Chapter Eight
Dealing With Doctrinal
Differences
Doctrine
"Doctrine
divides, experience unites" is a common slogan today, but it is
deeply misleading. No doubt there are many doctrinal disagreements in the
church. Indeed, when we think of the reasons for continuing denominational
divisions, we naturally think first of doctrinal differences as a reason.
But we cannot brush doctrine aside as a mere impediment to unity, as many
users of that slogan would like to do. A doctrinally indifferent
church is a church which does not care about the gospel message; for
the gospel is precisely a doctrine, a teaching, a narrative of
what God has done for our salvation. Indeed, any church worthy of
the name must be doctrinally united, in the sense of being fully committed
to one message, the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is indeed that doctrine
which unites us in our love for Christ; and it is our foolish trust in our
own experience that leads us to compromise that message. Doctrine unites,
experience divides![1]
What
is this "gospel" to which we must all be committed? It is
summarized in John 3:16, 5:24, Acts 2:38f, 16:31, Rom. 3:23f, I Cor.
15:3-8, Eph. 2:8f, Tit. 3:4-8, I Pet.3:18, I John 5:11f and elsewhere. But
the concepts in these verses are intimately related to those of other
passages of Scripture, and they to still others, and so on. Ultimately,
our commitment, and the doctrinal basis of the church, is the
entire Bible. It is not enough, however, for a church merely to
confess the authority of Scripture. Many cults, for example, are
doing that today, but are certainly not preaching the authentic gospel of
Christ. Therefore we must have in the church, not only a common confession
of biblical authority, but also some measure of common agreement as to
what Scripture teaches.
In
Defense of Tolerance
I
say "some measure." I do think it is unreasonable to require
agreement on every doctrinal point
within the church. It may well be doubted whether such total agreement
can ever be achieved among human beings until the last judgment.
To put the point that way is to make it seem obvious; most Christians
would concede it. Sometimes, however, Christians talk as if total
agreement were not only possible, but a prerequisite to fellowship.
"The pretribulation rapture is God's truth! We may not compromise it! We
must exclude anyone who denies it." This kind of talk makes sense
only on the assumption that everything
in Scripture is a test of orthodoxy, that no disagreement is to
be tolerated on any matter. Once we agree that some toleration
is legitimate, then certainly we cannot simply assume that
the pretribulation rapture, or anything else, is a test of
orthodoxy. Certainly on that assumption, the mere fact that
Scripture teaches a doctrine is insufficient to prove that that doctrine should
be used as a test of orthodoxy. Those wishing to show that it is must
offer additional argument.
But
why should there be toleration?[2]
Even if we don't accept the pretribulation rapture, we can understand the
point of those who would make it a test of fellowship. If God teaches the
pretribulation rapture, who are we to deny it? And if the church is to
guard God's truth, surely it must guard this truth also. Extending the
argument, it would seem that the church must be totally agreed on every
doctrinal matter.
Ah,
but nobody really believes that. Even people who insist on uniformity
within the church as to pretribulationism generally allow for some areas
of permissible disagreement. Every church I know of tolerates disagreement
on the reasons for God's rejecting Cain's sacrifice in Gen. 4:5, the
meaning of the "mark" in Gen. 4:15, the exegesis of Gen. 6:1-4,
the length of Israel's stay in Egypt (Exod. 12:40f, Acts 7:6), the
reconciliation of the numbers in Kings and Chronicles, the nature of
"baptism for the dead" in I Cor. 15:29,[3]
or of "sin unto death" in I John 5:16. When you think about
it, you can see that every denomination recognizes a great many teachings
of Scripture about which sincere Christians may arrive at different
conclusions.
Scripture
itself explicitly warrants tolerance within certain limits. Of course,
Scripture speaks very strongly against heresy, false teaching. Those who
preach "another gospel" are accursed (Gal. 1:6-9). Those who
deny the resurrection eliminate the Christian hope (I Cor. 15:1-34).
Those denying the truth or teaching falsehood receive strong
rebukes (II Thess. 2, 3:14f, I Tim. 1:3ff, 6:3-5, II Tim. 2:14-19,
3:1-9, 4:3-5, Tit. 3:9ff, II Pet. 2, 3:4ff, I John 2:22f, 4:1-3, II
John 7, Jude); God's people are urged to maintain the truth. But
these instances of "false teaching" are all either denials of
the basic gospel of grace, or else they are (as I Tim. 1:3ff)
foolish speculations which distract us from Christ. These condemnations are
not directed against merely incorrect opinions, as if every such incorrect
opinion deserved condemnation. (If that were true, we would all be
condemned, for we all, most likely, hold some incorrect opinions.) Indeed,
some kinds of disagreements, such as the disagreement over idol food in I
Cor. 8, are not to result in
anyone's condemnation, but in mutual forbearance (cf. Rom. 14, 15).
