Without question, one of the most disturbing trends in the world of theology is that, far too often, grace is eclipsed by theological legalism.

Twice today I encountered this in its most blatant forms by two very different types of people. Both were very passionate about theology and both, undoubtedly, believe that their attitude toward me or my teaching is justified and honoring to the Lord. However, I believe both of these men sacrificed the major issue – grace – in defense of minor issues in theology.

The first, whose name I will not share as he is undoubtedly well-known to most of you, caught me very much off guard (and it is not really easy to catch me off guard, as I receive dozens of “hate” emails every day from those who believe it is their job to put me back on the path of theological correctness). This man, a significant figure in the world of reformation theology, does not believe I take theology seriously enough. Of course, his reasons come (I imagine) from the fact that I don’t agree with him. And obviously, if I took theology seriously, I would agree with him! Ironically, this lack of grace often comes from those who believe most strongly in the reformed “doctrines of grace.” But this man sent me one of the most ungracious emails I have ever received. And, yes, it did hurt my feelings. But more than that, sensing that this man’s criticism of me comes from his general disdain for the “heresy” of Evangelical Calvinism – it discouraged me that someone who believes he is so right theologically could be so graceless personally.

The second came from a Fundamentalist who was quite disturbed that I would suggest that Catholics could be saved. To be fair, I remember in the mid-nineties when Billy Graham suggested the same on national television. I was so angry and confused. I could not believe that Billy Graham would be so theologically inept as to make such a suggestion. In order for me to retain the belief that Billy Graham was saved, I had to convince myself that he had just gone senile in his old age. But this came from someone who has been a believer for quite some time and is a leader in his local church. This one statement (“Catholics can be saved”) has served to disqualify me and all of my teachings. To him, I will forever be one of the many who has compromised my faith for the glory of acceptance among men.

Theological legalism is nothing new (and is certainly not limited to the world of theology). Think of the Pharisees who, according to Christ, strained out gnats and swallowed camels (Matt. 23:24). To the theological legalist, there is no such thing as a gnat. Christ spoke of the weightier things of the Law (Matt. 23:23). To the doctrinal legalist, all issues are equally weighty. Paul spoke of things of “first importance” (1 Cor. 15:3); to those who are theological Pharisees, everything is of first importance. There is rarely, if ever, a second.

I find this very typical of those who call themselves “true” Calvinists. You will sometimes be given more grace by these if you don’t claim to be a Calvinist. But if you claim to be so, you are never Calvinistic enough. They live to nit-pick all the minor details they believe you get wrong about reformed theology. Nothing makes them angrier than so-called “Evangelical Calvinists” (such as me). I also find this among those egalitarians who wear bitterness on their sleeves, believing everyone who opposes them is doing so in order to oppress. I see this among Christian evolutionists who attempt to belittle anyone who opposes their position (some even calling creationists “cultic”). This theological fundamentalism elevates doctrine above the mandates that the doctrine necessitates. Right belief becomes their primary call to righteousness.

And let me not forget Roman Catholics. The system itself demands acceptance of everything the Church has ever dogmatized, from the resurrection of Christ to the assumption of Mary. The Catholic Catechism – to which all Roman Catholics must submit – is almost as long as the Bible itself. And I rarely meet a gracious Eastern Orthodox. Though they disdain Catechisms, they seem to have an unspoken canon which produces an incredible arrogance. And then there are the Baptists . . . oh, where to begin?!

Of course, there are many exceptions to all of these and I don’t mean to indict any without qualification. There are some shining examples of grace, wisdom, and humility in all of these traditions. I think of my Eastern Orthodox friend Bradley Nassif. I think of Irene, our Roman Catholic commentator. I think of Thomas Schreiner, an incredibly humble Baptist scholar and pastor. And, as you have noticed, I placed my own Calvinistic tradition on the stand. But the sad truth is that very often, the deeper one gets into theological passions, the more corrupt our ability to treat others with grace and humility becomes.

