bought a home in a poor district and added rooms so that brethren could come and stay.
Anybody was welcome to come and stay in his house. He never asked, “How long are you coming for?” or, “When are you leaving?” You were simply welcome to remain as long as you needed.
He trusted the Lord to be his appointment scheduler—to bring people in and send them out.
A young brother who had ministered with Hudson Taylor in China stayed with Chapman while home in England. He later testified:
The whole ordering of the household had in view not only the comfort, but the general spiritual, mental, and physical well-being, of the many who came there for rest. It struck me at the time as being, in its arrangement and conduct, an ideal Christian household. Love and reverence for the Scriptures, and subjection thereto, formed the very atmosphere of the home.
The table talk was turned to spiritual ends in a way I have never experienced elsewhere. An ordinary meal became an agape love feast, more helpful than any long meeting. The living was plain, but good. To stay there for a few days could not but deeply influence the whole life of a young Christian.
It was a Bethany of refreshment, because people found the Lord there.
Robert Chapman also had a practice in his home that reflected the Lord’s washing of the disciples’ feet. When visitors came to stay, he would give them a room and ask them to leave their shoes outside the door.
Every night, he would clean their shoes. In those days there were no paved roads as we know them, and shoes became dirty. He would clean them and set them back outside the visitor’s room.
Most people objected, much like Peter objected when the Lord wanted to wash his feet. They did not want this great man of God cleaning their shoes.
Chapman explained:
It is not the custom in our day to wash one another’s feet. That which most nearly corresponds to this command of the Lord is to clean each other’s boots.
He did not merely teach; he practiced. He lived a life of love, hospitality, and giving to the saints because he saw the burden upon the Lord’s heart to draw the people of God back to Himself.
As men such as Groves, Müller, Chapman, and Darby continued to minister, the early Brethren movement spread. Müller went to the continent to share, and Darby went to Switzerland and other places.
Darby met brethren in Switzerland who had come out of various earlier movements, including those influenced by Anabaptist and Moravian backgrounds.
About twenty years had passed since the beginning, and things seemed to be going well. The love of the brethren was continuing.
It was not that all these brothers and sisters had no differences of opinion. They had differences. They were not clones. Each knew the Lord in a particular way and had different impressions, teachings, and practices, but they were united in the central things.
But the enemy hates such fellowship. The largest assembly at that time was in Plymouth, England, which is why the movement became commonly known as the Plymouth Brethren.
There was a brother in Plymouth named Benjamin Wills Newton. When Darby returned, he detected what he believed to be heretical teaching. Others had already warned him about Newton.
Darby listened to the teaching, and most people concluded that it was indeed heresy. After six months, Darby withdrew from the meeting and began another meeting elsewhere in Plymouth. This was the first major division.
A couple of years later, two brothers from Newton’s original meeting went to Bristol and broke bread with Müller and Craik there.
When Darby heard about it, he wrote to Müller and said that they needed to judge the issue. Müller and the brethren at Bristol said they would not judge it as a matter of authority over another assembly. They said it was a local issue and that Bristol had no jurisdiction over Plymouth.
Eventually the brethren at Bethesda Chapel in Bristol considered Newton’s teaching and concluded that it was heresy. But they would not condemn the whole assembly because of the teaching of one man.
They said that if an individual came from that assembly, they would consider the individual personally: Was he clear before the Lord? Did he hold the heresy? If he was clear, he would be welcome.
They would deal with matters on an individual basis, but they would not write off or condemn an entire assembly because of the error of one teacher.
This response did not satisfy Darby. He excommunicated Müller, Craik, and the Bethesda group from the Brethren fellowship. This became known in history as the Bethesda Question.
At its heart, the issue concerned discipline. When there is error, do you condemn an entire assembly, or do you hold the individual accountable?
Müller and his companions said they would consider each individual. They believed the Lord’s table should be guarded carefully, yet without carelessly excluding believers.
The brethren were right, at first, to inquire of strangers who came among them whether they were Christians. It was not an examination involving one hundred questions. They simply wanted to ensure that a person understood what was taking place at the Lord’s table.
There was a right way to guard the Lord’s table. It was not to be treated carelessly. But one can also go to the other extreme, examining everyone according to a fixed list of questions and becoming exclusive.
Because the Bethesda group did not condemn the first Plymouth group, Darby’s group excluded Müller and excommunicated the Bethesda fellowship.
This forced other previously independent assemblies to judge the Bethesda Question. Assemblies in the West Indies, on the continent, and elsewhere were asked to decide: “Are you with Plymouth or Bethesda?”
This brought about a great division. The two broad categories became known as the Open Brethren and the Exclusive Brethren.
