One Further Question

Building off my two previous posts (here and here), I want to pose one more question.

Is all non-fellowship the same? Is there any category of “lack of participation” that is not “separation”?

There are some who argue that all fellowship is non-separation, and all separation is non-fellowship. In other words, there are two categories: fellowship and separation. To the degree that we are in fellowship, we are not separated. To the degree that we are not in fellowship, we are separated. This idea is based on the idea that fellowship is things held in common. Where we hold things in common, we are in fellowship. Where we do not hold things in common, we are not in fellowship.

There are others who strongly object to this because it does not leave room for simple non-participation without censure.

I have typically been of the first position, and I have great sympathy for it. Some might even say fellowship. I do think that all non-fellowship is some sort of separation. But I am almost persuaded (cue the invitation hymn) that a two-option position is unworkable because it does not leave room for simply non-participation.

Let’s take, for instance, a pastor in California. I won’t name him, but the guy I am thinking of is a graduate of the same seminary I went to, and he has planted a church in California. Are we fellowshipping or separated?

The answer is neither. I have nothing to do with him, not because we disagree, but because we are separated by a few thousand miles. I know the guy, and have talked to him at a few conferences. I like him. I think he is a doing a great work and rejoice about it. But we have no fellowship. However, several local pastor friends (who may or may not claim me as a friend) do have ministry fellowship with this individual. They have sent money, people, and resources to help. They have even had him to preach at their church.

With this good brother, there is no censure. I do not need to rebuke him, call him to obedience, or expose him for some dastardly compromise. I know of no reason to. But neither do I need to pretend that we have fellowship. If we did, “fellowship” would have no meaning that I can see.

Let’s take, for another instance, some pastor who subscribes to what I believe unbiblical positions, and let’s say that he has some influence in my realm of influence. I don’t have any fellowship with him and I can’t really separate from him (because we weren’t together to begin with), but I need to say something in terms of correction or rebuke for the sake of those in my ministry sphere who are being influenced by him. It’s neither fellowship nor separation, so far as I can see. But there is some public statement of caution.

Let’s take, for one last instance, some pastor with whom I have participated in the past but who has now embraced some positions that I think are clearly unbiblical. (I have no friends in this category that I can think of at the moment.) Now that he has embraced these unbiblical positions, I must act. Depending on the severity and visibility of the positions, I may have varying responses.

Let’s say that he has been a regular speaker at my church, and he has now embraced a local flood. I may simply stop having him come, and privately tell him why.

Let’s say that he has switched to being a paedobaptist, which I say, to the chagrin of some of my friends, is no baptism at all. Our churches are close and we now must stop doing some of the things that we have done together. I may have a more public response because it marks a distinct and public change in his church.

Let’s say that he has embraced baptismal regeneration. That is different than being a paedobaptist, or embracing a global flood. That is a clear denial of the gospel that makes participation in ministry disobedience. It requires public rebuke to the degree that he is an influence in my sphere of ministry. (However, I don’t feel the need to rebuke some small church in Texas for embracing baptismal regeneration.)

Let’s say that he has joined up in an ecumenical evangelistic effort. Now my response will be public. It will be a public censure because it is a community wide issue where the church’s name is published as a supporter of a public effort in ministry. I cannot stay silent and let people think that we agree. My non-participation is inadequate, I think. A private conversation will not suffice. I must do more.

My point in all of this is to say that I think at one level, all non-fellowship means that we are separated. But not all separation is equal.

Some separation is merely practical (e.g., distance). Some separation may be philosophical (e.g., different styles of ministry). Some separation may be theological (e.g., global flood, baptism, ecumenism).

In all of these cases, I should respond differently. Some things are merely “agree to disagree.” Others are “censurable,” which is to say we do not merely agree to disagree; we expose and publicly rebuke.

Again, I urge caution based on humility and grace.

At one level, I urge fear—fear that we might take a stand that proves to be the wrong one.

