So Right, So Wrong

“The children of Israel have forsaken Your covenant, torn down Your altars, and killed Your prophets with the sword. I alone am left.” – Elijah, downcast and afraid, from I Kings 19:10

How easily we can swing between two critical errors: doctrinal sloppiness and self-righteousness.

Between the two I’d say doctrinal sloppiness is the easier one to notice. After all, something is either true or it’s not, the standard of truth to the serious believer is the Scripture, and in most cases, the verdict scripture gives on a matter is clear. So you can simply check what someone says or writes against the Word and come to a conclusion: what they’ve said is contradicted by the Bible, or affirmed by the Bible, or not addressed in the Bible. Simple enough.

Only these days it isn’t. Points of doctrine that have traditionally been clear and agreed upon are being muddied by a growing number of authors, pastors, and teachers. Yes, I know Christians have never had consensus on topics like eternal security, a pre, mid or post tribulation rapture of the church, or the efficacy of sprinkling versus immersive baptism. Big deal; these are hardly essentials. But structural points, like the exclusivity of Christ as the way to God, the existence of hell, and the definition of the family, are also being put up for grabs. No names needed; just Google these topics and see the trend towards moving doctrinal pillars that are designed for permanence. It’s a scary trend indeed; scarier still when justified as a kinder, gentler form of Christianity designed to avoid offense. (An argument any good mother would rebut with, “And if you were going over a cliff should I just say ‘That’s OK, Sweetie?’ ”)

Alarm is warranted when truth is treated so casually, and in response, plenty of individuals and groups have, thankfully, objected. I’d like to be counted among them. But while getting hot under the collar over error, I’ve got to watch my own attitude. Carefully. Because when I pat myself on the back for being right, I morph into something so wrong that, in God’s sight, my self-righteousness may out-stink the other guy’s doctrinal error 10 to 1. Here, and perhaps only here, I can find some common ground with the amazing Elijah.

First, he was tired. Jezebel had just publicly committed herself to his murder, he was no doubt drained after the contest at Carmel, and everywhere he looked he saw a formerly godly nation that was now in apostasy. So I can appreciate his depression. Today much of what we love in both Church and nation seems to be going south; there’s so much to lament; the uncertainty of the times is perhaps the only certainty of the times. Looking around, I get tired, and I’ll bet you do the same. And with tiredness there often comes extreme thinking.

Which leads to a second point: when many people are wrong, it’s easy to presume everybody’s wrong. That’s not only inaccurate, it’s also an insult to God’s sovereignty. After all, if He’s been able to keep you from error, is it really so inconceivable that He’s also kept several others in the truth?

And then there’s the arrogance factor, that ugly, all too human tendency to think that I, only I, am standing firm and have gotten it right. Mind you, I make no apologies for holding fast to positions plainly commended in the Word. Nothing wrong with that. But when I brainlessly tell myself I’m among the elite who haven’t bowed the knee to Baal, am I really so different from that fool of a Pharisee who thanked God for his imagined superiority? (Luke 18:10-14)

We don’t have to choose between truth and humility today. In fact, if we’re not walking in humility, then I dare say we’re not well acquainted with truth. On this point Jamison Fawcett and Brown, who authored one of my favorite of all commentaries, put it awfully well:

“It is a dangerous temptation to think there is no church where there is not apparent purity. He who thinks so, must at last separate from all others and think himself the only holy man in the world, or establish a peculiar sect with a few hypocrites.”