Examining how the culture’s moral veneration of division has come home to roost in the Evangelical church with devastating consequences. But what counsel does the Scriptures offer to help us right the ship before it’s too late?

“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. 35 By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” 

John 13:34,35, NASB1995  

Perhaps we shouldn’t be surprised.  We’re just now emerging from yet another election cycle marked by increasingly dire and vitriolic rhetoric, which would have us believe that our neighbors across the proverbial political aisle are actually dangerous and diabolical enemies to be vanquished. The democratization of news and the feedback loops that social media inadvertently produces have caused the American people, en masse, to retreat into feuding tribes, so out of touch with their opponents, that we presume upon them the most vile and abhorrent of motives.  But it goes beyond this – to a sense of moral superiority which, as modeled by pundits and political leaders alike, permits us to judge our opponents in absentia, using all manner of condemnations, curses and vulgarities to zealously decry their offenses. Many would go as far as to call such actions patriotic – even virtuous.  Outrage is en vogue.  

And dear friends, I fear the church has not escaped unscathed.  Our love has faltered in the crucible of political partisanship.  True, the church is no stranger to controversy and division – and perhaps that should temper our alarm to some measure. Yet both the reasons for division and the gloves-off nature of these fights, have fanned my concerns for not only the overall health and viability of the American Evangelical church, but also for the harm such strife is doing to our public witness and the name of Christ. 

I’d argue that love is not the primary thing the modern evangelical church is known for in America.  Yes, much of that can be chalked up to differences between the culture’s view of love and that found in the Scriptures, but not all of it.  Again and again, I’ve heard from those outside the church who are honestly baffled by what seems to them to be the unholy union of President Trump and the Evangelical Church.  They largely seem to understand the support of Republican policies, even if they don’t agree, but they simply cannot comprehend how Christians have gone from reluctantly voting for Donald Trump in 2016, to being such vehement and unapologetically vocal supporters of a man who seems, even to the world, to be so morally compromised.  

But behind the scenes, often away from the public eye, political dissent has led to infighting within our ranks.  These are not primarily fights about the central truths of the Gospel – at least not directly.  We’re not contending with those who would have us deny the deity of Christ or the exclusivity of the Gospel.  We’re not even bickering about important secondary issues like man’s agency and God’s sovereignty, or the embrace of orthodox positions on human sexuality, the sanctity of life or gender roles.  Rather, we are fighting – and far too many times tearing apart churches in the process – over eternally inconsequential disputes revolving around whether or not our fellow saints hold the exact same extrabiblical political convictions, or express their orthodox positions with the specific nuance we believe they should.  In fact, for far too many, such convictions have become a litmus test to determine whether people, though orthodox in their evangelicalism and doctrine, are true believers. 

As a person who tends to be sensitive to the danger of doctrinal decline (I’m in the process of writing an article about this very topic, in fact), I understand and respect the impulse to protect the church from the slow drift into apostasy.  I think this impulse to protect is at the heart of why many in the church have put so much weight on our political allegiances. They desperately want to guard the flock from destructive influences. But when fear is involved, we must be extra-vigilant to ensure that we are putting the bar where God puts the bar, and not an inch further. It’s just so easy to start shifting the bar in hopes of protecting the church. But with such a mindset, when we look out over the flock, we begin to see more and more wolves.  This, not because we see the telltale sharp teeth and piercing claws that mark true wolves, but because some sheep don’t look exactly like us.  We interpret such differences to mean that, even if they’re not wolves now, they are well on their way to becoming such ravenous beasts.  And if we’re not careful, soon, more and more sheep will be slaughtered and chased away in the name of protecting the flock – undermining the Gospel unity of the church and compromising her witness. And, as we’ll see, not unlike those who sowed division in the Corinthian church, such extrabiblical division undermines the very center of the Gospel.   

