STRIFE AND THE ANTIDOTES

(Hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife,

  seditions, heresies, envyings, murder)

MORE vices fall into this category than any other category of the works of the flesh. Over half the works relate to strife. Is that trying to tell us something? That we're more prone to this kind of failing than any other? Who can doubt it? The history of the human race is one long, sorry tale of strife, from Cain and Abel onwards. Man against man, faction against faction, religion against religion, party against party, community against community, nation against nation. Every generation, every society, has been plagued by animosity.

Strife seems always to have been mankind's preoccupation, as if we've never had anything better to do. Without something to struggle against we often lose our sense of purpose. It's as if people can't cope with the quiet life! Even our entertainments are mostly strife-centred. Ask yourself how many books, films and plays would vanish if all those which depended on some kind of conflict were removed. Ninety-nine per cent of the fiction would disappear. Though, to our credit, most people enjoy such entertainments because through them they can fantasise about good triumphing over evil, the good guy over the bad—which is so often missing from real life.

Do you realise that a stable world of permanent peace would be totally lacking in material for novelists, screenwriters and playwrights? Such entertainments are certain to be missing from the future age, when God "shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away" (Rev.21:4). When conflict is missing from reality it's hard to believe it will persist as entertainment!—especially when you consider that even in this present world, God not only condemns the physical manifestations of the works of the flesh, but also those people who, while not doing them themselves, "have pleasure in them that do them" (Rom.1:29-32).

It could be argued that reading and watching conflicts for enjoyment is having pleasure in those that do them. Though perhaps it's more a matter of how far what you read or watch goes in its wallowing in human baseness, and the sort of pleasure you derive from it. For many people it's the resolution of conflict which they seek in fiction—the "happy ever after" factor that is missing from their reality. But that end doesn't always justify the means of getting there!

I wouldn't want to set any rules here for believers; they'd probably be ignored anyway. It's for each believer to decide what is acceptable. Not to themselves, that is!—but to God. A peep at the list of "think on these things" items in Philippians 4:8 will usually help decide.

Hatred (echthra)

Hatred begins the list in this category of strife. In fact, the category might equally have been headed hatred rather than strife, because there's an element of hatred in all these manifestations of strife. The Greek behind hatred is echthra, and Galatians 5:20 is the only place in the New Testament where the word is translated hatred. On every other occasion (five) it is translated enmity. It's helpful to know that echthra is a form of echthros which means enemy. To have feelings of echthra towards another is to consider and treat that person as your foe.

The Septuagint's use of the word is telling, because a number of times it uses the word to refer to bad feelings which are submerged, hidden in the heart, unexpressed. The Proverbs especially use echthra this way. It is in the heart, of course, that all hatred resides and festers: it's not in the fist or the mouth or the gun. These things merely express the hatred in the heart. But mostly the hatred stays in the heart, unexpressed. This line from Jeremiah 9:8 RAV describes the situation: "one speaks peaceably to his neighbour with his mouth, but in heart he lies in wait." That is to say, in his heart he's thinking murderous thoughts.

Here lies the particular danger for believers: the problem of concealed hatred. I think it's fair to say that believers feel more strongly than many other people that they have to keep up appearances. It is unacceptable for believers to express hatreds if they have any. And, instead of resolving them through forgiveness (the spiritual fruits of longsuf-fering and patience), we may be tempted to speak peace to our neighbours while harbouring enmity. There's plenty of scope for play-acting and self-deceit among believers. Part of the self-deceit is to pretend that hatred is far too strong a word for what we feel towards certain others. We have only a mild dislike. And justifiably so, we might think, when you consider what they did, and what they are like. Well, who could blame us? So we avoid them if we can. We wouldn't go out of our way to help them. We wouldn't do them any real harm, of course, but we do communicate our 'mild dislike' of them to other people if we get the chance.

What it all adds up to is that we treat that other person as an enemy. It's enmity, pure and simple. Or how differently would we treat an enemy?

Variance (eris)—The Corinthian Games

Variance is a word fast falling into disuse. The newer translations don't use it. The Revised Authorised gives contentions, which gives more of a clue to the meaning behind eris. Contentions exist where there are contests. And while contests are all very good and healthy in games and sports, they are decidedly unhealthy in our daily interactions with other people.

Back in the first century, the Apostle Paul had to write to the Corinthian believers about a contest that was going on, not in the local arena, but in the church. News had reached Paul that "there are contentions [eris] among you" (1 Cor. 1:11). Factions were forming in the church at Corinth. Some were saying, "I'm a follower of Paul", others "I am of Apollos", others "I am of Peter", others "I am of Christ." Groups of Corinthian believers were lining up behind different leaders, just as they might form rival groups of supporters for the red, blue, green and yellow chariot teams at the local races!

Each group of believers had created its own special "hero". Naturally, this was beginning to fragment the church at Corinth. If Paul couldn't stop it in time, this contest was going to produce four churches at Corinth, not one, each preaching essentially the same gospel under a different banner. Worst of all, each group would then start eyeing the others with suspicion and feeling superior to them because it alone had the truth. In time the slight differences would be magnified out of all proportion, and four different versions of Christianity would have been born—all wrong! This is what is called being at variance.

Could it happen today? You'd have to be extremely naive to say it couldn't. There has been no noticeable improvement in human nature over the last two thousand years. Whenever believers make the mistake of grouping round a personality instead of a true set of Christian doctrines, there will be contentions

Hero worship is a sad human failing. It's a symptom of our own insecurity if we must attach ourselves to another who appears to have all the answers. It relieves us of the difficult task of having to sort things out for ourselves. In reality the 'hero' is no better qualified to guide our understanding than we are ourselves. But perhaps he speaks well, and thinks faster than we do; perhaps he has a striking appearance and a forceful personality, and a high-flying job. For any number of reasons we may set someone on a pedestal and look to them for the answers to life, the universe and everything. It certainly saves thinking. And it can take the place of searching the Scriptures for ourselves—which will make us all the more easily led.

