Because we are mortal and prone to sin, there are many areas in which we find a right balance difficult to achieve. A case in point is striking a right balance between fellowship and separation.
Separation to excess
The Israelites were to be separate from pagans. When they entered the land of promise, Israel was not to intermarry or make any covenant with those who inhabited Palestine. Unless the pagan inhabitant would convert, he was to be destroyed (Deut 7:1-5).
But the people stiffened their hearts and would not give heed. They loved heathen women and took them for wives. They enjoyed pagan festivals and joined in the sensuous rites. They persisted in the closest association with the very people they should have destroyed, until God wrenched them from the land and dispersed them among the heathen.
Then, in exile, the Jews totally changed their habits. They went from one extreme to another. Whereas they previously intermarried with Gentiles, they refused even to enter their homes or share a meal with them. The practice became ingrained in their culture and was followed by those living in Palestine in the time of Christ (Acts 10:28).
As their sense of self-righteous separation grew, the religious among them refused to eat with fellow Jews they considered less worthy than themselves (Lk. 5:30). In doing so, they not only separated themselves from the heathen but also from those who were truly penitent servants of God. They had carried separation to excess.
Difficult to change
Changing this pattern of thinking was difficult even for the followers of the Lord Jesus.
That may seem surprising, for they knew Jesus was the Savior of all men. They had been clearly told to preach the gospel in all the world so that, “he that believeth and is baptized [anyone who would rightly respond, not just the circumcised] shall be saved” (Mark 16:16). From their own mouths, the spirit declared that “whosoever [not just Jews] shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved” (Acts 2:21).
Despite such clear direction, they were remarkably reluctant to change their pattern of behavior. The believers did not spread out from Jerusalem until forced to do so by persecution. Philip did not approach the Ethiopian eunuch until specifically directed by an angel. Peter required a vision from heaven and the open outpouring of Holy Spirit gifts to convince him Cornelius could rightly be baptized. Hearing of Cornelius, believers who “were of the circumcision” contended with Peter. As Peter rehearsed the matter to them, they were persuaded, “then hath God also to the Gentiles granted repentance unto life.” But still the gospel was only actively presented to Jews until some disciples finally preached to the Gentiles at Antioch (Acts 8:1,26;10:15,44-48;11:2,18-21).
We know human nature
For centuries, the Israelites had willingly fellowshipped the heathen and their ways, to the point of excluding God from their lives. How could they then become so prejudiced against the Gentiles? Both extremes displeased God. The answer lies in our human nature — it delights to embrace the sensuality of the heathen but it also relishes erecting barriers against people. There is a natural satisfaction in excluding others; it caters to the pride of man.
The point is clearly set out through the apostle Paul. The works of the flesh not only include uncleanness and lasciviousness, they also encompass strife and sedition’s (Gal. 5:19-21). The Greek word rendered “sedition’s” provides pointed insight into the sin in mind: dichostasia “a standing apart” (Young’s Concordance). Those practicing dichostasia deliberately stand apart from others, regarding them as unfit for association. That is exactly what the Jews did to the Gentiles, what the self-righteous did to the publicans and sinners and what the circumcision party in the early ecclesias wanted to do to Cornelius.
In I Corinthians 3, the same Greek word is translated “divisions” (v.3). Again the practice is underscored as a work of the flesh: “For ye are yet carnal: for whereas there is among you…divisions, are ye not carnal, and walk as men.” Brethren in Corinth were standing apart from other brethren who embraced the Truth as well as they did. In doing so, they were walking after the flesh and not the spirit.
Good-sounding reasons
Anyone practicing dichostasia will have reasons for doing so. In Corinth, some felt the teachings of one leader excelled those of another. A brother could well feel that those who did not follow his favorite teacher were headed back to the world. He should stand apart from such individuals.
Those of the circumcision party saw Jesus as the Jewish Messiah, the gospel as exclusively the hope of Israel and all believers as becoming members of the covenant race. It was only right, they felt, that all believers should be circumcised and keep the Law of Moses.
Religious Jews could reason they would be encouraging careless living if they were friendly to publicans and sinners. And Jews must stand apart from every Gentile to avoid the tragedy of their past mistakes.
Balanced living not easy
We must stand apart from Canaanites. To fellowship those who walk in sin is catering to the flesh. Yet we must not stand apart from servants of God. When we do, we cater to the flesh as much as when we love the world.
The decision would be easy if we were all obviously either of the Lord or of the world. All of us, however, have weaknesses of understanding and of conduct. He that judges us is the Lord; until the judgment takes place, we cannot be certain who is in the household and who is not.
Some think the safe course is to exclude others wherever there is a shade of doubt. That is not safe but fleshly if we stand apart from brethren of the Lord. In fact, practicing dichostasia is categorized with the conduct that excludes us from the kingdom of God. We can be too exclusive!
Making right decisions would be easier if we had an ecclesial rule book given us by the Lord. We do not have one for good reason. We are supposed to be learning now to apply the principles of Christ to circumstances we face.
Some feel we should decide on a procedure for our ecclesia and consistently apply it. If a person is excluded, let him go elsewhere. There is comfort in this. The problem with being comfortable, however, is that we may be comfortably wrong. What happens when circumstances arise which our procedure did not anticipate? Do we follow the procedure or do we recognize that we may have to adapt ecclesial policy in the light of the principles of the Truth?
We need to strive for a balance between being too inclusive and too exclusive. We are greatly helped toward right decisions in this regard if we recognize extremes in either direction are the work of the flesh and not the spirit.