Friday, August 3, 2018

My Essentials and Nonessentials, NOT Yours!

In essentials, unity. In nonessentials, liberty. In all things, charity.

This motto for Christian peacemakers was a beloved slogan in the church tradition from which I hail. It was so much a part of what we professed to be, that as a youngster, I assumed one of “our guys” must have coined it. When I learned that was not the case, I heard the slogan attributed to a number of different characters in church history. Eventually, it was attributed to Rupertus Meldenius, an otherwise unknown German churchman, based on its earliest appearance in a printed tract, circa 1627.

I have always appreciated the slogan, whoever framed it, but I also learned something about it early on. It is not really very workable where there is no consensus as to what constitutes an essential and what constitutes a nonessential. My church of origin, which was birthed of an historical unity movement, ironically, could be as dogmatic as anyone else over matters that many would deem opinion. In the meantime, it was quite an eye-opener to see our group labelled as a “cult” by others outside the camp who saw some things differently than we did. 

I did not grow up in a denominational setting. When I read the Statement of Faith for the denomination where I eventually landed, I did not agree on every point. However, the specific member church I joined apparently had some flexibility regarding how much detail they had to put into print. The local church’s statement was briefer, and I concluded that there was nothing that constituted an insurmountable obstacle to my involvement there. But, I wonder what I would have done had I been compelled to affirm each of the denomination’s positions, if it meant recanting some of my own?

If any of the specifics had been deal-breakers for me, I would certainly have continued my search for a home church. If any of them would have been presented to me as deal-breakers from the church’s vantage point, I suspect that I would have been sent on my way. But, what now would be my responsibility if I am granted membership in that church, knowing that I differ on a couple of things, here and there, that I regard to be “nonessential”? 1) I would have a responsibility to keep some things to myself unless asked; 2) I would have a responsibility to NEVER undermine that congregation in any of her positions; 3) I would have a responsibility to not attempt to draw adherents to my way of thinking; and, 4) I would have a responsibility, if ever entrusted with a teaching role, to stick only to the plethora of other topics that edify and unite believers.

On one level, these responsibilities are to the local church that has welcomed me into their fellowship. On a more profound level, my responsibility is to the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, each of Whom calls believers to unity.

When I was recently preparing a lesson on Jeremiah, I listened to an overview of the book online. It was helpful. The speaker provided a good sense of the flow of the book. But, about two-thirds of the way into his presentation, he became very strident about a point of view that differed from his own. On a matter that is nonessential to me, he used language such as “evil,” “hellish,” and “needs to be sent back to the pit from which it came.” Predictably, at some point, he had disabled the comments section.

For the sake of unifying behind ministry efforts, most churches adhere to some particular “systematic theology,” an orderly, rational, and coherent account of the Christian faith and beliefs. There is more to it than that, but essentially, the discipline leads us to various statements of faith. I suspect that most people are rooted in the systematic theology to which they were first exposed. Some study and change camps. Some study and stay put. Some tend to embrace the system which helps them to best wrap their heads around the mysteries of God. None of the systems are perfect. They all present hard questions. In my own experience, I seem to have settled on the ones that create the least troublesome questions.

Dr. John MacArthur, who no one would ever accuse of being coy regarding his beliefs, was speaking about some of the paradoxes in the Bible when it came to matters of man’s free-will versus God’s sovereignty, predestination versus “whosoever will may come,” man’s responsibility to persevere in his Christian walk versus the inability of man to lose his salvation, whether the Christian’s life is lived by God versus lived by the person himself, etc. MacArthur acknowledged the paradoxes and absolved himself of any responsibility for explaining them. He is in league with most thinking Christians who acknowledge such paradoxes. He defends his own positions capably, but I noticed that the paradoxes he acknowledges reflect the precise questions that would be posed to him in a debate by someone coming from a different point of view.

What intrigues me is that if these paradoxes exist, and members of differing schools of thought all concede that they exist, then, how important can it really be to WIN an argument about Calvinism, Arminianism, Pelagianism, semi-Pelagianism, and so on? By all means, know what you believe. Cling tenaciously to your systematic theology, whatever that may be. But, if we all acknowledge the paradoxes, surely we can all agree on the need to hold to our beliefs with humility and grace.

We call such things (that have been discussed and written on by full-time thinkers for centuries), “nonessentials.” In other words, we do not typically consign one another to the eternal fires of Hell over our respective positions. Yet, we sometimes debate them with a passion that reflects that it actually matters to us that we win. On the one hand, we say that we accept members of another camp as brothers while, on the other hand, we put forth a very powerful vibe that they are somehow lesser brothers, a vibe people pick up on eventually. I never really beat such doctrinal drums that I can recall, but I have known many who seemed to feel a burden to harangue others to their own views of orthodoxy. It often left me wondering how many people through the years have left churches thinking, “I did not think it mattered, but I guess it did.”

There are times when such debates sharpen us. There are other times when it might be wiser to bite one’s tongue, to put one’s hand over one’s mouth, and to abstain from trying to provide an exhaustive explanation for the unknowable workings of God.

1 comment:

  1. I think it is okay to debate issues that come up about different views of things pertaining to Christianity, but sometimes we can debate a subject to death and nothing seems to be accomplished except bitterness between the debaters, resulting in disunity and separation, which often leads to church-hopping by those involved. And ultimately we lose focus on Jesus Christ who we are called to imitate.

    ReplyDelete