Washington, We Have a Problem

One such contemporary example of growing division is the question of whether or not to vote.  During the previous election cycle, John Piper authored an article explaining why he could not, in good conscience, vote for either presidential candidate in the 2020 election.  He outlined what he felt to be an impossible choice, between Joe Biden’s support of sinful policies that harm men, women and children, including the unborn, and Donald Trump’s rampant and unashamed embodiment of sinful attitudes, actions and presumptuous vanities that Piper feared – as it seems our latest election cycle demonstrably proved – would spread like gangrene through our nation and her churches if left unchecked.   Both Trump and Biden were claiming, by word and deed, that some sins were actually virtues.  Therefore, for Piper, to vote for either would be to compromise in a way his conscience would not allow. 

This article was written just two weeks prior to the 2020 presidential election, and some believe its influence may have given the Biden campaign an edge in their eventual win.  That may be true. But, for many, myself included, Piper merely added his voice to concerns and convictions we had had for months, if not years. Nonetheless, in the eyes of some, Piper’s article is one piece of evidence among many that have led to a growing fear that the powerful forces on the left are strategically and secretly infiltrating the evangelical church to undermine our beliefs and gain our votes – primarily by buying the voices of influential, largely orthodox Christian leaders. 

And so, with fears of a grand conspiracy undermining the church, looming like a specter over the 2024 presidential election, whether or not one votes or abstains has been moved from a matter of conscience where Christians are free to disagree, to a test of one’s faithfulness – and even a test of true faith.  

In such a roiling soup of fear, distrust, conviction and zeal, too many churches have fallen victim to the destructive vilany of unmerited division. And because this division has been infused with a sort of dreadful urgency and moral presumption, it leaves no quarter for those with different views.    

The Extrapolation

But how did we get to this point? How did one’s personal convictions – upon which the Bible does not explicitly speak one way or another – become a litmus test of true faith, and warrant for harmful division within the flock?  I’d argue at least three elements have come into play:

First, our cultural malaise has created fertile ground for our fears and anxieties to prosper.   

Second, the decades-long general lack of sound, systematic doctrinal instruction in the Evangelical church has left us without a sturdy framework upon which to rightly weigh and order our convictions.  

Third, with fears running high and theology running low, we have inadvertently followed in the footsteps of the Pharisees by taking Scriptural commands and principles, and making extrapolations of those things – infusing those extrapolations with the same absolute, black and white weight of the initial command.  

So, for example, there are a myriad of things we know from Scripture that should carry weight in the matter of voting.  Most broadly, we are to actively seek God’s glory in all our decisions, including if and how we vote (1 Corinthians 10:31).  We are to love our neighbor (Leviticus 19:18, Matthew 19:19).  We are commanded to seek our good by praying for those in authority (1 Timothy 2:2).  We are commanded to love in a way that hates what is evil and holds to what is good (Romans 12:9).  Proverbs teaches us that it is good for a nation to be righteous (Proverbs 14:34, 29:2). We are warned not to put our trust in rulers, but in God who rules over the nations (Psalm 22:28, 33:10f, 146:3f, Proverbs 21:1, Romans 13:1f).  We are told that rulers are used by God to reward good and punish evil (Romans 13:4). We are to be governed by our conscience and mindful of others’ consciences (Acts 24:26, Romans 14, 1 Corinthians 8). We are to advocate for the rights of the marginalized and oppressed (Proverbs 31:8,9).  We are to care for the weak, orphans, foreigners and all in need (Zechariah 7:9f).

But here’s the problem, none of these verses explicitly tell us if or how to vote.  For sure, they provide principles upon which to weigh our decision, but not the decision itself. Therefore, in order to come to a conclusion, we must apply the Scriptures to what we know about candidates and their policies, and decide accordingly.  But compounding the ambiguity is the fact that there’s no key in the back of our Bible that tells us how much weight each command should carry.  Is pride or abortion a greater sin in the eyes of God?  Is greed or the embrace of homosexuality a worse sin?  Which flavor of hate is worse?     

“Therefore let us not judge one another anymore, but rather determine this—not to put an obstacle or a stumbling block in a brother’s way.” 