At another level, I urge boldness—boldness to stand and contend earnestly for the faith once for all delivered to the saints.

Let us treat our body kindly and have a tendency towards skepticism in our understanding. Let us be learners and students.

Let us be humbled by the gospel while at the same time being emboldened by it.

Let us pursue fellowship where we can. Let us embrace separation only where we must.

The Gospel and the Faith

I am meditating this morning on Jude 3, and the distinction that Jude seems to make between “our common salvation” and “the faith once for all delivered to the saints.”

Beloved, while I was making every effort to write you about our common salvation, I felt the necessity to write to you appealing that you contend earnestly for the faith which was once for all handed down to the saints.

Assuming that our “common salvation” is tied directly to the gospel and “the faith” is distinct from that (since Jude says “I want to write about the one but I find it necessary to write about the other”), it seems that Jude is saying that there are issues other than the gospel that are worth earnestly contending for.

It is furthermore interesting that in Jude’s discussion of the “persons who have crept in unaware” he does not focus on their doctrine or teaching. In fact, very little (i.e., nothing directly) is said about that. He focuses more on their character, their motivations, and the methodologies.

Today, it is frequent even among fundamentalists to talk about a “center bounded set” by which is meant “We agree on the gospel as the center of fellowship and not necessarily on things that are not at the center.” This statement is often followed up with “If they teach right things, it doesn’t matter so much what they do.”

Yet Jude seems to say that there are things in the “faith delivered” that need to be earnestly contended for that are not related to “our common salvation,” and that are not even related directly to what is said, but rather to how the person lives and how the message is communicated out of that life.

No doubt, Jude could have documented the false teachings, but he did not.

Perhaps this should be instructive for us in constructing a theology of contention.

The gospel is important. But it is not the only thing that is important. There are other things worth fighting about when they are attacked or denied, and character, motivation, and methodology are among them.

This is not to say that all things are equally important. It is to say however that a center-bounded fellowship is insufficient for true Christian fellowship. There are other things that matter.

Some are eager to talk about our common salvation, but are unwilling to earnestly contend for the faith once for all delivered in its totality, including the character, motivations, and methods of others.

As people of the faith, we must be careful about contending for too little. It’s just as dangerous as contending for too much.

In the Diner

Pretty quiet this morning.

Mr. Wilson asked me about an article I am writing for the local paper. It’s done. But I keep forgetting to print it out to give it to him. Hopefully it will be a good presentation of the gospel that might be used by God to reach some people.

And Billy Joel is on the radio singing an appropriate anthem for modernity, including Christianity.

I don’t need you to worry for me ‘cause I’m alright.

I don’t want to you tell me it’s time to come home.

I don’t care what you say anymore this is my life.

Go ahead with your own life, leave me alone.

Many Christians have decided that their individual soul liberty should be individual sole liberty. They think that no one else has any right to speak into their lives. Oh, if you try, they will listen politely for a while. But they will leave, convinced that they are right, and that they do not need your advice. After all, they think, if you knew what they knew, you would see it their way.

They want the church because it salves their conscience on the weekend. They do not want the fellowship—the sharing of life—that comes along with it.

What a lack of humility it requires to refuse to listen to fellow believers. It denies the work of God through the body of believers. It denies that God may be at work in someone else’s life to teach them things that they in turn can teach you. And it denies them their place of ministry in the lives of fellow believers.

In an age of independence, we need to recover the biblical ideals of true fellowship that allows others to speak into our lives, and we must receive such messages with humble graciousness, grateful to God that he has placed us in a body of imperfect people who care about other imperfect people. They might be wrong when they speak into your life. But they deserve a thoughtful and discerning hearing.

It isn’t your life, not even if you write a really cool sounding song about it.

It belongs to God, and he has placed people in your life through the church that he intends to use to help grow you, to set you apart from a hostile world (which is what “sanctification” means).

We need to learn to have a “humble mind” toward other believers, not just to serve them, but to let them serve us, even when it gets personal.