Though, to be fair, hero worship can sometimes work to our advantage. As when Paul said, "Be ye followers of me, even as I also am of Christ"—a quotation, incidentally, from that same letter to the Corinthians in which he denounced hero worship! Paul told them, in effect, "If you want to follow something, then follow me in the way I follow Christ. Don't just follow me. See the way I follow Christ and get behind that! That way we shall all be together following the same thing."

Thankfully, in every generation there have been those who set an example of following Christ well worth following. But even with these we should never be so trusting as to lose the ability to think and study for ourselves.

To keep your 'hero worship' in perspective, follow Paul's golden rule: follow the other person's good example of following Christ rather than the person for himself or herself. This effectively demolishes all the wrong reasons for following, and acts as a guard against the sort of contests that went on at Corinth. Let's do our best to keep the Corinthian games out of our places of worship.

Emulations (zelos)—"Not according to knowledge"

Emulations is an unlikely word to find in a list of works of the flesh. Why?—because it's the Greek word zelos, meaning zeal. How can it be wrong to have zeal? Zeal is enthusiasm, commitment, eagerness, passion, a burning desire to get things done or defend what you have. So how can it be wrong?

Normally it isn't. In his second letter to them, Paul praised the Corinthians for it, twice (2 Cor.7:11 & 9:2), and he praised Epaphras for his. Generally speaking it's good to be zealous. Finding it among the works of the flesh tells us there must be another side to it. There is.

When Paul wrote to the Galatian believers he singled out for censure a group who were zealously affecting the church, but in a bad way (Gal.4:17). They were still hung up on the Old Testament Law of Moses. They wanted Christ, but they didn't want to let go of some of the rituals of the Law, like circumcision. They couldn't cope with freedom from the Law they'd known so long. They were like an old, long-stay prisoner who can't cope with life on the outside. God had given them a better New Covenant in Christ, but they hankered for the familiarity of the Old.

This group at Galatia were zealous for the wrong things. Their enthusiasm was infectious, and dangerous, leading the church away from the Truth. So Paul warned: "It is good to be zealously affected always in a good thing...." Zeal is not good unless it is zeal over something good. Great enthusiasm, like deep sincerity, does not make something right. How easy it is to get carried away over an idea, especially the enthusiastically broadcast ideas of others, and forget to check the validity of what they are so excited about. The Jews of Paul's day, as he said, had "a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge" (Rom 10:2).

However wonderful it may seem, it is nevertheless a work of the flesh to be carried away by anything other than the Truth. Some wonderful new concept of how to worship God, filled with great gusts of emotion, song and dance, and melon-quarter smiles, will be nothing more than a work of the flesh if it ignores God's own pre-requisites for worship: spirit and truth. How good it makes us feel is not always the best indicator of how correct it is! Zeal isn't truth, and it doesn't validate anything we care to attach to it. A huge emotional investment, with very little understanding of the Word to back it, will lead to spiritual ruin.

Zeal is also sometimes a sign of spiritual immaturity. All too often we have seen someone begin the new life in Christ with portentous enthusiasm only to fall by the wayside in a few years. It's another form of zeal that is "not according to knowledge". Learners in the Faith can quickly experience spiritual burn-out trying to maintain a constant religious high. They believe this is how they ought to feel. They rush around, and burn up a lot of energy—and more energy still trying to get others to rush around as much as they are! It seems so right, so committed, that they don't recognise it as good old-fashioned legalism. They push themselves because they feel they must, and probably blame God when they finally can't cope.

If you ever see yourself going down this road, put the brakes on fast. Such people are described in the parable of the sower as those who, "when they hear, receive the word with joy; and these have no root, which for a while believe, and in time of temptation fall away" (Luke 8:13). Because they live in an unreal world of their own creation, they are not ready for the reality of hard knocks. Their zeal is not sustainable; it's only good when things are going well. Little by little the essential trials of faith begin to produce all the wrong responses. A more realistic (Biblical!) understanding would have told them that life—even in the Truth—can never be lived in a state of perpetual elation. Even an incurable positive thinker like me has to face that!

The joy which is a part of the fruit of the Spirit is a warm glow of certainty at the very heart of your being that comes from your meditation on the Word and tells you that you can survive all the buffeting in the world. It's not a shallow hyped-up excitation of the emotions. As the proverb says: "If thou faint in the day of adversity, thy strength is small" (Prov.24:10).

As a footnote to zelos, I should mention that in some versions (e.g. RSV, NIV, NKJV.) zelos is translated in Galatians 5:20 as jealousy. In fact our English word jealous has its roots in the Latin zelos (pronounced zelus), which is a distant cousin of the Greek zelos.

The meanings of zealous and jealous are very close. If you have zeal over something you may also be jealous over it—want to guard it closely. You can be equally jealous and zealous of your rights and honour, if you have a mind to be. Paul wrote to the Corinthians that he was "jealous over [them] with godly jealousy" (2 Cor.11:2). But he didn't mean that he was envious of them (or that God was sometimes envious of anybody!). He meant that he cared a great deal for them. He was concerned and protective for the best of reasons: he loved them.

But jealousy is better known for its darker side. Loving concern can become twisted out of shape by self-interest and insecurity. It becomes deformed and turns into the green-eyed monster. This has nothing to do with "Godly jealousy"; this is fleshly jealousy. And what a cause of strife it can be!

As zelos appears in Galatians 5 without a context to define it, the word could have any or all of the connotations given it here. Most likely all of them. It's not rare for a word to have a number of meanings. Such a feature adds to the richness of Biblical allusion.

What a shame that we have this tendency to distort good things like zeal and Godly jealousy. It's probably true to say that everything that is wrong with us is a distortion of something that could be right with us if only we applied it correctly.

Wrath (thumos)—Slow anger (without the slow)

Remember makrothumia? the Greek for longsuffering? In chapter Nine we saw that makrothumia is two words joined together, makro and thumeo, literally slow anger. Thumos is the back end of makrothumia: it's the anger without the slow.

