Divisions are wrong. This is a first principle of the faith, which — alas — has never been given as much prominence in our brotherhood as it deserves. The following passage shows what Paul thought of divisions:
“Now I beseech you, brethren, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that ye all speak the same thing, and that there be no divisions among you; but that ye be perfectly joined together in the same judgment.
“For it hath been declared unto me of you…that every one of you saith, I am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas; and I of Christ.
“Is Christ divided?…” (I Cor. 1:10-13).
One body
Paul intended his readers to answer that last question with a resounding, “No! Christ is not divided.” That is obvious from the way he exhorted the Ephesians to “keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body…” (Eph. 4:3,4).
A brother once tried to defend our community’s attitude toward dividing by arguing that the first century divisions were personality-oriented, whereas ours are based on questions of doctrine. Such a notion is completely at variance with the facts. Is it possible to read I Corinthians without realizing that this ecclesia was buzzing with doctrinal arguments? Is it possible to read Christadelphian history without learning of Doweyites, Elstonites, Bro. Bell’s, Bro. Trapp’s or Bro. Hall’s fellowship?
Paul’s day and ours are much the same: divisions have practically always been caused by doctrinal issues espoused by leading teachers, whose names have often become attached to the groups who followed them.
Worse than Corinth?
Yet there was one important difference between the Corinthian divisions and our Christadelphian ones. The various groups in Corinth still came together for the breaking of bread (I Cor. 11:17-20) whereas our divisions involve total separation from the other groups. Our divisions are worse than theirs because ours go further.
There is only one form of separation that Paul advocated: that between the one body and the outside world (II Cor. 6:16-18).
Consequently, we need to ask ourselves: Do the Unamended Fellowship, and the Old Paths Fellowship, and the Berean Fellowship, and all the other fellowships belong to the body of Christ or to the unbelieving world? (And they, of course, need to ask the same question about each other, and about us.) Because, if they belong to Christ, it is wrong and anti-scriptural for us to be separated from them.
Contending for the Truth
Two related problems need to be addressed.
First, how can we contend against error (as we must) without having the occasional division? This question is similar to that of the sister who asked, “Since my husband is much stronger than I am, how can I stop him ill-treating our little girl unless I’m allowed to threaten him with a gun?”
We know the answer. The end does not justify the means. It is not advisable to break one commandment in order to keep another. We must learn to contend for Truth without having (or perpetuating) divisions. Paul managed it. He contended against several different heresies in I & II Corinthians, yet insisted upon unity.
Benefit of the doubt
The second problem is what to do when we are undecided, when we really can’t make up our minds whether a certain community is part of the body of Christ, or not. Romans 14:4, 10-13 should help us here:
“Who art thou that judgest another man’s servant? To his own master he standeth or falleth…But why dost thou judge thy brother? Or why dost thou set at nought thy brother?…every one of us shall give account of himself to God. Let us not therefore judge one another any more…”
In modern English, this says we are forbidden to make negative judgments about the standing in God’s sight of those who profess to be our brethren. Where there is a borderline case, we must evidently give the other party the benefit of the doubt.
It is difficult to escape this conclusion: whereas there must be separation between the body of Christ and the outside world, to have divisions within the one body is an offense against the Lord. How is it that we, of all people — with our insistence upon basing all that we do upon scripture -have missed this point so badly that we have become one of the most division-prone communities on earth?
Knowledge puffeth up
One of the causes of division in Corinth was the question of eating the meat from animals that had been sacrificially killed in a pagan temple. In big cities like Corinth, this was apparently the only meat that was readily available — especially for those slaves who were not permitted to make the long trip into the countryside for shopping. What should they do? Eat whatever meat they could get, and ignore its pagan origin? Or become vegetarians? It is not surprising that arguments about this raged in the early church.
In the course of a long passage on this topic, Paul stated a principle that, if accepted, would have made division impossible. He said: “Knowledge puffeth up…and if any man think that he knoweth anything, he knoweth nothing yet as he ought to know” (I Cor. 8:1-2).
A little later, in case his readers had failed to get the message, he repeated it in a different form. And this time he made it clear that he even included himself in his warning about our present lack of knowledge. “What we see now is like a dim image in a mirror (through a glass darkly, KJV); then [in the kingdom] we shall see face to face. What I know now is only partial; then it will be complete” (I Cor. 13:12, GNB).
