One of my struggles while in vocational ministry was heeding the line between what was my opinion and what was my Master’s perspective. I would have very high regard for my own positions and opinions, and those who did not agree with me just didn’t understand. So I had to explain it again, change up my word-pictures, work through my limitations as a communicator, and so on. I had two theological positions which were not in line with “everyone else” but were also not difficult to support. I had a host of others that were not in line with everyone else, and not so easy to support. Like positions on women in ministry, the use of dramatic spiritual gifts, post-tribulation return of my Master, just to name a few. I had my explanations, but these were not easy to support because so much depended on minutia and prejudice.
In Galatians 5:1 Paul is wrapping up his letter moving the church back into right response to Jesus and away from legalism. At this point he has supported the position that to relate to the Master through legalism was to be again in slavery to a master exterior to God. Now he admonishes them to remain in freedom, and not return to that yoke of slavery. Since the context is about legalistic practice and using that practice to justify spiritual claims, it really does apply beautifully to the problem I suffered in ministry. I wanted my church to follow my beliefs about our Master. That was fine. But I also judged them by whether they did or not. That was not fine.
I was used to being judged regarding beliefs, and still am. In fact, I rather get too much perverse joy out of messing with the belief structures of other believers. Go ahead, bring it on, let’s talk about it! But when I realized I had flipped the table around and was feeling spiritually superior and that others were less because of differences in belief structures I saw that I had crossed a dangerous line. I had moved over into the judgment seat reserved for my Master; a seat I had stood before while others tried to occupy it. I should have known better, but acted as if I did not. It was a poor example of leadership to tell my people to stop judging me and judging them for judging me and for not subscribing to my fringe theological beliefs.
Now, there is a remote possibility that my fringe positions may be right. But the only way to really know is for my Master to return physically to this world. At that point, it really won’t matter much if I was right or not. This story will be over at that point, and a new one begun. So, why would I think it made sense to focus and judge according to such beliefs? If the only “proof” is in how the story ends, why would that be such a sticking point. That may seem like I’m throwing out way too much, but consider this detail I have omitted. The people with whom I disagreed also believed that Jesus was the Son of God, that He entered this world (which He created) through a virgin-birth, that He lived a perfect sinless in this world, allowed His creatures to take His life to pay a death penalty for their sin, that He was raised on the third day, that He ascended back into heaven, and that He will return one day. On that we agreed. It becomes obvious when that detail is added, that we had more in agreement than in dispute. So why focus on the silly, unimportant details?
My hope is that I now do not hold the fee of others to fire in order to convince them that I am right, and they are wrong. I hope I now admit more often that I am wrong when I’m wrong, which is more often than I like to admit, but I should (yes, that was an intentional verbal loop). I am not convinced that I admit that nearly enough, that I have not idolized my ideas to some degree, that I do not judge others by my standards. But I am more aware of it when I fail in this area. I am more accepting of others (while not necessarily of their views). I jump into these discussions less than I used to and with less intensity. I am more aware of my Master now than I have been. And I am aware that He is changing me in spite of my fighting Him on that change.
I know that my Master loves me, that He has my back, and that I am supposed to be at His service. I know that He has called me to wait, worship, and walk before Him. I have confessed Him as my Master, and believe in my heart that He has risen from death. I live out, day to day, that belief to varying degrees of success. I am a common, typical believer in many respects. I hope that one day I will be able to relax into my various fringe beliefs, and let others wrestle with their own without feeling I need to bludgeon them with mine. Perhaps when I am confined to a comfy rocking chair, blanket over my knees, spectacles on my nose, and a sleepy hound at my feet (oh, and a porch, the scene definitely requires a porch).
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