It probably wouldn't take an astute Christian very long to discover that my theology is pretty comprehensive. I don't mean of course where I stand on those first-order truths of central importance; like the Trinity, Justification by Faith, or the Inerrancy of the Scriptures. On those things I am solidly in line with historic Evangelicalism. I am referring primarily to what are usually considered second-order doctrinal questions. These are those biblical and theological issues on which genuine Christians can and do disagree while still reckoning each other as brethren in the Lord. Examples would include debates over Calvinism/Arminianism or whether certain Gifts of the Holy Spirit have ceased or not. Clearly, I have strong beliefs on these and other issues. I consider that all of the Bible is worth reading, pondering, articulating, and defending.
More than being comprehensive, my theology is also very eclectic. In other words, it seems that I have one foot in the door of many differing theological perspectives, but I do not neatly fit into any one denominational/theological tradition. Returning to the examples of the last paragraph, I share some things in common with Reformed Theology, like a belief in TULIP/Calvinism. But I differ with Reformed Theology on key points. Likewise is the Charismatic Movement. Like that tradition, I affirm that all spiritual gifts continue to the present day. I deny any theology that says certain gifts like prophecy, tongues, healing, et al. have ceased. But I part ways with the vast majority of the Charismatic Movement by holding to Calvinism and by my denial that women can be ordained as pastors (among other doctrinal issues).
The problem arises of course when my propensity to hold to and state these beliefs runs headlong into the (post)modern tendency to downplay the importance of these doctrinal questions. Almost always this is done in the interest of Christian unity. If doctrinal disagreements divide (and they do divide), and if Christ prayed for unity (and He did - John 17), then maybe all these secondary doctrinal debates are really just a waste of time and we should re-channel that energy into evangelism or other worthy spiritual pursuits.
Another side to this concern is the very laudable desire to remain humble. Humility is at the center of what it means to be a Christian. If we even want to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven, we must begin by recognizing our need; that is, we must be humble before God (Matthew 5:3). We are also told in Scripture that, God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble (Proverbs 3:34; James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5). Humility is a big deal, but in our present cultural milieu, it is believed that the height of arrogance is in having strong theological convictions that would necessarily cause divisions between individuals. Similarly, humility is said to be essentially the absence of conviction and the possession of a nebulous uncertainty.
I disagree. Arrogance does not consist in having beliefs and convictions and by implication asserting that others are wrong in their beliefs and convictions. Nor is real humility found in having more questions than answers. That kind of muddled thinking might gain one cachet in the postmodern Western world, but it shouldn't have any place in the Church.
But there is one other issue related to all of this that I wanted to address in this post. This tendency seems to appear most often on the internet - particularly Facebook and Twitter - but it can be found even in the flesh-and-blood real world we live in. There always seems to be that one person who shows up in the middle of a theological exchange, discussion or debate who chimes in - often without invitation - and expresses the sentiments that I described above. At that point, all other parties involved will generally trip over themselves in verbal agreement while feeling a barely concealed guilt that they ever engaged in the debate in the first place. Such individuals always come out smelling like a rose because they appeared to be most concerned with the unity of the church and with "humility".
But are they really all that humble? True, I cannot probe into the depths of a person's motivations. Human motivation is a complicated subject. But if I am really honest, nine times out of ten, I heavily suspect that the peddlers of "unity" and "humility" are actually engaging in a sort of ecclesiastical power play whereby they are admired and others are shamed. And all of this is done in Jesus' name of course. I dare say that it seems more than just a little pharisaical.
All this reminds me of a quotation that I found from Presbyterian author Carl Trueman. Over the years, I have come to appreciate many of Trueman's cultural and theological insights. In one particularly perceptive piece, Trueman takes direct aim at those who would use false guilt to squelch theological discussion:
"This leads to one other concern about future leadership. It is what I call the emergence of the professional statesman. The professional statesman is the person who thinks and acts as if they can rise above the fray and speak to issues in a way that transcends the typical struggles involved in any leadership situation. I have witnessed this so often over the last few years, both in observing the wider political scene and in the church which seems to me to be increasingly marked by such men: they are those who try to defuse theological conflict by playing the moral equivalence card whereby they argue that the struggle is really petty and personal, a moral conflict between lesser men above which they and they alone can stand and see the way forward. My suspicion is that too often this simply reflects the problematic patterns in wider society: a need to be liked; a need to avoid making divisive decisions; and a desire to have the perks of leadership with none of the responsibilities and pain involved.
The problem is that statesmen are made, not born. They earn the right to be statesmen by fighting the battles and leading from the front. Love him or hate him, only Nixon could go to China, because only Nixon had the track record of toughmindedness with regard to Communism that meant he could make the trip. Only Mandela could dismantle apartheid and promote reconciliation in South Africa because only he had taken the stand and paid the price which gave him the moral authority necessary. Too often I suspect that aspiring statesmen in the church are driven more by a need to be liked and to avoid conflict than by a real desire to provide strong leadership; but being a statesman is not a career path; it is something that is earned over many years of making hard decisions, taking unpopular stands, and proving one's mettle under fire. Those who simply arrive on the scene as ready-made statesmen, so to speak, or who have statesman status thrust upon them by others before they have ever had to take a tough position on anything - well, such leaders want to have their cake and eat it: they want influence and respect, but they do not particularly want to earn it."
If Trueman is right; and I have a strong feeling that he is, then it is likely that many of the calls in the Church for "theological humility" may just be little more than gamesmanship and a pandering to the prevailing spirit of the times. That said though - and despite the legitimacy of debate - it is still necessary that we recognize the genuineness of faith of those who disagree with us over important, yet still secondary issues.
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