Rather humiliating
These two passages add up to a rather humiliating view of ourselves. We “know nothing” by comparison with what we ought to know; our view of divine reality is no better than “a dim image in a [first-century] mirror;” our knowledge is “only partial.” Paul makes it clear that neither he, nor we, have any reason to be proud of such Bible knowledge as we have.
The point is underscored when we remember Paul is referring to the likeness given by a first-century mirror. These were made of impure, tarnished metal hammered out by a blacksmith. They were then polished with fairly primitive materials which resulted in a “dim image” being seen of the person looking into it.
Our knowledge — a dim image of the real thing? How can that be? Well, that’s what Paul said!
There is some consolation, however, in the realization that the more you work at the polishing operation, the less dim the image becomes. As we carefully study our Bibles, we can reasonably expect to see a rather less dim image than before. But we dare not contradict Paul by claiming 20/20 spiritual vision.
Our faulty minds
The same unflattering view of our intellects and our grasp of truth is also found in several other parts of scripture, especially Jeremiah. Unfortunately, it is easy to miss the message because the Biblical word for intellect is “heart” — not “brains.” If we make this substitution, then Jeremiah is really telling us: “The mind is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked” (Jer. 17:9).
This organ, “deceitful above all things,” is the one we are forced to use when we study our Bibles or engage in a religious argument. It is hardly surprising that, at the end of the day, we still only see a dim image in a [primitive] mirror. Yet this doctrine of the fallibility of our minds and the limited nature of our understanding has generally been overlooked by most of us. Why?
Hard to take
Presumably it is because such teaching is highly unpalatable. Human beings hate to have their wisdom questioned. Most worldly people would much rather be called a rogue than a fool. And most of us are much more ready to say, “The way I live the Truth is imperfect,” than, “The way I understand the Truth is imperfect.”
Perhaps the main reason for our reluctance to admit there might be anything lacking in our understanding is that this threatens our security. We like to feel that our religious ideas are all neatly parceled up, with no loose ends, no gray areas of uncertainty, no unanswered questions. The thought that we might be mistaken on any religious issue — however trivial — makes us ill at ease.
On top of this, there is the fear of what our brothers and sisters might think of us, if we were to admit being unsure of anything. We know that if, at our baptismal interview, we had answered to any question, “I’m not quite sure about that — I only see a dim image in a mirror,” the examining brethren might not have replied, “Well done! That’s just what God inspired Paul to tell you about yourself.” Instead, they might have rejected us.
And there is still the nagging fear that disfellowship might be the result of speaking humbly, and tentatively saying, “I think so, but I might possibly be mistaken.”
So we tend to speak assertively, dogmatically, and with the assurance that comes of convincing ourselves, “I know I’m right.” This makes us feel secure and comfortable. So we are tempted to banish from our minds the Bible’s many warnings about our mental limitations.
Coming to the point
What does all this have to do with divisions? A great deal. It is surely not a coincidence that the first of Paul’s warnings about the inadequacy of our knowledge was given to those engaged in a heated controversy.
Paul knew that arguments and divisions feed on the “I’m right, you’re wrong” attitude. He knew that the flames of controversy die down as soon as one contestant says, “I might be wrong — I often am,” and die out altogether if the other party responds with similar humility.
The division that plagues North American Christadelphia today would probably never have occurred if, in the nineteenth century, the disputing brethren had all said, “I only see a dim image in a mirror, but I’m inclined to take the view that…” And even today, that division wouldn’t last much longer if we all learned from Paul and began to say, “I think my statement of faith is more likely to be right than the other, but I could be mistaken because my knowledge is only partial.”
Could this ever happen? Of course it could. But I doubt if it will.
I fear that ingrained habits, such as overestimating our own knowledge, taking for granted the existing state of affairs, accepting without question the absolute rightness of “our side’s” point of view, and speaking dogmatically instead of humbly, will probably serve to perpetuate the division.
Of course, I could be wrong in my pessimism, for I have often been wrong before. Wouldn’t it be lovely if I were wrong this time!
The Origin of the Organic World – Part One