Here are some ways to know if you are a theological legalist:

1. You don’t think there are “minor theological issues”
2. You always define yourself with the word “true” in front of it (e.g., “I am a ‘true’ Calvinist,” “I am a ‘true’ Baptist,” or “I am a ‘true’ Christian”).
3. Your statement of faith or catechism is so detailed that no one but your particular tradition can sign it.
4. Your passions focus on the small issues and this finds expression in your personality.
5. Most of your theological writing and/or discussion focuses on where other Christians have gone wrong.
6. You have a bulldog mentality with regard to your “pet” issues; you cannot let things go emotionally. You have to leave the room.
7. When one disagrees with you they are forever defined by that disagreement (“There goes Joe the Arminian,” or “I would like to introduce you to Katie the Complementarian.”
8. You think belief is either black or white, you either have it or you don’t; there is no in-between and certainly no room for doubt.
9. You think all those outside of your tradition are either going to hell or are less spiritual than you are (i.e., all Catholics are going to hell, all Protestants are going to hell, all those who suggest otherwise are going to hell, etc.)
10. There are only three reasons why people disagree with you: 1) they don’t have enough or the right knowledge, 2) they have compromised, and/or 3) they are justifying in some sin.
11. No one outside of your tradition wants to talk theology with you (and you take it as a badge of honor).
12. When you write about other Christians, you continually find yourself putting the word “Christian” in quotes.
13. Your statement of faith is so qualified no one can understand it.
14. You are always shutting conversation down by accusations of logical fallacies ad absurdum.

Of course we all have these problems from time to time. And I am not saying the word “Christian” should not be placed in quotes for some people. But if you find yourself identifying with many items on this list too often, you may have the problem of doctrinal legalism which, in my opinion, is the most dangerous trap out there for those of us who love theology. I have been there and still wrestle with my own theological legalism. But this is something we all need to repent of, and teach our students and children about its dangers.

If you love theology, please be the first to put on the attitude of humility. When someone speaks about you in this regard, don’t have your goal to be for others to think you are smart or right, but rather humble and meek. When others talk about your personality with regard to theological discourse, would they say you are arrogant and legalistic, or gracious and gentle? This does not mean we sacrifice our passions or beliefs, it just means we temper ourselves for the sake of the Gospel. The truth is too important for us to lose our witness due to theological legalism.

Titus 3:2
[Instruct them] to malign no one, to be peaceable, gentle, showing every consideration for all men.

Phi 4:5
Let your gentle spirit be known to all men. The Lord is near.

2 Tim 2:25-26
With gentleness correcting those who are in opposition, if perhaps God may grant them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth, 26 and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will.

I am a Calvinist; others are Arminian. I believe in a premillenial eschatology; others are amillenial. I am a traducianist with regards to the creation of the soul; others are creationists. I believe in reasoned inerrancy; others believe this is an archaic naive doctrine. There are many points of doctrinal division I am going to have with people, some of which are much more important than others.

Why doesn’t everyone agree with me? Who is causing this disunity in the body of Christ, them or me? Do these divisions demonstrate the doctrinal bankruptcy of sola Scriptura? Should we elect a Pope of Protestantism? Or could it be that God has a purpose in his allowance of disagreements?

There are a few different ways that Icould answer this.

1. Others don’t agree with me because they have not studied deeply enough (lack of scholarship).
2. Others don’t agree with me because they have not studied broadly enough (lack of perspective).
3. Others don’t agree with me because they have not studied long enough (lack of wisdom).
4. Others don’t agree with me because their traditional prejudices have created a learning “disability” that keeps them from the truth (lack of freedom of thought).
5. Others don’t agree with me because they have sin in their life that is blinding them to the truth (lack of holiness).
6. Others don’t agree with me because we don’t have an infallible authoritative interpreter of Scripture that would bring doctrinal unity (lack of a Pope).
7. Others don’t agree with me because they are not Christian. If they were, well… they would agree with me! (lack of salvation)

Generally speaking, I do not default to these possibilities. Don’t get me wrong, these really are all possibilities. It could be that people deny the truth (assuming that my position is such) due to ignorance, lack of perspective or wisdom, traditional bindings, sin, lack of authority, or a presupposition of godlessness or naturalism. But I think we need to be careful about any negative prejudgments about people’s motives and the ultimate reasons for disagreements. We normally don’t know.

Here are the considerations I would aspire to make before I fall back upon the previously mentioned possibilities.

Others don’t agree with me because they are right and I am wrong.

Granted, I amconvicted I am right. If this were not the case, I would simply change my position. But the possibility always exists that I am the one who is in error, misinformed, motivated by false pre-understandings, tradition-bound, or lacking perspective. I must consider this with great humility, as hard as it is to do.