Thumos is generally anger that is expressed in harmful ways, usually physical and verbal abuse. It's the form of anger that caused a posse of synagogue authorities in Nazareth to throw Jesus out of their synagogue and then proceed to a clifftop to throw him down! (Luke 4:28,29).

It's the kind of anger that made Pharaoh send an army after Moses and the Israelites when they fled Egypt (Heb.11:27). It's the anger that caused Demetrius and his fellow makers of metal gods at the town of Ephesus to lay hands on Gaius and Aristarchus, Paul's travelling companions, and then try to have Paul himself set upon by the mob that gathered (Acts 19:28). On all these occasions, the word thumos appears in the text.

In all these cases it's apparent that thumos is the sort of anger that surfaces when people feel threatened. It occurs when self-sufficiency is under attack. It would occur only rarely if more people knew how to place their trust in God.

Imagine how different history would have been if Pharaoh had not worried about the sudden dearth of slaves in his country; if he'd not been greatly concerned at the blow to progress on his building projects; if he'd not considered the departure of the Israelites such a blow to his pride. Imagine if Pharaoh had readily agreed to Moses' request to let his people go. We'd probably be reading of the ten blessings upon Egypt rather than the ten plagues.

And what if the people of Nazareth had not reacted with predictable scorn to a 'prophet from their own country'? How warmly the notion of being a Nazarene might have passed down the centuries. The name could have become a byword for all those who honoured their successful neighbours.

And what if Demetrius had seen the light and given up casting metal gods for a living in order to worship the true, living God? What a force for good a man of his forthrightness might have been in the early church! What good he could have done! Even if at first his livelihood had suffered, he'd not have been left destitute, as he feared. He'd have wound up a lot better off in more ways than just his pocket.

But alas, they were all small-minded men who believed they had to protect their own interests: Pharaoh his reputation, the Nazarene authorities their 'good' name, and Demetrius and his fellows their livelihoods.

It would be pleasant to think that believers never felt so threatened in the ordinary course of events to resort to verbal or physical abuse. But experience tells us differently. Generally, though, we are inclined to give vent to aggression in more subtle ways. Keeping up appearances again! We may speak sharply, or write the 'stiff' letter, or pass someone over for a good turn we could have done them, because their words or actions were threatening to us, or appeared to be. The aggression may not be obvious but it's still aggression. And we are apt to compound the felony by justifying it. "They jolly well deserve it."

What do we deserve, I sometimes wonder?

Strife (eritheia)—Selfish ambition

The foulness of eritheia is selfish ambition. It's the strife provoked by those who want to climb the ladder of success at almost any cost. Even if the ladder is against the wrong wall—which it usually is.

Not that ambition itself isn't a good thing. It's good for us to have goals and aspirations for this life and the next. There are few people more listless, and more joyless to be with than those who have no purpose. They seem to have switched life off at the mains. Ambition gets us fired up, gives us direction.

But there are two things (at least) which can go wrong. One is to be ambitious over the wrong things. The other is to have the wrong motives behind your ambition. Bring the two together and you really have a problem!

Eritheia is more connected with wrong motives. Often it's the perennial problem of doing the right thing for the wrong reasons. Sometimes we are so devious with ourselves that it's difficult to catch ourselves at it! Those familiar words from Jeremiah say it all: "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?" We often don't even know it ourselves. Or we don't care to admit to ourselves that we know what's going on in our own heart.

Delight and meditation in the Word is the only way to find out. "For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit [who we are and what we think?], and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart" (Heb.4:12 NKJV).

In addition to confessing our sins, it can be helpful now and then to ask for help to know what they are. Follow the lead of the Psalmist in Psalm 139:23,24, when he prayed: "Search me, O God, and know my heart: try me and know my thoughts: and see if there be any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." A prayer like that will surely be answered. The answer may come through our attention to the Word: we may come across exactly the information we need. Or events may conspire to tell us what we need to know about ourselves. It may be none too pleasant, perhaps, but instructive all the same.

Almost all human motives are mixed. Even the purest can have a few grains of selfishness in them. A genuine altruist is a rare animal. You may have more hope of finding a dodo. We can't help mixing a little selfishness in whatever we do. But perhaps that's not such a bad thing. Even the disciples of Jesus are on record for asking "What's in it for us?" "Then answered Peter and said unto him [Jesus], Behold, we have forsaken all, and followed thee; what shall we have therefore?" (Matt.19:27). Jesus didn't reproach them for it; he simply told them what they had to look forward to. It's risky to argue a case from silence, I know, but that lack of a rebuke must tell us something!

An element of self-interest lies behind even our religious aspirations. If you doubt that, give yourself some honest answers to the question of why you want to be in the Kingdom of God. Honest ones, remember. Are you totally devoid of self-interest? Not even a smidgen? I doubt it. I'm certainly not.

It has been rightly observed that 'God-manifestation, not human salvation' is the purpose of God. Your salvation and mine are not the supreme elements in God's plan. Yet that's how we think of it, I'm sure, most of the time. Ideally, we should view our personal salvation as an opportunity to become the perfect embodiment of God's love, a small reflection of Him, so that at last we will be able to give Him that pleasure in His Creation for which He designed us. I doubt if we generally see salvation in those terms. How many believers could put their hand on their heart and say that's why they were baptised?—to give glory to God? Most of us see salvation in terms of our own escape from the grave.

Why is the Truth never preached from the point of view of God-manifestation? Why is the appeal to the unbeliever always made on the basis of 'believe and be baptised for eternal life'? It's not hard to answer. It's done that way because that's the hook that catches the fish. It's apparent that God expects a certain amount of self-interest to play a part in our ambition to be in His Kingdom. Is the reason for this, I wonder, because to be totally lacking in self-interest suggests, not so much a high spirituality, but a low self-worth? I believe that in part we are expected to want immortality for ourselves, not only so that we can manifest God in ourselves in the Kingdom.