Romans 14:13, NASB1995  

For many of us, we don’t like this ambiguity, thank you very much.  I’m one of those people.  I prefer my reality to be black or white.  I get really uncomfortable when other people think differently than myself – especially when they are brothers or sisters in Christ.  What we’re tempted to do in these situations is to lean heavily on our personal conscience and convictions – our own rankings and moral framework, and infuse those things with a Biblical authority and universality they were never meant to have.  And once we raise our extrapolations and convictions to the place of Scripture, our window of tolerance narrows, and before long, our personal convictions become an extra-biblical test of true Christianity.   

I’d argue this is precisely what has happened in this election cycle.  We have absolutized our interpretation and ranking of Biblical commands and principles to the exclusion of other well meaning, faithful and thoughtful Christians who think differently than ourselves.  And, at times, such exclusion has been peppered with all manner of condemnation, slander and accusations that have directly violated God’s commands to pursue unity (Ephesians 4:3), live in love (John 13:34) and honor one another’s consciences (1 Corinthians 8:9f).  But here’s the insidious thing – because these personal convictions, amped up by our political anxieties, have been raised to the level of faith-determining Scripture, it can be easy to feel justified in labeling those who would disagree as dangerous wolves – wolves that therefore are worthy of the same forceful and absolute condemnations as Jesus’s words to the Pharisees or Paul’s cursing of false teachers.   

And here’s the thing – in past election cycles, many in the evangelical church would have thought it to be unthinkable for a Christian to vote for a Democrat.  Honestly, given the party’s support of abortion and sexual matters, I still struggle to understand how a follower of Jesus can vote for a democratic candidate.  But this year, the window of tolerance has shrunk again, to the point that those who would abstain from voting on well-reasoned Biblical grounds, are themselves branded as traitors to the cross, cowards, and foolhardy.  This is a far cry from Paul’s words of warning in Romans 14. 

The History

“Now I exhort you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you all agree and that there be no divisions among you, but that you be made complete in the same mind and in the same judgment. 11 For I have been informed concerning you, my brethren, by Chloe’s people, that there are quarrels among you. 12 Now I mean this, that each one of you is saying, “I am of Paul,” and “I of Apollos,” and “I of Cephas,” and “I of Christ.” 13 Has Christ been divided? Paul was not crucified for you, was he? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?” 

1 Corinthians 1:10-13, NASB1995  

But this is nothing new, now is it?  In 1 Corinthians, Paul almost immediately launches into a strong rebuke of the church at Corinth.  It seems, factions had been forming – with people holding firm convictions about what team was the best team. Like our own time, these weren’t matters of primary or even secondary importance, but merely a matter of preference – a question of which of their teachers they associated with most.  

As the letter unfolds, we see that division is a big issue in Corinth.  In their pride, they are dividing people by their favorite teacher, by worldly influence and by wealth.  Paul makes it clear, this is no small thing in God’s eyes.  In fact, when it comes to their selfish habits around the Lord’s Supper, as we’ll explore below, Paul goes as far as to say that their partiality, leading to an Gospel-forgetting taking of the Lord’s Supper, is actually causing their sickness and even death.    

You’re Just Too Soft…

But let’s press pause here before we continue in 1 Corinthians.  Perhaps you’ve gotten to this point, and your assessment of my argument boils down to me being some flavor of a snowflake without a backbone – the sort of person that would join hands with the progressive church, along with all the universalists and world religions, and sing Kumbaya around the campfire.  And if that is the impression you have, my friend, I can assure you, such claims are greatly exaggerated.  My earnest desire is to always be a Bible man – to embrace the full counsel of the Scriptures, and though often failing, apply the full counsel of God to my life. Oftentimes, that has meant taking difficult and costly stands.  Two events in particular come to mind. 

As our photography business was slowly emerging from the difficulties of the pandemic, there was one client in particular that provided much-needed income in those lean days.  They were our top client by far – representing close to a quarter of our annual income – and when in late May, they asked us to do a shoot in honor of PRIDE month, we felt convicted to be honest and upfront with them.  And though we took great care to be both as winsome as possible and remain unwaveringly faithful to the Word, pointing them to the joy to be found in Christ, our honesty resulted in the loss of that client.