There are some things of which I am more sure than others. For example, I am far less likely to be wrong about the existence of God than I am about my belief in a pre-tribulational rapture of the church. As well, I am humbled by the fact that there are many things I used to believe that I no longer do. I held to these former beliefs with (what seems to be) just as much conviction as many of the beliefs that I hold to now. What do I do with that? In most of those cases, the evidence, or lack thereof, militated against my previous doctrinal commitments and forced me to make hard adjustments. Very hard adjustments. For example, I used to believe that if someone did not accept the doctrine of inerrancy, they were not Christian. This was due to my fundamentalist presuppositions no doubt, but when faced with the evidence – that there are many people out there who do not hold to inerrancy, yet love and trust the same Christ as me – my position either had to change, or slumber in the bedroom of naiveté. I still have those decisions to make. It is called learning.

What I must realize is this: there is not one belief that I hold to which is protected by infallibility. Infallibility is the other side of the coin of absolute certainty. Absolute certainty can only be held by those who have all the information and are interpreting it correctly. To be infallible means that you cannot fail. Since I am not infallible, by definition, I can fail. All of my beliefs are subject to my attribute of fallibility. There is no one who possesses infallibility. Even Roman Catholics who try to alleviate themselves of this reality by trusting in the dictates of an infallible magisterial authority, such as the Pope, inevitably face the same problem, since their own trust in the infallible authority of the Pope is fallible. The same holds true for Evangelicals and our infallible Bible. Our belief in the Bible is fallible, even if the Bible itself is not. No one can escape their own fallibility. Therefore we all could be wrong. We are left to rely on a process of examining and weighting the evidence and following it wherever it leads. This will often cause us to change our beliefs.

Therefore, serious consideration must always be given to the proposition that people don’t agree with me because I am the one who is wrong.

Others don’t agree with me because God does not want us to agree, regardless of who is right.

This may sound odd, but we must consider it. I said earlier that I was a Calvinist. While this does not give me exclusive right to the doctrine of God’s sovereignty, it does require me to consider what part it might play in the question: Why doesn’t everyone agree with me? What I am really asking is this: Why isn’t everyone unified around the truth?

I believe that it is a real possibility—even likelihood—that God does not want absolute doctrinal unity right now. In fact, practically speaking, it could do more harm than good. I believe doctrinal disagreements are often healthy for the church. When there is conflict between opposing viewpoints, the issue at hand is understood at a more profound level than is possible in the absence of conflict. Conflict, in the end, can bring about a deeper conviction of the truth. When there is no conflict, there is no iron sharpening iron in the same way.

I am not in any sense trying to relativize the truth, but to help us understand that wrong beliefs, even our own, could be serving the purpose of God and bringing Him more honor than we recognize. It is often said that heresy is God’s gift to the church. Why? Because when a false option is presented the truth becomes much clearer. In contrast there is clarity. In clarity there is conviction.

It is for this reason that we must be continually engaged with alternative options. As hard as it is to engage in beliefs that go against our present convictions, we need to recognize the value of the struggle. Herein lies what I believe to be one of the greatest strengths of the Protestant doctrine of sola Scriptura—it presents the opportunity to wrestle with the issues at a level that is not allowed for in magisterium-based traditions.

What I am saying is this: it may actually be God’s sovereignty that brings about division over the doctrine of God’s sovereignty! This does not mean that wrong belief is always justified. Wrong belief is often (though not always) the result of sin. Neither does it mean that we need to be content with agnosticism or lessen our conviction about any doctrinal issue. To the contrary. It means that we engage in it more vigorously than we did before, being confident that God has a dignified reason for conflict resulting from diversity. In the end, we will find that through the conflict our beliefs become stronger, not weaker. I believe we must open ourselves up to the possibility of being wrong in order to find truer faith and conviction.

We have learned to celebrate diversity in every area of life. We celebrate the diversity of the sexes. Men: can you imagine a world where women did not contribute to a balanced perspective? That is horrifying. Women, can you imagine the opposite (don’t answer that!)? Think of the diversity among personalities, nations, political parties, age groups, and cultures. While we may believe that our opinion is correct (and it may be), from a certain perspective we can appreciate dissent in values, beliefs, and practices. Understanding diversity can often cause us to see that the answer to many issues is going to be more of a both/and rather than an either/or. We could both be right and we could both be wrong.

In the end, if God is in control, then the answer to my question is relatively simple. Why doesn’t everyone agree with me? Because it is not God’s will for them to do so. This is to His glory. Why? His will is better accomplished through diversity. In this I think we can learn to celebrate diversity without yielding to the postmodern matrix of relativism, uncertainty, or apathy.