I know we are to 'lose' our life for Christ so that we may 'find' it (Matt.10:39): meaning we surrender our will to him to obtain a better spiritual life leading to eternal life—but even that act of surrender is not without a dash of self-interest. Else why surrender in the first place? What's in it for you? This is not cynicism, it's realism.

However, the gradual development of the spiritual nature, as we coax the fruit of the Spirit into existence, will lessen the self-interest we have in the fulfilment of God's plan for this world. The production of the fruit will help us turn our attention away from what we want for ourselves to what we want to be for God. But only the arrival of the Kingdom will see all traces of self-interest erased from our character.

If God uses our self-interest to attract us to His Kingdom, it can't be all bad. But again the problem is that we misuse a quality which is meant to work in our favour. Instead of aspiring to the Kingdom of God, we aspire to petty things like recognition among our fellows. And that brings strife. We want more recognition than we have, and more things than we have. So we plot and scheme how to get them.

All community situations are spawning grounds for this kind of strife. Religious communities are no exception. Wanting to be a somebody is as much a pitfall here as anywhere. If you feel the urge to run your church, then best forget it—or at least hold back and try digging for your motives. We should even beware our motives for being keen Bible students—and especially good platform speakers. Why do we want to do it? Is it because we delight and meditate in the Word and we simply want to enjoy communicating our delight and our findings? Or does the idea of appearing spiritually intelligent appeal to our vanity? Do we fancy the sound of our own voice?

Every student, speaker, writer on Bible matters needs regular self-assessments. It's wonderful to have people say, "That was a good talk you gave," or "I did enjoy that article of yours." And it's right that praise should be given where it's due. But if that's the carrot, then you'd be well advised to give it up. Better still, rethink your motives. What point is there in being helpful to others and corrupting yourself in the process?

The best barometer I know (from experience) for determining motive in most things is how well you take criticism. If instead of "That was a splendid talk", you get "Surely you got the wrong end of the stick"—how do you take it? This test rarely fails. If you feel hurt and defensive, it's a sure sign your ego was riding on what you were saying. Bad motives ahoy! If you do it for the 'applause', you're going to have difficulty with the "boos". And "boos" there will always be. You'll be doing the right thing for the wrong reason—and that wrong reason will most likely be eritheia: selfish ambition.

Paul wrote to Timothy: "If a man desire the office of a bishop, he desireth a good work" (1 Tim.3:1), and to the Corinthians: "Covet earnestly the best gifts" (1 Cor.12:31). There is a place for ambition. There's nothing wrong, either, in feeling pleased about a little praise. We all need some encouragement now and then. But if we need the praise, and we're irritated when it doesn't come, and when criticism comes instead, then beware the seeds of selfish ambition. You may be trying to make a name for yourself. Spiritually it will be spelt M U D.

Seditions (dichostasia)—Two places to stand

We came across 'stasis' when talking about faith in Chapter 12. It means 'a place to stand'. When you add dicho, which means two (as in dichotomy), you have the word dichostasia, and you have two places to stand. Dichostasia happens when you stand apart in your own place away from where others are standing. Have you ever played the children's party game islands, where you put squares of paper on the floor and each stand on one when the music stops? Well, that's a version of dichostasia. The grown-up children's version is known as divisions or factions.

Religious groups are notoriously good at dichostasia. They divide and sub-divide at regular intervals like amoebae. Unlike amoebae, religious groups rarely grow into two healthy units like the one from which they divided. They usually become smaller and weaker. Eventually some of them die. Sadly, those concerned are generally too busy promoting good reasons why they should separate to discover better reasons why they should not. But such are the works of the flesh.

The Scriptures don't condemn all divisions. Where there is heresy (the next work of the flesh), or serious and unresolved misconduct, those who insist on upholding Scriptural teaching and values must stand apart from the offenders and those who support them. But we have to be extremely careful about divisions. Those involved will always say it has to be done, and will claim the best of Scriptural motives, with many a supporting chapter and verse thrown in—and yet here is division listed as a work of the flesh! As with strife, we really do need to give close attention to our motives.

A division may have more to do with psychology than theology. What I mean is: it may have more (or as much) to do with the sort of people we are than what we believe. There are some personality types who need a fairly rigid framework within which to live and worship. For them formalism is a must; it's as much a part of the Truth as the Truth itself. Other believers have little need for formality: they see it as obstructing their approach to God. Between these two poles are the rest of us, believers of varying degrees of attachment and non-attachment to formality, according to the type of people we are.

Each group thinks the other ought to be more like them

I don't believe one group is superior to the other, is any more right than another. Which puts me in about the middle, I guess. There are learned theologians who dabble in something they call 'stage theory'. And these 'stage theorists' (who sound more like drama critics than theologians) haggle over how many stages of spirituality there are, and which manifestations of spirituality are higher on the scale. Professor James Fowler wrote a book called Stages of Faith in which he gave six levels of spiritual growth. He actually puts formal, institutional spirituality on a level below the non-formal. And he, like many of his ilk, including M. Scott Peck in his book Further along the Road Less Travelled, sees spiritual progress as a journey up through the levels from formality to non-formality and beyond.

But from the point of view of those who prefer formality, a move towards non-formality is a step down the ladder, not up!

While I do believe changes can occur during the life of a believer (I'm less attached to an organisational framework than I once was), I still hold that who we are has a lot to do with our preference or distaste for formality. Neither group is any higher up the spiritual ladder than the other. There can be as much high spirituality among the formal as the non-formal. The fruit of the Spirit is available to all, and is not the exclusive right of those who worship cross-legged on the floor or those who prefer to sit in straight rows of chairs.

I hate being negative, but I don't see a solution to the problem of differing psychological make-up among believ-ers. Don't get me wrong; I do know what the answer is. The answer is for both extremes to reach a higher spirituality and connect at that common level. The answer is for both groups, and all the shades in between who get caught in the crossfire, to develop more of the fruit of the Spirit and thereby learn how to exist in harmony.

