“We are one in the spirit, we are one in the Lord
and we pray that our unity may one day be restored
and they’ll know we are Christians by our love”

I’ve been part of a few theological discussions in my time. Some of these have been very worthwhile exercises helping me to figure out my beliefs. Other times they were lessons in pride – mine and others’ as we struggled to be right for the sake of being right.

I am now weary of such discussion particularly between people who don’t have personal relationships with one another. The internet is great a fostering such conversations. While I don’t want to dismiss the possible value in these discussions for everyone, I’ve often found them to be discouraging and disheartening.

Theology is important. It is practical and it is affecting – at least it should be. I do not want to downplay its importance nor do I want to parrot the cry “doctrine divides” although that is true in a practical sense. Division is not all bad, of course. We are called to be separate from the world. We are called to forsake false teaching. But at what point do we call something false teaching?

In the Christian life you encounter a series of seemingly paradoxical truths. We are saved by grace, not by works, but works demonstrate true saving faith. We believe God doesn’t need us to accomplish His purposes yet He wants us to be involved in His work on the Earth. We are given righteousness when we are saved but the work of making us perfect is not complete until heaven. God is three persons and yet one God. Things like that are not easy to reconcile in our imperfect minds. Anyone who says it is easy – I’m really not sure that they’re taking the Bible or their brethren seriously.

Some strive after the best understanding of the Word they can have; others only see what they want to see in the pages of Scripture or ignore it altogether. It’s about the heart of the reader ultimately. Those of us who approach the Bible with right attitudes frequently come up with differing conclusions about all kinds of matters.

I recently observed a theological debate online. The topic is not important to this discussion. Suffice it to say that it was not a salvation issue. One party in the discussion considered the opposing party’s view contrary to the Bible while the other party considered both views as being “within the pale of orthodoxy.” Further, the first person on insisted that Christians ought to be in 100% agreement over theological issues based on 1 Corinthians 1:10:

“I appeal to you, brothers, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree, and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be united in the same mind and the same judgment.”

I had never heard such a thing before. The context of this verse was the quarreling in the Corinthian church. Paul informs us that different factions were claiming to follow different authorities: Paul, Apollos, Peter, and Christ. It strikes me that seeing this verse as meaning that all Christians should be in 100% agreement on all matters of theology is a stretch though I could be very wrong.

This person went on to say that while he didn’t question the other person’s salvation and would still pray for them, he would not fellowship with them in any other way due to their difference in interpretation. This struck me a really kind of harsh. Again, both parties agreed this was not a salvation issue; so breaking fellowship over such a thing struck me as extreme and unnecessary. That’s what really bothered me.

Whenever people fervently and seriously study the Word of God, they’re going to come to different conclusions about difficult truths. But our God is a God of absolutes. There is one right theology just as there is only one way to the Father. We can’t all be right with our various contradictory views and interpretations. Perhaps none of us have got it quite right (I suspect this might be true for a lot more than we’d like to think). I certainly don’t think anyone has got it all right. When we get to Heaven we’re all going to find out that at least part of our individual and collective pictures of God were wrong.

I’ve had a fair number of discussions with friends where we lamented the segmented Christian church. Why are there so many denominations? Why must we break fellowship so frequently? Why don’t people see things our way? Why can’t we all get along?

In a recent interview with newly-retired John Piper, the former pastor pointed out that the church’s effectiveness has never been dependent on its unity. The church is effective when it seeks and obeys God earnestly.

He’s right. As much as we may loathe our divisions and disagreements, God has chosen imperfect vessels to bring about His perfect will.

Nevertheless the Bible does call us to some sort of unity. Paul wrote this in Ephesians 4:1 – 6:

“I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.”

I am convinced of two things. One is that we should not neglect seeking a good understanding of the Scriptures nor should we compromise our theology for the sake of pleasing others. Second, we should not insist that our understanding could be without fault and we should never let a disagreement cause us to be unloving toward one another. We cannot neglect the “bond of peace” for the sake of being right.

How does “be united in the same mind” and “they will know you are my disciples by your love for one another” balance out? How do we fiercely contend for a pure understanding of scripture and yet love and accept our brothers and sisters who come to different conclusions? Where is the line between disagreement and heresy? These are not easy nor simple questions and I don’t pretend to be able to answer or even address any of them.

As for myself I need to pray. I need to pray that God grants me understanding. I need to pray for those with whom I disagree that they would come a right understanding or that if they are right and I am wrong, I would realize it. I should try my best with the realization that I may come up with wrong conclusions. And this realization should keep me from arrogance and unloving attitudes.

One glorious day we will all realize what we’ve gotten wrong; we will feel and know theology for real because we will finally be face to face with the person it’s all about. The unity of the Spirit will no longer be obscured by our ignorance, or pride. That, at least, is a comforting thought.

Last night my thoughts drifted toward a terribly serious and scary subject. That’s right: the future.

If my perspective is right, the future shouldn’t be scary. Death should be least frightening of all. It is our passageway out of this fallen existence. For the Christian that is a wonderful thing. But that isn’t the first thought in my mind when people talk about the dismal possibilities of the future. I am too bound by things of this Earth in my thinking for that kind of right thinking.

The thing that set me off was a couple of headlines. I didn’t even read the articles – just the headlines. I don’t remember them exactly now. Something about Israel, Iran, and war. I honestly don’t read too much news and I read even less about geopolitical conflicts and maneuverings. But I know enough for the stuff I read to be a little disconcerting.

What I don’t want to talk about here is the specifics of world politics or the validity of the idea that war might be on the horizon. What I want to talk about is where those thoughts took my mind and what that says.