Here
I must differ with Thomas M'Crie, whose defense of church unity I commended
earlier in the present volume. M'Crie grants that some doctrines are
more important than others, but then he adds,
It is
not, however, their comparative importance or utility, but their
truth and the authority of him who has revealed (the doctrines),
which is the proper and formal reason of our receiving, professing
and maintaining them. And this applies equally to all the contents
of a divine revelation.[4]
He continues,
Whatever God
has revealed we are bound to receive and hold fast; and whatever he has
enjoined we are bound to obey; and the liberty which we dare not arrogate
to ourselves we cannot give to others. It is not, indeed, necessary that
the confession or testimony of the Church (meaning by this that
which is explicitly made by her, as distinguished from her
declared adherence to the whole Word of God) should contain all
truths. But then any of them may come to be included in it, when
opposed or endangered; and it is no sufficient reason for excluding
any of them that they are less important than others, or that
they have been doubted and denied by good and learned men.[5]
M'Crie evidently believes that
once a consensus develops in a denomination over any biblical teaching, no matter how major or minor that
teaching may be, the denomination may legitimately add that teaching to
its Confession of Faith (though it is not obligated to do so) and thus
prohibit any contrary views on pain of church discipline. Any doctrine,
by that route, could become a test of orthodoxy. That could
include interpretations of the sin unto death, baptism for the dead,
or whatever.
I
think that at this point M'Crie is simply wrong. For one thing, he ignores
the fact that Scripture itself urges mutual tolerance in some areas of
disagreement, as we have seen. On the basis of Rom. 14, I would say that
it would be very wrong for a denomination to forbid vegetarianism in its
creed and subject vegetarians among its members to judicial penalties. The
mere fact that God's Word rejects the claims of the vegetarians is
no reason to exercise formal sanctions against such people.
M'Crie evidently fails to distinguish between our obligation to
affirm what we think Scripture teaches (which includes the
entire content of scripture) and our obligation to exercise formal
ecclesiastical discipline to test and maintain orthodoxy (an obligation
which does not pertain to every teaching of Scripture). But that
distinction is important; and if we observe it, there are some doctrinal
differences that we may and must tolerate within the church, in the sense
that those matters are not to be tests of orthodoxy.
I
also reject the argument that says that since all biblical doctrines are
interconnected, so that to reject one is implicitly to reject all the
rest, therefore all must equally be regarded as tests of orthodoxy in the
church. Surely there is an logical interconnection, though one may
question how far it extends. To deny the deity of Christ, for example,
logically entails (with a few other premises) a denial of the efficacy
of the atonement. I doubt if any such momentous implications
attach to one's view of baptism for the dead or (contra many) of the
millennium. But even if there is a much tighter logical connection than I
am able to see at the moment, the question still remains as to how much
logical consistency is necessary to qualify one for church membership or
church office. Logical consistency, after all, is something that is
learned over time. Developing a logically consistent system of biblical
doctrine is not a perfectly simple task; it has been the life work of
some very great minds. It is an area in which most all of us have
some growing to do. To say that all doctrines of Scripture are
tests of orthodoxy is to say that each church officer, or even
each member, must have achieved such a system from the outset. Such
a requirement seems to me to be obviously absurd and without
any scriptural warrant. Indeed, even apostles were inconsistent
at times (Gal. 2). Thus, we must accept the fact that
Scripture permits doctrinal tolerance up to a point.
Why
does the Bible authorize this kind of tolerance? 1. First, because it
recognizes that each believer is subject to growth in his understanding,
and that even leaders in the church have some growing to do. That growth
is a process; we may not demand that a church member or officer has all
spiritual knowledge from the outset of his life or ministry. As it is
with individuals, so it is with the church as a whole. Certainly God calls
the church to guard all of his truth, once for all delivered to the saints
(Jude 3). But there are some areas in which the church simply cannot say
it knows what that truth is! A study of history reveals that the church
has grown very gradually in its understanding of Scripture. In every
age, the church has been ignorant of important matters. In the first three
centuries, formulations of the doctrine of the Trinity were accepted
as orthodox, which after the fourth century would be
universally rejected as heresy; likewise doctrines of the person of
Christ before Chalcedon. It is very difficult to find anyone between
Paul and Luther who had a clear understanding of justification by faith.