But the problem of differing psychological make-up causes believers not to aspire to a common level of higher spirituality, but to develop reasons for separating. Event-ually something doctrinal will emerge upon which both groups can hang their differences and thereby go their own way. This is not entirely unpleasant for those at the far ends of the formal/non-formal scale. Each can be content that the other no longer blights their fellowship. For all those in the middle it's a disaster. Sometimes they are at a loss to know what has happened. Sometimes their very faith is shattered.

What may appear to be a perfectly Scriptural division may in fact have its roots deep in the psyche of the two parties; so it actually begins as a work of the flesh. At what point, I wonder, does it become right?

Believers are asked to "mark them which cause divisions [dichostasia] and offences contrary to the doctrine which ye have learned; and avoid them" (Rom.16:17). We must try to isolate propagators of division. Sometimes it can be done. A believer broadcasting dubious ideas can be asked officially to stop causing unrest, and be stood aside from if necessary. But we must remember that when Paul wrote to the Romans about "them which cause divisions", it was a time when false brethren were circulating in the churches stirring up trouble. These trouble-makers were no doubt in the pay of the Jewish religious authorities, who at the time were anxious to disrupt and destroy the fledgling Christianity. Anywhere one of these bogus Christians was spotted trying to stir up dichostasia he was to be isolated before he could damage the church. We don't have exactly the same problem today, but through the works of the flesh we still have dichostasia.

Heresies (hairesis)—Choosing your own 'truth'

Heresy is among the works of the flesh because it involves the vaunting of human choice and opinion above the Divine. It means moving away from what is true to what we prefer to be true. Only by the surrender of the self is truth rightly perceived. Only when we get our own preconceived and socially induced notions out of the way will Truth shine through. Though it has to be conceded that because our surrender is never absolute, no-one can lay claim to absolute truth. We each cast our own shadow over the light of God's perfect revelation. May that thought keep us humble when we discuss what we believe.

I'm not suggesting that we cannot discern the essential gospel from God's Word: "the things concerning the kingdom of God, and the name of Jesus Christ" (Acts 8:12). That would be nonsense. God would not give us a gospel we could never hope to understand. Nor would Paul have been able so roundly to condemn anyone who taught any other gospel (Gal.1:8) if the true version was unfathomable!

There is a core of indisputable gospel truth. Outside that core, however, can be uncharted waters for many a Bible student. That's one of the things that make Bible exploration such an enthralling occupation. But it can also lead us into the folly of making pronouncements about parts of Scripture that are way off beam, and yet over which we become immovable.

I have two somewhat contradictory emotions about people who are absolutely cast-iron certain about their interpretation of some of the backwaters of Scripture. On the one hand I envy them their certainty. On the other hand that certainty frightens me. I would dearly love to be that confident about various prophecies and other things, but I would also hate to be so rigid that I closed my mind to other possibilities—and closed it to something that turned out to be the truth! I don't believe that an open-minded approach to topics outside first principles is wishy-washy, lacking in conviction, but that it is an approach which makes Bible study all the more stimulating. One should be alive to new possibilities all the while.

Of course, new possibilities should not conflict with the core gospel truth that we spoke of earlier. As somebody wisely said: "Keep your mind open, but don't let your brains fall out."

Differences over matters which fall outside core gospel truth are nowhere near as serious as those that fall within it. The latter are the true works of the flesh. These are the hairesis. They constitute a denial through choice of any of the elements of the core gospel.

Now I'm aware when I use the term 'core gospel' that I'm open to questions like: "What is the core gospel? Who decides what is essential belief and what isn't?" Well, we do, of course, from our reading of the Word. Again I say, God would not have given us a basic gospel we couldn't grasp. The major truths, or first principles, such as the nature of the Kingdom of God, the resurrection and the return of Christ are self-evident. They form the core. Other truths, like the origin and salvation (?) of angels, are less easily pinned down, and a proper understanding of them is not essential for salvation.

Disagreement about the meaning of a core gospel belief, a belief self-evidently vital for salvation (which if you don't have, you don't have the Truth), must involve heresy on one side or other. Both cannot be true, as they are almost certain to be mutually exclusive.

But why would any believer opt for a doctrine that isn't true? Why would someone reading in the Bible that "the dead know not anything" (Ecc.9:5) decide that the Bible teaches the survival of the soul? Probably because they are not reading the Bible, but taking their 'truth' from somewhere or someone else. They may prefer to believe something cosier than extinction at death. I don't specially like the idea myself! They don't notice that the Bible teaches resurrection and judgement en masse for believers, and not a swift transition to heaven. And where does the idea of heaven-going come from, anyway? If the meek are going to inherit the earth, does that mean meekness will make you a second-class citizen of the future?!

Why would any believer opt for a doctrine that is not true? The answer is hairesis. People make their own choices about what they believe instead of sorting out for themselves what is true. They mix human and Divine thinking. Generally people prefer a softer religion and a softer God to those presented in the Bible. They want a religion and a God that will leave them alone to do pretty much what they want, and then give them eternal bliss as their reward for doing it! This is the way of heresy. It's not a fruit of the Spirit; it's a work of the flesh. Truly God is good—He has all the aspects of the fruit of the Spirit, but also, "God is not mocked; for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting" (Gal.6:7).

Envyings (phthonos)—Wanting a less than perfect life

At the trial of Jesus, Pontius Pilate was wrong about many things, but he was absolutely on target about one thing. "He knew that for envy they [the religious authorities] had delivered him [Jesus]" (Matt.27:18).

The Jewish religious leaders of the day envied Jesus. More than they feared him or hated him, or pretended to despise him, they envied him. More than anything else, it was this deep-seated envy that led them to engineer his crucifixion.

What caused them to envy him so much? They had the positions of authority in the land. They had the comfortable lifestyle. They had all the learning and power. So why envy this 'carpenter's son' from Nazareth? What did he have that they didn't?