The second, was a lot closer to home.  Shortly before Bryn and I were married, we fell in love with a small, reformed-baptistic church plant.  Over the next two decades, we would sink our roots in deep and wide. Though the church had its ups and downs, it was our home, our family – and we resolved, early on, to be a one church family for the rest of our lives.  Words fail to describe just how precious that church family was to us.  As time went on, I found myself in various roles of leadership, from a deacon, to an elder, to eventually an elder emeritus.  It was in this final role, that concerns began to grow about the theological trajectory of the church.  Despite the exemplary holiness and faithfulness of our leaders, not only were we losing the theological and practical distinctives which first drew Bryn and I to the church, but it appeared as though the very Gospel had unintentionally been moved away from the center, replaced with what I would describe as a Gospel-adjacent pragmatism that had slowly but surely been reshaping the church.  This grieved and concerned us deeply – and over the course of a few years, these concerns led to several acute periods of disagreement and even conflict with our leaders, over choices that we increasingly struggled to support. Though far from perfectly, I strove to carefully and winsomely pick my battles, knowing the relational risk, but being firmly convicted that to remain silent would be to ignore my solemn duty and to disobey the Lord. And, friends, it was so costly!  Even today, the hurt and loss we experienced in those last few years often brings tears to my eyes.  But despite all of the hurt and sorrow – the cost to myself, my family and my fellow leaders – those hills I chose to die on are still hills I would ascend once again. I carry with me the scars of these battles – and I likely will for quite some time – even as I see the good fruit the Lord has been pleased to produce through them. 

Want to explore the topic of the dangerous and destructive slippery slope of pragmatism? Consider reading our latest article on how pragmatism can grow, thrive in, and destroy once faithful and vibrant churches: 

So no, you will not find me at a eccumenical campfire singing Kumbaya to an amorphous sky deity of my own design.  I have paid a great price for the hills I chose to die on, and I hope and believe these hills were not merely personal convictions inflated to primary importance, but hills upon which the core tenants of our faith rise or fall based on the victor.  Well-meaning aspirations aside, I am reasonably certain this has not always been the case – if not the hills themselves, then surely some of the paths I took to climb those hills.  Looking back, I’ve zealously charged up more than one hill that ought not to have been so vehemently defended, but as with all the saints, I am trusting in the Lord, through His Word, to direct and grow, chasten and correct, refine and sanctify me through it all. 

Despicable Divides

“But in giving this instruction, I do not praise you, because you come together not for the better but for the worse. 18 For, in the first place, when you come together as a church, I hear that divisions exist among you; and in part I believe it. 19 For there must also be factions among you, so that those who are approved [genuine] may become evident among you. 20 Therefore when you meet together, it is not to eat the Lord’s Supper, 21 for in your eating each one takes his own supper first; and one is hungry and another is drunk. 22 What! Do you not have houses in which to eat and drink? Or do you despise the church of God and shame those who have nothing? What shall I say to you? Shall I praise you? In this I will not praise you.” 

1 Corinthians 11:17-22, NASB1995  

But, despite my autobiographical foray, what really matters is whether or not what I claim is Biblical.  As we see in the passage above, there are times where division is a necessary purifying and preserving means of protecting the church.  But look carefully at the context.  When is such division called for?  

We see two divisions.  First, Paul is again correcting the Corinthian church – this time for dividing the haves from the have-nots.  Imagine the scene.  You go to church this Sunday, and laid before you, smack-dab in the middle of the sanctuary, is a grand potluck, full of delectable dishes and the best beverages money can buy.  The aroma wafting into the foyer is intoxicating.  But here’s the thing.  You’ve fallen on hard times, and it’s a struggle to put a single meal on the table each day, let alone bring a casserole to church.  So, the usher, seeing you dish-less, looking down his nose at you, dismissively directs you to the back corner of the sanctuary, far away from the joys of the table.  And so, it’s there, in that dark corner that you worship in song, in prayer and the proclamation of the Word – constantly reminded by the scene before you, that you are hungry and undeserving.  And then it’s time to partake of the Lord’s Supper.  Well… Technically, it’s time for those who contributed to the meal to partake.  And so, you get the message loud and clear.  This Gospel – this so-called good news – it’s not for you.  Not really.  You aren’t good enough to enjoy the body and the blood.  You didn’t earn it, so you can’t have it.  