The church's understanding of "covenant" really began in the
seventeenth century. Is it not possible that we too are ignorant of some
matters which future generations of Christians (or perhaps no one before
the eschaton will come to understand? If so, it would make sense to
tolerate various opinions in these areas[6]
until the church is able to reach a unity of mind. In my view the church
in the year 200 would have been wrong to require of its ministers
a fully wrought-out understanding of the Trinity, even if the proposed
formulation happened to be right. For there was at that time no consensus.
There had not been sufficient clear teaching in the church on this subject
so that those deviating from a norm could be charged
with rebelliousness. Although the doctrine of the Trinity was in
the Bible, there was a sense in which, as of 200 A. D., God had not taught that doctrine to the church.
2.
Scripture also recognizes that there are different levels of difficulty
within God's revelation itself. Even Peter says that Paul's letters
contain things that are hard to be understood (II Pet. 3:16).[7]
The biblical requirements for church membership, even for the eldership,
do not include intellectual brilliance. It may very well be,
as Cornelius Van Til argues, that the doctrine of the
Trinity resolves the philosophical question of the One and the Many;
but it would be wrong for a church to require its members or
elders to understand, confess or endorse that proposition.
3.
Another factor which somewhat limits our understanding of the Bible is the
cultural and historical distance between ourselves and the biblical
period. On the general level, there is our ignorance of biblical
languages, customs and so on. More specifically, it is clear that the
readers of 1 Corinthians, for example, knew some things that we don't know
(and are not likely to find out). 1 Corinthians is evidently a response to
a letter which the church wrote to Paul. The Corinthians may have remembered
the precise contents of that letter; we can never do that.
The Corinthians evidently knew what "baptism for the dead" was.
We are not in their position. The same logic pertains to
doctrinal issues like infant baptism. In the first century, that problem was
easily solved. If anyone had a question, he could simply look up the
nearest apostle and inquire as to the apostolic practice. We cannot do
that. Nor, since the reformation, do we acknowledge any single source as
an accurate transmitter of apostolic tradition.
4.
Another reason for tolerance is that some matters in Scripture (pace
M'Crie) are just not important enough to be used as tests of orthodoxy.
Here we must be careful: for who are we to declare something in God's Word
unimportant? Yet the Lord himself distinguishes between weightier and less
weighty matters in God's revelation (Matt. 23:23). We are speaking here,
not of absolute importance but of relative importance (i.e., compared
to other teachings of God's Word), and we are seeking to determine that
importance, not by subjecting Scripture to our autonomous standards, but
by comparing Scripture with Scripture, by listening to what Scripture
itself takes to be important. Baptism for the dead, even if we do come to
understand what it is, is not central enough in Scripture, is not closely
enough connected to the central message of Scripture, to be a test
of orthodoxy.
Now
I think God understands all this (pardon the understatement). He knows
that there are levels of importance in Scripture and that we are
historically removed from the scriptural milieu through no fault of our
own. He knows that Scripture is difficult at points and that growth in
knowledge is a process. He does not, therefore, expect either church
members or officers to know and affirm specifically every teaching
of Scripture. And if he does not expect this, we must not demand
it either. There must be some room for different opinions on
matters in which these factors play a role.
When
a church teacher holds to a respectable interpretation of, say, the
"sin unto death," which we personally believe to be erroneous,
we generally do not (and should not) conclude that this error disqualifies
him as a teacher. We are still free to regard him as sound and edifying.
Indeed, on such matters, most of us would concede the strong possibility
that we might be wrong (even if
we sincerely believe we are right) and that the teacher in question might
be right. That would not be the case if, say, in my PCA church he taught a
Roman Catholic view of justification.[8]
We
must ask seriously what doctrinal differences should be tolerated in the
church in our own time. That is a difficult question to answer, contrary
to those who assume without argument that, say, the pretribulation
rapture, must be a test of orthodoxy. It is difficult, first, because to
my knowledge no one has ever studied the question in a truly systematic
way. Many have asked what doctrines are true; few if any have asked from
distinctively evangelical
premises[9]
how much diversity the church ought to tolerate.