To begin with, the common people "were astonished at his doctrine, for he taught them as one that had authority, and not as the scribes" (Mark 1:22). Jesus was a far more informed teacher of God's Word than any of the learned men of his day. But those learned men, instead of taking their cue from the common people and listening to what he taught, they resented him. They saw him undermining their influence with the people as teachers of the Law.

Added to this, Jesus went about doing miracles of healing. Great crowds followed him sometimes as he moved about the country. The authorities could perform no miracles. All they could do was try and discredit his. They tried to discredit him as a teacher, too, by asking trick questions in front of the people. Infuriatingly for them, he always had a powerful answer, and their questions only served to amplify their own ignorance before the people.

You would think that, seeing the miracles, hearing him teach, hearing the answers he gave to their questions, and confronting the man himself, they would begin to reason that perhaps this man was someone extraordinary after all. Maybe he was who he said he was. But the works of the flesh got the better of them. Most of them never got beyond envy to appreciate who Christ truly was. They blinded themselves, didn't want to know. They envied his ability as a teacher and his popularity with the people. And because they couldn't best him as a teacher, they set about destroying his popularity.

They wanted him out of the way. They used all their sway with the people to discredit him. One can detect in the narrative of the New Testament that they were increasingly successful at this. When Jesus asked his disciples, "Whom do men say that I am?" (Mark 8:27), not one of them answered that the people were saying he was the Son of God, the promised Messiah. He was hailed only as a prophet from God. That must have saddened Jesus. The religious authorities were getting to the people, taking advantage of the regard in which they were traditionally held. The leaders also had power to excommunicate from the synagogue any who were too zealous for this 'self-styled Messiah', as they no doubt referred to him. Their jealousy, their envy, knew no bounds, leading them ultimately to the excess of the judicial murder of an innocent man. They could not bear the success of Jesus.

Why is it that we find it so difficult to rejoice in the success of others? We have an instinct for envy, an inborn desire to pull down the successful. James wrote, "Do ye think that the scripture saith in vain, The spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to envy?" (Jas.4:5). We naturally envy others. It's a work of the flesh of which we are made.

Incidentally, you won't find the quotation James appears to be making anywhere in the Scriptures. There is no verse that actually says, "The spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to envy." James didn't mean us to understand it as a direct quotation. If I said the Bible says we should read the Word of God to understand the meaning of life, that would be true, but there's no verse which literally says, "we should read the Word of God to understand the meaning of life." However, I could bring together a few verses which mean that. And so it is with what James said. The Scriptures don't tell us for nothing that there is within each one of us a natural spirit of envy.

Those to whom James wrote had "bitter envying and strife in [their] hearts" which he condemned as "earthly, sensual, devilish" (Jas.3:14,15). It certainly wasn't heavenly, spiritual and Godly! James told them the wisdom they needed from above was "full of mercy and good fruits" (v17), a comment which The Authorised Version translators are absolutely spot on, in their marginal note, to relate to Gal.5:22: the fruit of the Spirit.

That's exactly what they required. Those to whom James wrote were having a particular problem with envy. It was the problem of hostility between the 'haves' and the 'have nots'. Material differences have been a source of envy that has plagued every generation of believers. An imbalance of riches nearly always produces strife.

But the division between 'haves' and 'have nots' is purely man-made. It has no bearing at all on the way God divides up society. When He sees sheep and goats, He takes no account of the socio-economics of their situation. God is not the least impressed by what anyone has materially. In reality, nobody has anything: it's all on loan. We came into the world with nothing and we go out of it with nothing. When you die you will leave behind exactly the same as billionaire Howard Hughes left—everything! You will need no pockets in the last suit you wear.

If God isn't impressed with material status, neither should Godly people be impressed with it. But it isn't easy. We have that old spirit of envy in us. We envy the better house, car, garden, job, income, education... and so on. The list even includes spiritual things like better expounders of the Word, or more courageous and successful preachers, or those with more senior positions at the church. If all this 'spiritual' envying acts as the catalyst for improving ourselves and the quality of our collective service to the Lord, then fine, let's envy some more! But a more likely outcome is resentment, a "Who does he think he is?" mentality. And that stunts spiritual growth.

Of course the problem is not always solely the fault of the less well-off. A responsibility rests with the 'haves' not to flaunt their possessions or talents and provoke the resentment of others. That, too, is a great temptation. Do you remember at the swimming baths, as a youngster, that there was no point diving off a high board if no-one was watching!

The very worst aspect of envy is that it can be a criticism of God. Sometimes when you envy you are, in effect, saying, "God, I should have that," when God hasn't seen fit to give it to you. We think we know better about what's good for us. We might even think we could serve God better if only we had more money, more free time, a bigger house... one like the Jones's. It's a wrong outlook. It's the sort of murmuring that God particularly dislikes. If you truly believe that "all things work together for good" for you, and you're generally doing what you can to please God, then whatever situation in life you have right now is perfect. You're right where you should be.

"Perfect!" did I hear somebody shout? "With my mortgage!" "With my redundancy!" "With my arthritis!" "With my ____________." You fill in the blank. Yes, perfect. If you believe that whatever you have in your life is what you most need from God to help form your character for the Kingdom of God (and it is), then what you have is perfect. A million pound windfall might seem a little more perfect than your current bank balance, but if your lack of funds makes you look to God and a windfall would make you look to the world, which is really better?

Wanting too much what you don't have, and what you enviously see other people have, has to be a form of criticism of God. We all do it. None of us is one hundred per cent spiritual. And even Jesus, who was that spiritual, would have preferred not to go through with the crucifixion. The gospel writers tell us he prayed in the garden of Gethsemane, "O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me." He didn't want to be crucified. Nobody in his right mind would. But when he knew it was God's will, he accepted that it must be endured.