No wonder Paul was so infuriated!  What a blatant distortion of the Gospel!  To divide the church in such a way was wickedness – and in particular, a wickedness that revealed that those who sowed this division actually despised the church and hated their neighbor.  What was happening in Corinth was the antithesis of the Gospel.  But are we much better?  When we choose to divide one another by personal convictions and applications, are we not guilty of the same – presuming upon our own tertiary beliefs the weight of the Gospel, and despising those who would dare disagree?  Are we guilty of artificially limiting who has access to a seat at the Lord’s table by setting the bar far higher than the Scriptures do themselves?  

As we’ve been going through Acts with our youth on Sunday mornings, I have been repeatedly struck by the expanding scope of the Gospel in the first century church.  What started as a small group of scared and cowering Jewish disciples quickly blossomed into a movement that bridged not only the gaps between Jewish converts from around the empire that had gathered in Jerusalem (Acts 2), but exploded among the Gentiles (Acts 13), setting into motion the eventual culmination of God’s promise that all the nations would be blessed through the seed of Abraham (Genesis 22:18, Galatians 3:8).  

What then should divide?  Paul’s word in verse 19 sheds helpful, clarifying light on this question. And as Paul’s argument develops in the following verses, we see an alarming warning – if you divide into factions and show sinful partiality, it is evidence that your faith is not genuine [approved – dokimos]. It undermines the very core of the Gospel message that they claim to proclaim. Notice what’s going on here: Paul is describing a type of partiality that approves of the wealthy and shames the poor.  But such sinful “approving” actually is proof that such people are not approved by God.  We see this echoed in the words of 1 John – that true faith brings forth love for one another – a pattern of love that extends grace because of the great grace we have received.  

“Children, it is the last hour; and just as you heard that antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have appeared; from this we know that it is the last hour. 19 They went out from us, but they were not really of us; for if they had been of us, they would have remained with us; but they went out, so that it would be shown that they all are not of us. 20 But you have an anointing from the Holy One, and you all know.” 

1 John 2:18-20, NASB1995  

So, when should we divide, then?  Paul’s emphasis in 1 Corinthians is that those who sow division – and I’d argue those whose words or actions seek to wrongly exclude people from the Gospel and its benefits – these people are guilty of distorting the Gospel, potentially proving their faith to be counterfeit.  The passage above seems to support and sharpen this concept.  These “antichrists” were commending and teaching things antithetical to the Gospel – so much so that they are given this dire moniker.  And what was the result?  Their false belonging was proven by their choosing to divide themselves from the church.  

As a caution, I don’t want you to hear what I’m not saying.  I am not implying that in every church split you have the holy and the unholy – that there’s always one faction that is the true church, and one who could rightly be described as an antichrist.  People leave churches for a panoply of reasons – and I believe (without statistical evidence if I’m honest) that behind many if not most of those reasons are God-honoring impulses – even if the separation itself is less than ideal.   

Therefore, we divide when the Gospel is at stake.  If someone is preaching another Gospel, to tolerate them is to undermine the Gospel itself. When someone’s practice and proclamation prove their faith to be demonstrably false, the leaders of the church are duty-bound to remove such a person in order to protect the flock.  But, as these passages make clear, to divide on lesser grounds is not virtuous or necessary, but is likely rooted in presumption and pride.

A Better Way

“The Lord brings the counsel of the nations to nothing; he frustrates the plans of the peoples. The counsel of the Lord stands forever, the plans of his heart to all generations.” 