Second,
the question is difficult because the answer is historically variable. If
my earlier argument is correct, views tolerable in the church in the year
200 are not necessarily tolerable in the year 2000, since God continually
teaches his church new things out of the Scriptures.
Third,
the question is particularly difficult because of the scourge of
denominationalism. The more divided the church is, the less able it is to
study the scriptures together.
The great Trinitarian formulations of
When
study of "covenant" began in earnest in the seventeenth century,
it was largely limited to Reformed circles. Now, three centuries later, we
are seeing the fruit of that study in many denominations. Most all
theologians today admit that "covenant" is a central category of
biblical theology. We can be thankful for that process; but my guess is
that had the church been united, the dissemination of this knowledge
would have taken much less time.
There
are signs that some in the Roman Catholic Church are
rethinking, sympathetically this time, the doctrine of justification
by faith. Personally, I am delighted that this is happening; but I
very much regret that it could not have happened 400 years ago.
Part
of the problem is the imbalance of gifts from one denomination to
another. Some denominations may have an overabundance of scholarly
and spiritual theological talent, and so they learn God's lessons
at a faster rate.[10]
Other denominations may be gifted in other ways, but slower to learn
theological doctrines. Another part of the problem may be that God teaches
different things to different denominational groups. He has taught
Polish Catholics and Chinese Christians many things about
dealing with the gospel's adversaries that he has not taught the rest
of us. God taught the Roman Catholics about the terrible evil of
abortion long before that concern took hold within Protestant evangelicalism.
At present, East African Christians seem to have had much more
experience with, and insight into, revival than have Christians living
elsewhere.
The
tolerance I advocate should not be confused with doctrinal indifference.
My argument is not that doctrine in general is unimportant or
that the church should tolerate an unlimited number of
different views. Nor do I think tolerance is good in itself, an attitude
to be cultivated in all church matters. Rather, even the amount of tolerance
I advocate is based on our limitations, limitations we hope to overcome as
God gives wisdom and strength. The ideal is not a tolerant church in which
all views are given equal respect (=doctrinal indifference); rather it is
a church in which all are agreed on the truth so that tolerance of
opposing views is unnecessary. But we have not reached that ideal yet;
we may not reach it until we are in heaven. At the present stage
of history, there must be tolerance simply because there is
no alternative.
Back
to the Future?
In
an earlier draft of this book, I suggested what I called my "back to
the future" proposal, which would involve uniting all Christians
under one church government doctrinally based on the Scriptures and the
Niceno-Constantinopolitan Creed of 381 A. D. That creed was the last creed
that was agreed to by the one, true church and which is acknowledged by
virtually all Christians to this day. That would, in effect, take us
back before 451, before the major schisms. Then we could study Scripture
together, hopefully without the atmosphere of party spirit, time pressure
and fear that has surrounded such discussions in the past.
The
assumption of the proposal is that since God has been teaching different
denominations at different rates each group should be willing to wait, in
effect, for the others to catch up. Presbyterians should seek to teach
their view of predestination to the whole church, so that the whole church
could pass judgment on it, before that doctrine is given creedal status.
This
proposal, I think, would not be disastrous for the church. As I indicated
earlier, the church existed for 300 years before agreeing on a definitive
formulation of the doctrine of the Trinity. Similarly 450 years for
Christology, 1500 years for an adequate formulation of justification by
faith, still longer for an adequate doctrine of predestination. Yet during
these waiting periods, churches were being planted, souls
saved, believers taught, the poor cared for. People can, after all,
come to salvation with very little if any intellectual grasp
of theology. People can be saved (i.e. justified by predestinating
grace through faith) without being able to articulate the doctrines in view. Someone who trusts Christ
exclusively and entirely for forgiveness and salvation surely belongs to
Christ, whether or not he is able to articulate the nature of that trust.[11]
However,
even in the previous draft I had to admit that this proposal is not a very
practical one. The chances of our agreeing to accept it are very slight
indeed, and if we did accept it, we would still have a lot of growing to
do before we could listen to one another without the antagonisms of
our denominational past. I merely mention it to indicate some of
the issues that would have to be considered if reunion is our goal.