Most people aren't expected to go that far. Most of us couldn't handle it, and no more is ever expected of any of us than we can handle. That being so, we arrive at the comforting fact that whatever we have in our lives we can handle—and whatever we don't have, we can handle that, too! Only the prompting of our fleshly nature makes us hanker overmuch after more and better. The spiritual mind directs us differently. To envy is, in fact, to want your life to be less than perfect. What you have now is right. Why spoil it?

This isn't to say that you shouldn't aspire to better things. There are hundreds of thousands of legitimate goals in this life (including the Kingdom of God). But it is to say that your wanting should be tempered by an acceptance of what is the Lord's will for you, so if your lack continues you don't become bitter. And your wanting should be without the ill-will of envy towards those who already have what you want. Perhaps, when you accept God's will for your life, and remove all envy, you will thereby remove the blocks to your own prosperity: the lessons will be learned and you can move on.

Footnote to the above

I appreciate that some of you reading this may have very serious problems in your life. To you what I've said may seem insensitive and unrealistic. How can your bereavement, you terminal illness (or your child's), your wrecked marriage, or your chronic loneliness or pain, be the will of God that you must accept uncomplainingly? Can God really want that for you? And you may be thinking that it's all right for me to offer glib answers when, as far as you know, I don't have your problems.

To these thoughts let me say that I do have problems, and I sometimes have difficulty seeing them as God's will for me, even though on a scale of one to ten they may barely rate a three. But I still believe what I've said about problems being God's will for us. However...

There are clearly stated Scriptural principles about God's dealings with us. But there are also differences in the way God allows people to respond to their circumstances. Rom. 8:28 tells us that "all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose." 1 Cor.10:13 tells us the God "will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it." These two verses taken together would seem to constitute a 'theory of everything' for living the Truth. But what do you do when "a way to escape" isn't obvious, or simply isn't there? What if your situation so distresses you that you find it hard to accept it as God's will and still love God? Are you wrong to want and pray for your situation to change? Is that a weakness of faith that makes you inferior to other believers and jeopardises your salvation? Absolutely not. We are only human; and God recognises that in His dealings with us. If you can't handle your situation it's not the end of the world. Probably a lot of people couldn't handle it if given it.

There are some cases in Scripture of people changing the will of God for themselves. Hezekiah didn't want his illness to be fatal and God reversed it for him. But Paul didn't want his "thorn in the flesh" and God said he'd have to keep it. Their prayers of 'complaint' were not wrong. Distress is not wrong! We can't all bear up with the same fortitude as Job. The thing to remember about Job is that he was an exceptionally spiritual man, head and shoulders above most people. I couldn't have handled his situation as well as he did. Few people could. But even he didn't suffer in silence.

Having said all that, how should you deal with a situation that you do not want, which you feel is not doing you any good, and which you find God does not want to change?—in fact, far from building you up, you feel it's adversely affecting your faith. All the kindly words of fellow believers are of little or no avail, well meant as they might be. "You've just got to have faith" only equals "pull yourself together", and isn't any help in these circumstances. You already know that! You've told yourself that a dozen times. You only wish you could do it. So where do you go from here? Is it hopeless?

Nothing is ever hopeless. There are solutions. You might like to consider those that follow. The first solution to consider is that you make a nuisance of yourself. What I mean is that you keep knocking on heaven's door. Okay, I know you've prayed and prayed about the problem, but you have to be relentless. I have the parable of the persistent widow in mind (Luke 18:1-8). That parable tells us that God wants us to keep knocking. Not because He likes to keep us waiting, but because it brings out our faith. It's often easier to despair than believe. God will answer, "though he bear long with them" (v.7), if we keep asking in the full assurance of faith. Christ's comment at the end of the parable suggests that real faith in the power of God in our lives is not so common but not unattainable, and he questions whether he'll find it when he returns: "Nevertheless when the Son of man cometh, shall he find faith on the earth?" (v.8). In addition to your own relentless praying, you should also get as many other believers as you can to pray for you or with you about the problem. The Apostle Paul knew the value and power of other people's prayers. In three of his letters he asked his readers to "pray for us", and on one occasion wrote, "for I trust that through your prayers I shall be given to you" (Phm.22). And he offered the same help to others: "making mention of thee always in my prayers" (Phm.4), and "without ceasing I make mention of you always in my prayers" (Rom.1:12).

Another solution is to praise and give thanks. It sounds a little radical, and seems like the wrong thing to do in the circumstances, but try it. Actually praise God and thank Him in the midst of your problem. It sounds crazy, I know, and it runs counter to all you feel like doing, but it has the support of scripture. David in the midst of cruel persecution said, "I will praise his word" (Psalm 56:4); and "my praise shall be continually of thee" and as things got worse he said, "I ... will yet praise thee more and more" (Psalm 71:6 & 14). And there in the recommendation from Paul: "In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you" (1 Thess.5:18). To which we should add his comments in 2 Cor.4, where in the midst of speaking of all his trials and difficulties he says, "that the abundance of grace through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God. For which cause we faint not..."(verses 15 & 16). And when you make your requests to God, your prayers and supplications should be "with thanksgiving" (Phil.4:6). To give thanks and praise signifies acceptance of the will of God and helps to chase away any rebellion and anger that might be in the heart. Therefore it helps to open the door of heaven to your cry.

If neither persistence nor thankfulness or anything else seems to be working to change your situation, then that may be because you are an exceptional person. God is saying no to you. Which means you are more of a saint than you give yourself credit for. You don't believe that you can handle what God has given you, but He does. You have seriously underestimated yourself. Please give due consideration to this, because it's an important point and I don't say it at all lightly. If God says that He "will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it", and you can see no way of escape after waiting and praying long for it, then the conclusion you must consider is that you are able to bear it.

