The Body

Colson's central argument is that the Christian church faces a profound identity crisis, having confused itself with buildings, programs, and consumer preferences rather than understanding itself as the called-out people of God. The book draws on theologians such as Francis Schaeffer, Carl F. H. Henry, and Richard Neuhaus, as well as research trips to post-Communist Eastern Europe and visits to American congregations.

The book opens with a composite narrative set in a fictional Southern town called Riverton. Riverton Community Church, a prosperous congregation led by the efficient Dr. George Killian, prizes orderly services and an impressive building complex. When Father John Conway, an Episcopal priest married to the daughter of two Riverton Community pillars, announces plans to convert an abandoned fire station into a homeless shelter, the church board denies the shelter parking spaces, prioritizing members who rush from services to country club brunch. The chapter closes with a striking contrast: homeless men studying the Bible under warm lights in the shelter while the grand church next door sits dark and empty.

Using this narrative as a springboard, Colson diagnoses a crisis in American Christianity. Surveys show that 81 percent of Americans say they can form their own religious views without a body of believers, and pollster George Gallup found little difference in ethical behavior between churchgoers and non-churchgoers. Colson argues that Christians have substituted institutionalized religion for a living faith, measuring success by head counts rather than spiritual maturity. He insists that Christianity is inherently corporate: There is no Christianity apart from the church.

In Part 1, Colson critiques the consumer mentality in congregations, warning that this approach dilutes the gospel and strips the church of authority. He contrasts megachurch consumerism with a pastor named Brian, whose congregation shrank from 220 to about 100 after he prayed for only committed believers, then began experiencing genuine renewal. This illustrates Colson's contention that holiness, not numbers, is the true measure.

To show the church functioning under persecution, Colson tells the story of Pastor Laszlo Tokes and the Hungarian Reformed Church in Timisoara, Romania. Tokes revitalized a dying congregation of fewer than 50, growing it to 5,000 through catechism, Bible studies, and reformed worship under Communist surveillance. When the government ordered Tokes's eviction in December 1989, members formed a human shield around the church, joined by believers from multiple denominations. The protest triggered Romania's revolution; by Christmas Day, dictator Nicolae Ceausescu was executed and churches filled with worshipers.

Colson establishes the biblical definition of the church based on Jesus's declaration to Peter. The Greek word ekklesia, translated "church," never refers to a building; it denotes a called-out assembly. He distinguishes between the church universal, the invisible spiritual body known only to God, and the church particular, the local visible congregation. Drawing on British writer and Christian apologist C. S. Lewis's concept of "mere Christianity," Colson argues that believers should respect doctrinal differences while standing together on the great orthodox truths all Christians share. He examines the marks of a true church: the primacy of the Word; true fellowship, or koinonia, involving both support and accountability; the sacraments of baptism and the Lord's Supper; prayer and worship; and the presence of the Holy Spirit.

Part 2 addresses the tension between the church and the world. Colson asserts that Jesus's claim to be the truth is not metaphorical but literal, establishing Christianity as ultimate reality. He traces how the Judeo-Christian consensus undergirded Western civilization, from the scientific method's reliance on an orderly universe to Western law's foundation in divine moral law. He describes the dominant secular world-view through two groups: the "Donahueites," who trivialize meaning through talk-show relativism, and the "Goodmanites," intellectuals who attack absolute truth. He identifies five traits of this outlook: secular, antihistorical, naturalistic, utopian, and pragmatic. Surveys show that 67 percent of Americans deny absolute truth, and 53 percent of self-identified Bible-believing Christians agree.

In an extended narrative, Colson traces the church's role in the fall of Communism across Eastern Europe, from workers who repeatedly erected a cross in Nowa Huta, Poland, through the revolutionary events of 1989, including the election victory of Solidarity, Poland's anti-Communist labor movement, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and Romania's revolution. He argues that the real force was not political maneuvering but the persecuted church. He warns that the Western church faces its own captivity to secular culture, as mainline denominations adopted wholesale political agendas while conservative evangelicals naively equated political access with spiritual influence. Recounting the story of Martin Luther, the 16th-century Reformer whose discovery of justification by faith led to his courageous stand at the Diet of Worms, an imperial assembly, in 1521, Colson argues that commitment to truth and holy fear of God is what the church needs today.

Part 3 addresses how the church operates in the world. Colson insists that what the church does flows from who it is, and its first task is building communities of holy character. The Great Commission, Jesus's command to make disciples, baptize, and teach, is directed to the church, not to individuals alone. Drawing on the apostle Paul's letter to the Ephesians, Colson outlines the pastor's role: not to perform ministry but to equip ordinary believers for works of service, with practical examples spanning Scripture study, ethical training, marriage strengthening, and compassion ministries such as Prison Fellowship's volunteer programs and hospice support groups.

Colson critiques the celebrity syndrome in the church, arguing that biblical leadership is servant leadership modeled on Christ's self-emptying. To illustrate its ultimate expression, he tells the story of Father Maximilian Kolbe at Auschwitz. When the commandant selected 10 men to die in a starvation bunker, Kolbe, a Polish Franciscan monk, volunteered to take the place of a man who cried out for his family. Guards heard singing as Kolbe led the condemned in prayer. After two weeks, Kolbe was the last alive and was killed by lethal injection. Colson frames his sacrifice as the consequence of character shaped by lifelong commitment to Christ.

Colson discusses evangelism as a natural outflow of the church's character, arguing that in a post-Christian culture, traditional methods often fail to connect. He profiles Willow Creek Community Church near Chicago, which addresses unchurched suburbanites' objections while maintaining orthodox content, and insists that evangelism must bring converts into local churches for discipleship. The book's final chapters explore the calling to be "light" and "salt." As light, Christians form visible communities of witness: Colson profiles ministries rehabilitating people recovering from addiction, training prison volunteers, and tutoring inner-city children. As salt, Christians penetrate culture from within through reformed prison policies, overhauled criminal justice systems, and literature infused with Christian truth by writers such as Lewis and American novelist Walker Percy.

Colson concludes by arguing that the church must recover the fear of the Lord, the overwhelming awe of a holy God. He tells the story of Rusty Woomer, a convicted murderer on South Carolina's death row, and Bob McAlister, the governor's chief of staff who led Woomer to Christ. Woomer's transformation, from cleaning his cell to forgiving his abusive father and receiving forgiveness from the brother of one of his victims, demonstrates the gospel's power to change character. In his final hours before execution, Woomer's peace was so profound he ministered to the warden and guards. Colson closes with Woomer's words about God's radiance, "His love is so strong that it might hurt us when we meet Him" (411), and the charge from Ecclesiastes: "Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the whole duty of man."