What if conflict does happen in the Middle East or anywhere? What if it escalated? What if it comes here? What if we experience another World War?

I live a very comfortable life. I’m not “rich” by American standards, but I’m not going to starve or go homeless. I don’t have to work nonstop to make ends meet. I get to spend a fair amount of my time doing whatever I like. For those reasons I should count myself very blessed. Something like a war could threaten all of that.

People of past living peaceful lives weren’t planning on dropping everything and going to war but it happened time and time again. Why shouldn’t that happen now? The world is only superficially different. Some people think the world is ripe for such a conflict and they are not without evidence for a case.

The immediate thought is: what if I die? Well, that’s easy. I’m going straight to Heaven, right? That’s what I believe, isn’t it? If death is nothing then what do I have to be afraid of?

Though I have never stared it in the face, I don’t fear death. That is to say, I don’t fear the thought of it.

I don’t fear death. Theoretically.

What I do fear theoretically is suffering.

One of the most horrifying parts of The Lord of the Rings didn’t make it into the movies. Toward the end of The Return of the King, the Hobbits return to their home in the Shire to find it in ruins. All the trees have been cut down. The hobbits living there are enslaved. And Saruman is running the show.

That’s what I don’t want. I don’t want war to find my home. I don’t want to go through the ruins of my town, my neighborhood, my house and see the destruction. I don’t want everything I’ve ever known to be uprooted.

Is this natural? Absolutely. Is it okay? I’m not sure.

On the one hand, I don’t think scripture prescribes the sort of detachment Yoda recommends to Anakin in Episode III: “Learn to let go of everything you fear to lose.” On the other hand, scripture says to be “in the world, but not of it” along with many other such admonishments.

We have to be in the world. We are. To deny that fact and act in ignorance – or worse – in opposition to everything the physical world presents us is wrong. This the mistake of the Gnostics who believed that, in a nutshell, all things spiritual are good and all things physical or material are evil.

Paul addresses that belief in Colossians by emphasizing that Christ was both fully God (spirit) and fully man (physical). Jesus certainly enjoyed some small physical comforts now and then. He enjoyed the pleasure of food and wine. He expressed gratitude toward Mary sister of Martha when she anointed his feet with some expensive perfume.

So I have a problem with the thought that enjoying life for its physical comforts and pleasures is a bad thing. Yet that is the extreme I jump to when presented with the idea that it might all go up in flames. Indeed, in the end it will all go up in flames if only to be replaced with something better.

Through this thought process I have identified two great problems in me. One: I love my present comforts far too much. I would rather die than lose them through suffering. Two: perhaps even more fundamentally, my mind fails to grasp the future blessings which will come in spite of whatever suffering might occur in this life. If we could only truly and fully understand the depth of our depravity, the goodness of God, and the blessings to come, it would be much easier to live the life we are called to now.

I like C.S. Lewis’s concept of “shadowlands” – that the Earth we are living in is but a shadow of the true Earth to come. This idea is well presented in The Last Battle.

Two-thirds of the book detail the destruction of everything I’d come to love of the world of Narnia as described in the previous six books. Basically Narnia gets wrecked. The last Narnian king fights a losing battle as the bad guys of the series take over. All the while there’s this weird syncretic cult which combines Aslan with the false god of the series. It’s basically Lewis’s take on Revelation and I hated it as a kid. It gave me a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach to see beloved places and characters suffer and seemingly lose. I reread all the other books, but never this one.

But the last couple of chapters talk about Aslan’s return and explore Lewis’s ideas about Heaven and the afterlife. They’re really great.

After the characters have come into Aslan’s Country (i.e. “heaven”) they look below and see England and this exchange takes place:

“Why!” exclaimed Peter. “It’s England. And that’s the house itself – Professor Kirk’s old home in the country where all our adventures began!”

“I thought that house had been destroyed,” said Edmund.

“So it was,” said the Faun. “But you are now looking at the England within England, the real inner England just as this is the real Narnia. And in that inner England no good thing is destroyed.”

I always liked that sentiment. I kind of suspect it has a lot of truth to it. Revelation speaks of a New Heaven and a New Earth – not completely new and different places. The implication is that they’ll have some relation to the lesser Heaven and Earth.

Whatever the case I am sure of this: all our speculation is missing the mark. We lack the capacity to properly understand eternity in any intimate way. Nevertheless there is one more wonderful quote from The Last Battle which I’d like to share.

“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now.”

This Earth is not home. I fear pain, suffering, and loss because they are personally difficult. But I also know deep down (as I think we all do) that suffering is not meant to be. It is the result of evil and we must all suffer its consequences.

I believe suffering is coming in some form. Things are fairly ugly on the world stage right now. Something’s got to give. It’s simple cause-and-effect.

The truth is a lot of the time I enjoy my possessions, relationships, abilities, and comforts because they allow me to believe I have control of my life independent from God. I can do what I want. I can be happy in the way I want. That is a truly damaging and false line of thinking.

To enjoy the blessings of prosperity and cherish them to a degree is not bad so long as I am not kept from the task at hand; so long as I recognize and give thanks to the Creator of the gifts and not fall into the trap of thinking I had something to do with it.

I must give thanks more diligently for God’s blessings. I must be prepared to lose some of those temporal blessings. It is time I stopped holding on so dearly to the shadow of things to come.

I think the Apostle Paul sums this whole thing up best.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.

Romans 8:18, NASB

That’s pretty well put, Paul. Were you divinely inspired to write that or something?