Psalm 33:10, 11, NASB1995  

One trend I have noticed – one that persists even now, weeks after the election – is a shift in our discourse among our brothers and sisters in Christ.  In the pews, we’re much more likely to be talking and debating about if and how faith and politics should intersect.  And while those conversations can be profitable, they are not supreme – yet both the fervency and frequency of such conversations, even now, seem to betray an unhealthy shift in our focus – one that pulls us away from the enemy-loving, reconciling and redeeming glories of the Gospel, and onto more earthly, transient and divisive aspirations. 

I get it.  It can be so easy to focus on the non-stop alarm of our political influences – especially when those influences seem to resonate with our own moral compass.  It can seem like the stakes are so high that we must go to extraordinary lengths to preserve our nation.  That the very soul of America is at stake.  But if I may brothers, I fear we think too highly of ourselves and our nation, and too little of our Great King and His Kingdom.  But, as Paul so clearly reminds us – our focus (1 Corinthians 15:3f) and our boast (Galatians 6:14) should be firmly and supremely rooted in the Gospel.  To drift from this – no matter how virtuous we believe the causes – is to jeopardize the very life of the church.   

“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. 5 Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; 6 do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. 7 And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. 8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. 9 What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me – practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.” 

Philippians 4:4-9, NASB1995  

But there is a better way – a way of joy – a way of thanksgiving – a way of peace and security!  Here in Philippians, we are given several keys to freeing our fearful hearts from the anxieties of the wayward world pressing in around us.  Here’s just a few applications from this passage:

Rejoice in the Lord always:

We are called to pursue a demeanor of Godward joy in all circumstances – even those that need be accompanied by sorrow (2 Corinthians 6:10).  We are called to root this Joy in the most secure and dependable of all foundations – the Lord himself.    

Let your reasonableness be known to everyone:

We are to be a people marked by thoughtful, patient and kind engagement with everyone.  We should avoid the temptation to build straw men, to overly generalize, to use loaded words to subtly demean and put down our opponents. 

The Lord is at Hand; do not be anxious about anything:

The Lord is not distant. He is not weak.  Our God is mighty and ever-present.  He knows exactly what he’s doing, and his purposes will be accomplished (Job 42:2).  Further, we know that for the believer, God’s purposes are always for us, no matter how joyful or dire the circumstances (Romans 8:28f).

In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God:

No matter our circumstances, no matter our needs, we can approach the throne of God with a thankful heart, knowing that however the Lord is pleased to answer our prayers, they will be for our best (Romans 8:28f, 2 Corinthians 4:16f).  

The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus:

A mind so set on a Godward, joyful, thankful demeanor toward God and our circumstances will give rise to an extraordinary peace that defies human understanding.  This peace acts as a guard for our hearts (emotions) and minds (logic), freeing us from bondage to anxieties and fears.

Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just… think about these things:

One of the ways the Lord guards our minds is by commending to us the very mindset that frees us from worldly anxiety.  The more we spend time meditating on the things of the Lord and His Word, the quieter the world’s anxious roar will become. 

What you have learned… in me – practice these things:

Right thinking should overflow in right doing.  By the empowering work of the Spirit, the more we bind our heart and mind to the things of the Lord, the easier it will be to practice these very things. 

And the God of peace will be with you:

Paul ends, not merely by offering us God’s peace, but the God of peace, Himself!  As the Spirit awakens in us the desire and the dedication to rejoicing in tribulation, being thankful in our need, loving our enemies with reasonableness, focusing on what is best – in all of it, He is with us, dwelling within us, directing our deeds and desires (Philippians 2:12,13), so that we might walk in Him. 

In summary, this passage echoes a frequent call in the Scriptures to focus on the eternal. The more we pursue Christ’s face, the less the things of this world – its fears and anxieties – will reign in our souls. Or, as the hymn-writer, Helen Howarth Lemmel so eloquently puts it:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace

Might the Lord be pleased to so strengthen and secure our faith, that no matter the winds and the waves of the culture, we would be freed to joyfully love our neighbor, pursue holy unity, and entrust our souls (and our futures) to our faithful Creator.  Oh, what Gospel good such a mindset could produce!