The Open Brethren followed Müller’s approach: the table was open to believers, and whole assemblies were not excluded because of the error of one member. The Exclusive Brethren took the position that those associated with a judged assembly were excluded.
Many of their central doctrines were the same: the person of Christ, the Lord’s return, and other foundational truths. The main issue was one of practice and discipline.
Chapman went to Darby over the split and confronted him. Darby said, “But I waited six months.” Chapman responded, “I would have waited six years.”
Love is patient. When love is lost, we see the faults of others, we see differences, and we can find many things over which to divide.
In 1849, Darby went to visit Müller. The only record we have of the encounter is Müller’s later account. Müller did not meet with Darby. He believed Darby had done great damage and said he did not have time to meet with him.
The two were never reconciled. Many tried to bring reconciliation, but it never occurred. Great barriers were erected between believers who had once gathered together in the simplicity of the Lord.
Edward Cronin, who had testified so beautifully of the simplicity of the early days, was later excommunicated. He visited another town and fellowshipped with believers there, but his home assembly did not agree with the group he had visited, and they excluded him.
One of the founders of the movement was excluded from it. They became so dogmatic about preserving truth that they missed the love of God.
We speak much of life and love. That is what the Lord is looking for. He is far more concerned that His life be formed within us than that we merely defend truth.
That does not put truth down in any way. Do not misquote me on that. But the Lord is deeply concerned that His life be lived out within us and that the love of the brethren continue.
Love covers a multitude of sins. It does not expose sin carelessly, and it does not condone sin. It covers sin and allows the Lord to deal with matters in His way and in His time.
There was a glorious period of about twenty years. After that, fragmentation followed: Müller and Darby split; Cronin was excommunicated; others divided. There were divisions involving Darby and Kelly, Grant and groups in Montreal, and many others. The movement continued to fragment.
May the Lord hold us in His love.
H. A. Ironside wrote about the history of the Brethren movement. In that context, Griffith Thomas observed that the Brethren did a wonderful job of rightly dividing the Word of God, but they did a horrible job of wrongly dividing themselves.
It is sad. The Brethren had a crown—a crown of life—and they almost took it off with their own hands.
In hindsight, when we look at what may seem to be petty things over which they divided, we see how much they lost.
We learn from positives, and we learn from negatives. One great lesson from the Brethren is both how to rightly handle the Word of God and how to maintain the unity we have with one another.
If you can find a history book on the Brethren, I would encourage you to read it. There are many riches in the love of the brethren, and also deep sadness in what later happened.
As Ironside was writing his book, he interviewed an older brother named Donald Ross, who was in his nineties and living in Chicago.
Ironside wrote that he called upon this veteran Open Brother shortly after receiving word that F. W. Grant had died. Mr. Ross was a patriarchal figure with a long flowing beard, sitting in a large chair.
When Ross’s son Charles mentioned that Ironside was associated with the Exclusives, Ross asked sharply, “Which branch?”
Ironside replied, “With those who refuse the judgment against Grant.”
Ross said, “Oh, I am glad of that.” Then, after a moment of silence, he exclaimed, “Frederick Grant is in heaven.”
Ironside replied, “Yes, he is with the Lord.”
Ross declared again, with particular energy, “Frederick Grant is in heaven.” Again Ironside answered as before.
Almost fiercely Ross exclaimed, “I tell you, Frederick Grant is in heaven! A little clique of men tried to cast him out of the church on earth. They let him die, so far as they were concerned, in the place of an excommunicant. But oh, what a welcome he received up there!”
He continued, “He is with those who cast him out. He is with Cecil now, and the two are reconciled. Soon I will be there too, and we will all have fellowship together at last.”
Then he said, “Frederick Grant was cast out himself, and yet because he was an Exclusive cast-out and I was Open, we could not have fellowship down here. But we will all be together and have glorious fellowship up there.”
What a pity that persons destined to such glorious privileges misunderstood one another so sadly on this earth.
Lord, we thank You.
Lord, how much You have loved us.
Lord, as we see this table, it displays Your love. This table displays how much You wanted us to be one, how You laid down Your life that we might be one.
Lord, we come and confess that we so carelessly divide.
Lord, work within our hearts. May we treasure Your Word. May we treasure Your name. May the love of the brethren continue, Lord.
May we walk together upon this earth in the oneness that we have in You, Lord.
Lord, guard us from our foolish ways. Guard us from the pride that causes us not to repent.
Forgive us, Lord, when we think that we know it, when we think that we have it, and when the arrogance of ourselves causes someone to stumble.
We thank You, Lord, for Your loving patience with us. Help us, Lord, to be lovingly patient with one another.
In Jesus’ name. Amen.