In G. K. Chesterton’s Ballad of the White Horse, King Alfred fights the pagan Danes in the battle of Ethandune, and in the last act of the battle, he finds his lords slain and his entire force beaten back in chaos. But in an awesome act of faith, Alfred musters his men despite their losses for a final charge, saying,
“The men that tear the furrows,
The men that fell the trees,
When all their lords be lost or dead
The bondsmen of the earth shall tread
The tyrants of the seas.”
Here Alfred knows that the common man will turn the tide of his battle, and not any of his great lords. When Alfred’s army drives back the pagan, the farmers and woodcutters are the ones most needed for the Christian victory. This need for the common soldier is no new thought. Ultimately, the skill and courage of every soldier is necessary, not just that of the commanders and generals. If any general sidelined all but his best men, every battle would be a massacre. Yet the church of our day seems to think that the common man is mostly unnecessary for the advancement of Christ’s kingdom.
The difficulty with this situation is compounded by the complicity of both sides. Both the “common men” and the “intellectual elite” of the church seem to agree, in practice, that kingdom work is reserved for the latter. Of course, this claim needs clarification. First, the distinction between “common men” and the “intellectual elite” is only intended to differentiate between those who focus naturally on the physical and those who focus on the intellectual. This distinction has nothing to do with valuing the intellectual over the physical, especially given the Reformation’s emphasis on the sanctity of all work. I must also stress the phrase “in practice.” I do not argue that the church has a theological problem but a practical one. The common soldier likely knows that he probably ought to be fighting, and yet finds himself with a growing number of others like himself twiddling their thumbs on the battlefield. And the intellectuals in the church act as though nothing is seriously wrong.
The infectious thumb-twiddling of the Church’s “common men” and the tactical blunder of her “intellectual elite” that presently plague her witness must be explained. In many churches – though not all – congregations have developed a notion that the ministers are responsible for the expansion of the church, and the laity are simply responsible for being that expansion – and for living as Christians in their daily life. The ministers, being given nearly the sole weight of the Great Commission, accept it without much protest. Perhaps others of the more intellectual bent shoulder some of the burden, but the remainder of the congregation is generally assumed to have little part in the battle. Their calling is merely to be a “Christian witness” in their workplace, while the intellectuals preach, teach, write, evangelize, podcast, and so forth.
This is not the path to victory. The tradesmen, farmers, engineers, and accountants of the church have more value than mere tithing and filling pews. The early church grew mightily because the common men and women of the church meditated on the gospel and shared it with their neighbors. The early church grew mightily because of the hospitality and service of those non-intellectual Christians who had a powerful zeal to see the church go forward and who knew that the Great Commission belonged to them as much as to the apostles. Tradesmen built the cathedrals, and they have built the church.
The church needs its intellectual leaders. The church needs men like Alfred and his lords, who can rally the common men in this battle that is our reality. But the zeal of common men and women in the church is indispensable. As Christ became incarnate, so do these incarnate Christ through their hospitality, service, and care for the needy.
The church needs both. But now, she needs the common man desperately. And when, by God’s grace, at last her feeble line is formed, the once-pagan hordes of our day will look back at all the Church united in her mission
“And marvel how and why
In such degree, by rule and rod
The people of the peace of God
Went roaring down to die.”
