I once heard an older preacher, who was a friend of mine, say that as he grew older there were fewer things he believed in strongly but that the things he believed he believed more strongly than ever before. You have to think about that one for a minute so as not to misunderstand his point. He was not becoming a relativist. Far from it. But he was observing that many of us are more willing to participate in fights in our youth than when we are mature. When we are young, everything seems desperately important. I don’t know what those issues might have been for you. My list was largely defined by the religious circles I grew up in. If you wanted to debate instrumental music, baptism, whether denominationalists were Christians or not, the use of a headcovering in prayer, or a dozen other topics, I was your man. Admittedly, the sect I grew up in was more contentious than most. We had a lot of hills we were willing to die on. I was a fundamentalist’s fundamentalist. I was not only dismayed if you were wrong on any of these questions, and either believed or strongly suspected you were unsaved, but I would be appalled if you did not consider them first-tier issues. After all, we are supposed to “contend earnestly for the faith,” are we not?
I was an arrogant, contentious, stupid person, but as God is my witness, I thought I was doing what was right. It was the only way I knew to be. I was convinced Scripture taught my convictions on each of those issues. And I was convinced your salvation, and mine, depended on my attempting to convince you I was right. Years later when the Lord graciously broke my spiritual back, knocked me into the dirt, and allowed me to see the harm I had caused by my error, I thought about what my friend had said. I didn’t stop believing in God, Christ, or the authority of the Bible. Far from it. I believed in these things more strongly because I came to understand them in the context of grace.
It does not always work out that way. I have seen men who once had a spiritual backbone seem to lose all their convictions as they aged. They may say they mellowed, but it looked more like unbelief to me. There has to be a balance. To say that not every hill is a hill to die on does not mean there are not any hills we ought to die on. To say that we can live and work in fellowship with brothers and sisters with whom we disagree on many issues does not mean there are not some issues about which we cannot disagree. If a man says, “I trust in Christ but prefer to sing only the psalms,” I say, “Welcome, brother!” If a man says, “I am a Christian but prefer to think of the resurrection as metaphorical and not historical,” I say, “Can we sit down and talk about the gospel?”
We must learn to distinguish primary, secondary, and tertiary issues. Romans, Galatians, and First Corinthians are very helpful in learning this paradigm and helping us practice theological triage in categorizing topics. We should refuse to divide over tertiary disagreements, be slow to separate and quick to love one another despite secondary differences, but be willing to plant our feet and plead for souls when it comes to primary issues. This requires a clear understanding of the gospel, a willingness to sit down with open Bibles, and an unwavering devotion to the Lordship of Christ no matter the cost or consequence.
Some of us start out in life willing to fight about anything. We need to learn humility, wisdom, and which fights are actually important. Some start out unwilling to fight about anything. They need to learn conviction, boldness, and which issues serve as the foundation for faith and life. I hope what my friend said is increasingly true of me and of you: there may be fewer things we believe in strongly, but may we believe more strongly what we ought to believe. --JME