And,
to be honest, I must say that I really do not want, even in principle, to
endorse the proposal. I really do not want to be part of a church which is
unwilling to subscribe to the New Testament doctrines of justification and
predestination. In this modern period, attempts to preach the gospel
without acknowledging those scriptural truths are confusing. We can
do much better than that, for God has taught some of us how. I
would not want to be in a church where, for even a while,
ministers were free to disagree with these teachings. These truths are
too precious to be lost in an ecumenical shuffle. Their loss
would not be a disaster, as I said earlier, but it would be
crippling in the present context. Perhaps I am here admitting that I am
not as ecumenical as I claim to be. If so, may God teach me a
better way. But I am sure that reunion worthy of the name will
not appear on a basis of doctrinal indifference, but on a basis
of greater doctrinal insight, granted by God to the whole church.
Another
argument against "back to the future" is the existence of
theological liberalism in many denominations today. As I have said
earlier, I believe, with many evangelicals, that liberalism (in its many
forms, including "neo-orthodoxy") is not Christianity,
but another, humanistic religion expressed in Christian language.
Any worthwhile proposal for reunion would need at the same time
to exclude liberal elements. But if we adopted the "back to
the future" proposal, I suspect that many liberals would join in.
The Niceno-Constantinopolitan creed, to be sure, is
supernaturalistic enough to exclude liberalism; but I doubt if it is
sufficiently detailed to refute the subtleties of language which liberals
use to conceal the radicalism of their theology.
I
raise the "back to the future" proposal, therefore, not as a
serious plan for reunion, but as a way to stimulate our thinking toward a
more practical plan. I don't wish to tolerate those who deny justification
by faith or biblical predestination; but there may be room for tolerance
on some other matters that we often take for granted. Perhaps it is
impractical to suggest that we all merge into one church and then study
the Scriptures together on the contested issues. But surely at the very
least we ought to promote cross-denominational Bible study, in all
of these areas. Such Bible study should avoid partisanship
and political maneuvering; it should be informed on all sides by
a spirit of love, gentleness, teachability. Do I believe that we can
thereby make some progress on issues which have been contested for
hundreds of years? By God's grace, yes, I do.
There
will be some more specific practical proposals in the last chapter of this
book. Practical steps are not my strong suit, however. What I hope to do
in this book is to communicate a vision to others who can implement that
vision far more effectively than I can. Hence a few more
"perspectives."
Perspectivalism
in Doctrine
As
we seek to engage fellow Christians in cross-denominational dialogue, it
is important for us to keep in mind certain fundamental facts about the
Scriptures and about theology. For one thing, Scripture itself is a
wonderfully rich, many-faceted book. It does not fit the pattern that has
become stereotyped in our systematic theologies. Rather, it
contains narrative, poetry, wisdom literature, apocalyptic, law,
epistle. Within those books are many types of language:
indicatives, imperatives, interrogatives, performatives, treaties,
parables, exclamations, literal, figurative, allusive, vague,
precise, solemn, humorous, denunciation, encouragement, general,
specific, etc.
"Teachings
of Scripture" or "doctrines" are found in various places in
Scripture and are learned in various ways. Sometimes they are stated
fairly straightforwardly, as in Paul's epistles. Even here, however, we
must remember that Paul does not (even in Romans) intend to write what we
would call a systematic theology. He is dealing with the needs of
particular churches. The doctrinal truths of Paul's letters must be carefully extracted,
to make sure we are rightly applying his "occasional" thoughts
to our general theological questions. In other parts of Scripture, we need
to use even more exegetical caution. Narrative teaches doctrine, but it
does so in a different way from parable or epistle or wisdom literature.
Many doctrinal disagreements arise out of failure (by one party or both)
to exegete carefully, taking into account the sort of language found in
scripture.
It
is also interesting to note another form of richness in Scripture: God
seems to delight in teaching the same thing in many different ways. He
gives us two accounts of the Kings of Judah: one in Samuel-Kings, the
other in Chronicles. He gives us four accounts of Jesus' earthly ministry,
death and resurrection: the four gospels. He gives us a prose account of
the
Well,
it isn't really repetition. For each time Scripture "repeats"
something, it gives fresh illumination. It presents the old truth from a
new angle. In one sense, the whole biblical message is presented in Gen.
3:15. But God was not satisfied to leave us with only that early
formulation of the good news. He wanted us to explore its aspects, to
meditate, to see it from many angles.
These
"angles" I am in the habit of calling "perspectives."
As in my earlier use of the term in this book, a "perspective"
is a viewpoint on something. Since we are finite beings and cannot see
everything at once as God can, it is important that we at least see the
truth from as many different perspectives, as many different angles, as we
can. In an earlier book, I went into some detail as to the bearing of this
principle on theology.[12]
Here let me simply say that it is especially important to multiply
perspectives when we are discussing doctrine cross-denominationally.