You might also consider that you may be too self-absorbed to see that way of escape. Or your condition could be the illness of clinical depression for which you need treatment, as you would for any other illness. If simply reading the above suggestions depresses you, or you just cannot face the thought of even trying to put them to work for you then you must talk to someone qualified to help, preferably a fellow believer, one with counselling experience, someone who is not going to tell you merely "to have faith". In your case that is inappropriate. Sadly no one can wave a magic wand and put desperate situations right in an instant. How often I've wished it were so! But that's not to say that there is no answer to your problem, or, at least, no way of dealing with it that will satisfy you. Never stop believing that it's round the next corner.

Murder (phonos)—The culmination of strife

Strife starts in the heart. If it isn't resolved there by forgiveness, by calming it back, it may develop into verbal aggression, which can lead to physical aggression, which can lead to murder. Murder is the climax to which strife can lead. Or rather the depths to which it can sink.

Jesus made the point that strife must be dealt with in the heart before the awful progression can get started (Matt.5:21). The moment strife gets a foothold we are in danger of a capital offence. It's best to catch it early, not give houseroom to any brooding thought that might lead from anger to murder.

Simply put, murder is the deliberate and unlawful killing of another human being. It is any killing which God does not sanction. He is the Great Creator and Sustainer of life. All life emanates from him. Only He can take it away with impunity. We cannot. Those people of ancient Israel who were put to death as punishment under God's Law were not murdered. Neither were all those killed on the battlefield by the armies of Israel under God's direction.

"You shall not murder" (Ex.20:13 NKJV) was the sixth commandment under the Old Law given to Israel. The penalty was death. Under the New and better Covenant brought in by Christ there is no capital punishment. At least no immediate capital punishment. A believer who goes as far as murder is not without hope. He may have time and may be given grace to repent. If he does, the sin will not be laid against him at the judgement seat.

There will be no murderers in the Kingdom of God (Gal.5:21), or anyone who does any of the works of the flesh, come to that. But there will be forgiven murderers, forgiven idolaters, forgiven adulterers, drunkards, etc. To turn from sins—to repent—is to make those sins as if they never existed in the sight of God. His forgiveness is absolute.

There is a verse in James's letter which is usually mentioned when the subject is murder. This is no exception. James 4:2 gives the impression that the believers he wrote to were killing one another! "Ye lust, and have not: ye kill, and desire to have, and cannot obtain...." I somehow think that if they were really killing one another it would have been the subject of the whole letter!

The usual explanation for this reference to killing is to pass it off as hatred in the heart that by extension was murder. But that won't do. I believe the true answer is a simple copyist's error. At some time during the letter's journey through a succession of copyists, one of them wrote the word phoneuo (murder) instead of phthoneo, meaning envious. It makes far more sense to say, "ye are envious and desire to have." Only three verses on from there, James mentions that the "spirit that dwelleth in us lusteth to envy." I can't accept that believers were actually killing one another. But they were committing spiritual suicide with their envy and strife.

The Antidotes to Strife

The two aspects of the fruit of the Spirit which help ward off all the aspects of strife are longsuffering and gentleness. Longsuffering, remember, is being slow to anger and exercising forgiveness. Gentleness is the true kindness that comes through understanding others, and making allowance for them. This is briefly how these spiritual qualities react with the flesh.

Hatred: Where genuine kindness is coupled with a forgiving spirit, the weeds of hatred simply cannot flourish. They may spring up now and then, because we're only human, but they soon wither and die. Longsuffering and gentleness are first-class weedkillers.

Variance: The character in which longsuffering and kindness are developing will find increasingly less room for contention. Such a character would prefer to help another rather than compete.

Emulations: As for emulations, the believer who is cultivating kindness will be gracious and make allowance for others and not be dogmatic and domineering. He or she will be aware of others' sensibilities and not be the kind to bulldoze over them with inappropriate zeal.

Wrath: When you have makrothumeo you simply don't have thumos. With a touch of makro you slow down your instinctive fleshly response, and then you dissolve the wrath completely with a liberal helping of forgiveness.

Strife: Selfish ambition is reined-in by kindness. You have no wish to push your own wants in front of everyone else's needs when you have that sensitive aspect of the fruit.

Seditions: Again it's kindness for this one. The process of making allowance for people and seeking to understand how they tick is fatal to seditious behaviour. With this good quality you're not going to be looking for reasons to separate from others; you'll be looking for reasons to get closer to them. Of course, longsuffering helps also—it helps those who are not seditious themselves but who need the strength to bear with those who are. It stops you losing patience and being confrontational with those who are looking for another place to stand.

Heresies: Even the strife caused by heresies is treatable by kindness and longsuffering. These faculties help prevent a widening of the gap between ourselves and those whose beliefs differ. They prevent us from adding personal differences to doctrinal ones. So a channel of commun-ication is left open. Also, if we are trying to understand the other person's thinking, we may discover why they believe what they do. It may help to understand the psychology as well as the theology. Differences over the interpretations of parts of Scripture may well be secondary to the real issue of why they choose to see the verses that way. A little understanding is a lot more use, sometimes, than a whole lot of argument.

Envyings: Longsuffering helps remove any feelings of resentment we may feel towards those who have more than ourselves materially or spiritually. It also helps us deal with any real or imaginary off-hand treatment we might get from them. Through kindness we take pleasure in the success of others instead of envying them. Or we may be concerned about their success if it appears to be detrimental to their spiritual welfare. And kindness has the good effect of making us honestly sympathetic when successful people fail. When we have envy, we rub our hands together gleefully at the downfall of the better-off. It's called Schadenfreude. We English didn't have a word for it so we borrowed one from the Germans. Schaden (shame), Freude (joy)—together they mean to find joy in the shame of another. It's not a sentiment for believers. So if you have any Schadenfreude, kill it with kindness.

Murder: No need to say much here. It ought to be fairly obvious that kindness and longsuffering will keep us from murdering people! But these qualities from the fruit of the Spirit not only keep us from the extreme of murder, they help us overcome all the lesser aspects of strife long before they can ever lead to murder. Longsuffering and kindness strike at the roots, dealing with murder where Christ says it should be dealt with—in the heart.