If you had asked me when I was a very young man what the cause of church division is, I would have said that it was unfaithfulness to proper doctrine. In my particular sect (as in “section” of Christianity), it would have been a departure from any number of important, even “necessary”, teachings. Most of them, however, revolved around what we did when we came together. In other words, what we did when we met to “worship.” I was led to believe, and believed it all too readily because I want more simplistic answers than life actually gives, that those who were in disagreement with “us” on the issues were out of step with God’s will for their lives because their hearts were bad.
My denomination, for example, taught that church music should be without instruments – voices only. Anyone who practised something else did so because they were unwilling to be obedient to God. It was that simple.
Never mind that now, after years of reflection, I have no idea at all where they came up with that one. And never mind that I actually prefer acapella music. And let’s just say, for the sake of the argument, that they are right on this one. Were we right to exclude from the kingdom (as if we had the power to do so in the first place) anyone who had a different view on this subject? If not, why preach it in the first place?
Another way of asking the same question is, why do people dispute with one another – especially about stuff that two good-hearted people disagree on? Who knows why people come to blows. I sure don’t.
Actually, I do know, and so do you. I know full well why people fight and argue and go to war and kill their brother in a fit of rage. I know because I’m pretty good at it myself.
You see, the sad truth about me is that in spite of me being a cemetary graduate (a bad joke about preacher training schools), and in spite of the fact that I have been involved in church ministry for over forty years, I am still a horrible person. I know what some of you are going to say, that I’m too hard on myself, but you are wrong to defend me. I’m as guilty as the day is long. Worse yet, I’m all into self-preservation. Even though I know I am a sinful man, and even though I am reasonably sure that God knows the hard truth about me, I do want so to look good in your eyes. And I will do whatever it takes to accomplish that goal of preserving the image – my image.
Unfortunately, this controlling desire of mine to look unguilty (as opposed to innocent) leads me to engage in diversionary tactics. Like the Lone Ranger would tell Tonto, “You create a diversion, and I’ll sneak up on ‘em from behind.” I am fairly adept at creating spiritual diversions in a good faith effort to get the spotlight off of me, at least keep it off of my shortcomings.
Let me give you my best example: My wife nails me on some finer point of the household law. Like, “I’ve asked you a thousand times to shut the cabinet doors when you finish.” Now, I know she just pulled that number out of her head. I seriously doubt that she has a tally sheet with a thousand marks on it with “TIMES I TOLD HIM TO SHUT THE CABINET DOORS” written boldy at the top. But she is right about one thing, she has “asked” (insisted would be a much more accurate term) me a lot of times to shut the cabinet doors.
And so each time she makes a statement similar to that one (which by the way, sounds unfairly lawyerly), I am faced with a dilemma. The right thing to do is to admit to what is obviously the truth, tell her that I am sorry, and take my lumps. But the truth is, I’m far too prideful for that, so I tell that little Tonto in my head, “You create a diversion, and I’ll sneak up on her from behind.” Then my little Tonto says in a tone far too sarcastic for a renegade Indian, “Hey, why don’t you get rid of some of the clutter in my closet before you start preaching to me about cabinet doors?”
That’s all it takes. I knew it before I instructed little Tonto to utter the words. I’m serious. One minute she was pointing out one of my many flaws, and the next we are off to the races. I know I’m not going to win, but at least the argument is on my turf now. At least it’s not all about me. Now, it’s about her anger. “Look, Baby, you need to just calm down and discuss this rationally!” More gas on the fire.
Look, Jesus was very plain about this – so plain, in fact, that our missing it would be humorous if it weren’t so critical. Don’t you remember what he said about the Pharisees? Paraphrased, he said, “You’re good at doing all the external stuff. You have your public “worship” down pat. You give a tenth of all you have. Yes, you are very good about letting us all know about how good you are at keeping the law. But you forgot one small thing – that ‘outward’ stuff means very little to me. What really matters is judgment, mercy, and faith.” Earlier, he accused them of straining out a gnat but swallowing a camel. Another time he ordered them, “Go and learn what this means: I desire mercy, not sacrifice.”
They were good at doctrine. They were good at all the “external” stuff. I’m sure that their “worship” was orderly and proper - very religious…very pious…very orthodox. They had public sacrifice and prayer down to a fine art. They missed the point.
The point is that you can be very religious – prominently so. Everyone may praise your wisdom and understanding of the scriptures. But if you miss the priority that God places on humility, mercy, grace, and kindness, you’ve missed it all. Francis Schaeffer calls it the “final apologetic” http://www.ccel.us/schaeffer.html. How we treat others is the one distinguishing mark of a true Christian. You can be right on issues and doctrines, but be as far from God as a man can get because you didn’t value what he values.
Maybe that’s why Paul beat the drum of unity so hard – Make every effort to keep the unity of the spirit through the bond of peace – because he knew how important it is to God. Maybe I should think about that the next time I’m tempted to draw up battle lines and have a little skirmish in the name of Jesus. Maybe you should think about that too. Is my “issue” as important as treating you in a way that would send a clear signal to the lost that we are people who have walked with Jesus?
Something to think about, something indeed.