We
should at least consider the possibility that some doctrinal differences
are the result of two parties coming to the scriptural text from different
perspectives. I think that the seventeenth century controversy between
supra- and infralapsarians is certainly a controversy of this sort.[13]
Certainly I would not say that all doctrinal differences can be described
that way. Certainly the more serious divisions are not mere differences in perspective. Rather,
in most of these controversies, one or both parties is simply
in error.[14]
Still, in most of these controversies, there is an element
of perspectival difference as well as elements of error.
Certainly the Arminian comes to the question of predestination with a
different focus from the Calvinist. He is interested primarily in
maintaining human responsibility and freedom. The Calvinist, on the
other hand, is interested more in maintaining the sovereignty of God.
Both concerns are scriptural; one might say that they are both legitimate
"perspectives" from which to view the issues. Combine this
perspectival difference with a difference (somewhere) of truth vs. error,
and you have a debate on your hands.
Vern
Poythress recommends, and I concur, that in situations like this we try to
"pre-empt" the other person's fundamental concerns. Rather than
going on and on about the sovereignty of God, the Calvinist should seek to
show that his view does better justice to human responsibility
and freedom. The Arminian should seek to show that his view
results in a credible doctrine of divine sovereignty. I do believe
that we will be more likely to see our own errors if we make an
effort to consider the issues from the perspectives of others.
Certainly this is required if we are to show biblical love for one
another in the process of theological discussion. And certainly we
will maximize our understanding of scripture if we are able to see
the same truth from a maximum number of perspectives.
Subscription
Creeds,
I believe, are a valid and important way for churches to present to the
world their understanding of the biblical message.[15]
A denomination rightly exerts theological discipline by requiring
some allegiance to these standards. But there have been many kinds
of subscription through history. One may distinguish subscription
by officers from subscription by all church members, subscription
to every "jot and tittle" of the creed from a more
general subscription to the "system of doctrine" found in the
creed, and so on.
In
my view, only a very minimal subscription should be required of church
members in general. The conditions for church membership should be no
narrower than the Scriptures' conditions for belonging to the
Some
groups have argued that because a church must be unified in its
confession, every member of the church should be expected to subscribe to
the church's doctrinal standards. But in churches with fairly elaborate
doctrinal standards like the Westminster Confession of Faith or the
Heidelberg Catechism, this sort of policy would restrict church
membership only to the highly intelligent; for only they are capable
of intelligently subscribing to such documents. This would be a
very narrow criterion, far narrower than that of Scripture itself.[17]
Lack of such a policy need not bring disunity. A congregation is united by
its faith, not by its intelligence. And there is no reason why
a congregation might not leave the more important decisions in
the hands of those who do subscribe to its standards, so that
the lack of universal subscription would not lead to
any deterioration in its commitment.
Among
church officers, it is legitimate to expect them to subscribe to
confessional statements, for the issue with them is not their faith as
such (as in the case of members) but their qualifications to teach and
make decisions for the church. Even here, however, we must be careful what
form the subscription takes. If the church requires its officers to
subscribe to every "jot and tittle" of the confession on pain of
ecclesiastical discipline, then the confession becomes in
principle unamendable.[18]
Anyone wishing to amend it would on that very account be subject to discipline.
An unamendable creed becomes, in effect, the equivalent of Scripture,
thus Scripture itself loses its unique authority in the church. Thus there
must be some leeway, some at least momentary tolerance, some legroom for
people who conscientiously believe that something in the confession is
unscriptural. The arrangement may be such as to force the church into
a re-examination of its doctrines, or on less important matters (see
earlier discussion) it might simply lead to a permitting of differences in
these areas.
We
ought to do some more thinking about what doctrines really are
non-negotiable. The Evangelical Free Church requires professors at
As
we do such analysis, it should be with a view to the effect it will have
on a biblical ecumenism. Obviously, the more "non-negotiable"
doctrines we have, the more difficult it will be to merge our
denominations with other bodies. And the stricter our formula of
subscription, again, the more difficult it will be to enter organizational
union with other churches. Of course, it is more important to be biblical
than to be maximally available for church unions. But ecumenism is also a
biblical goal, and it may work to help keep us from needlessly
overcommitting ourselves in areas where scripture allows some tolerance of
diversity.