The “alleylon” (one another) passages in the New Testament, Part 3:

Do not judge each other (Rom. 14:13)

One of the hot-button topics of modern cultural discourse is diversity, aka inclusivity, aka identity politics. What you call it probably somewhat depends on what you think of it. My own opinion is that there’s quite a bit of positive attached to movements that break down barriers and provide access and opportunity for people irrespective of their social or economic status. And, as far as I can tell, God agrees, at least in principle: The coming of his kingdom includes such radical expressions as Col. 3:11, “In this new life, it doesn’t matter if you are a Jew or a Gentile, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbaric, uncivilized, slave, or free; Christ is all that matters, and he lives in all of us,” along with the vision of “a vast crowd, too great to count, from every nation and tribe and people and language … ” (Rev. 7:9).

So it turns out that what today’s secular people aspire to is a reflection of God’s own universal (but not universalist) purpose. For my part, I think we can put a lot more stock and faith in the Lord being able to accomplish his ends, rather than humans attaining theirs. But the challenges for each are very much the same. If we pay attention to the news feeds, it’s pretty clear that the non-Christian plan goes off track in many ways. Over time, people tend to separate into their affinity groups, with occasional unity bright spots that generally burn out after some short period of time.

The question is, do Jesus’ disciples produce any better or more lasting fruit? The old indictment says that “Sunday morning is the most segregated hour in America.” And the divisions are not simply racial. Some time ago I was the pastor of a church in suburban New York City. We had a decent mix of Caucasians, Caribbean islanders, and representatives of other ethnicities. At a certain point, the congregation began to grow, and the influx of newcomers included larger numbers of people whom the old-timers shunned, disapproved of, and clucked their collective tongues at. What was their sin? They were not as socio-economically well-provisioned as members of the prior generations were.

A twenty-first century problem? From the unfortunate testimony of Scripture and Christian history, the answer is very clearly, “no.” Even the earliest believers, mere decades removed from the earthly sojourn of the Messiah, suffered the plague of division into homogeneous groupings, which include everything from allegiance to a particular leader to differences in dietary proscriptions to attitudes about marriage and celibacy. The deepest and most consequential damage occurred through the growing separation of Jewish and gentile believers in Jesus, the “two who had been made into one” through the death and resurrection of Christ. Whatever the emblems of differentiation, every fracture in the church is a blow to the intention of Jesus’ prayer in John’s Gospel that his disciples would express the same singular peace that governs the relationships of God’s triunity itself.

The New Testament authors regularly push back against the churches’ tendencies to fragment. Several of Paul’s writings display a special keenness to promote unity among believers. One passage that stands out is a set of verses from chapters fourteen and fifteen of his Letter to the Romans. The Roman church was a typical urban congregation – a cosmopolitan blend of disciples from varied backgrounds – which meant that they needed to give special attention to the centripetal forces that threatened their ability to live and serve together. But whether urban, rural, or in between, Paul’s profound discussion of differences among Jesus’ disciples and his prescription for preventing schism sickness are relevant for any church with more than one member.

Paul begins his exhortation with a caution: Don’t get caught up in quarrels about disputable matters. Rome, we have a problem. Christian history and Paul himself teach that there are some questions about which there is no give and take. There are beliefs about the doctrine of God, about morality, about relationships, about how human beings become part of God’s kingdom, about how to live in the world without being worldly. There are two challenges when such issues are in play. The first is not to make indisputable truths disputable. Jesus is the incarnate Son of God; sex is for married couples, one man and one woman; you and I are adopted children of God through no merit or work of our own; Christians are to generously love each other and for the world. These are not mere suggestions, but foundational realities for every generation.

The second challenge is not to make disputable issues into indisputable truths. When Christians make this mistake, they inevitably gather into opposite camps (e.g. Paul’s discussion of the strong and the weak – those who have a robust conscience about certain debatable things, and those who are more fastidious and scrupulous about such things) who engage in judging and holding each other in contempt. What does this judgment look like? I see at least three specific manifestations: First, a group defines itself as “other” based on a particular belief, preference, or practice. This creates isolation, defensiveness, and suspicion. Second, it personalizes differences so that the issue at hand is no longer thought of objectively. Now the parties can raise every controversy or disagreement to the level of a moral, spiritual, or psychological deficiency. Third, it makes the belief or practice a definitive mark of true or at least better Christianity. God is on our side.

Think of how far this can go. Human beings express diversity in countless ways: temperament, ethnicity, family background, giftedness, education, physical stature, economic status and even the ability to prosper financially. We have the poor and the wealthy, the fair and the homely, the lovers of organ music and the aficionados of searing guitar solos, the vegans who recoil at a slab of beautifully marbled beef and the omnivores who live for their daily Twinkie. Every one of these distinctives is either a potential breeding ground for one more  or fertile soil for denying the devil’s plan to divide and conquer.

I said earlier that Paul’s letter proposes a prescription for preventing schism sickness. The remedy contains certain cautions against the consequences of judgment while, at the same time, giving us hope that we can see and understand our brothers and sisters from God’s perspective. I see at least five parts to Paul’s anti-divisiveness formula:

#1. The Father has accepted and welcomed every believer as his own (v. 3), regardless of his, her, or our foibles, frailties, peculiarities, or infirmities. For some strange reason, God is not nearly as annoyed at these flaws as we are, and even appears to be attracted to them. Most gallingly, he calls us to recognize that we are equally – that is infinitely – far from him in ourselves, and equally – that is intimately – loved and brought near to him in his mercy. From his point of view, when we encounter those seemingly very different fellow-saints, we are in the presence of earthen vessels undergoing a mysterious transformation from one degree of glory to the next; people who share the same destiny of eternal beauty. Maybe I’ll try on this vision the next time I run into the temptation to judge or belittle one of God’s own.

#2. Despite what we see as fatal flaws in our brothers and sisters, Paul emphatically declares that the Lord is able to make each of his servants stand (v. 4). We have neither the call nor the authority to determine or judge the outcome of anyone else’s discipleship narrative. I find myself all too ready to operate like a Christian yearbook writer, putting people in their categories and spelling out my expectations for them: “Most (or probably least) likely to succeed.” We even have our equivalent of high school cliques, 

#3. To set ourselves above a brother or sister is to set ourselves above the Lord himself. Again, Paul is adamant in his denunciation of our attitudes: “Who are you to judge?” And not only do we put God’s work under our scrutiny, we threaten to destroy his greater purpose, which is the peace and unity of his people (vv. 19-20). Put in this light, our sense of superiority and insistence on our rightness – and others’ wrongness – becomes rather a fearful thing that should give us serious concern at the possibility of ourselves coming under divine judgment. We should heed Paul’s, and all of Scripture’s, prophetic call to repentance: Do not hold your brother or sister in contempt.

#4. The antidote to our divisive judgment comes to us in Jesus taking on himself our curse (Rom. 15:3). Jesus’ endurance of the cross’ chastisement and humiliation opens for us grace to accept each other, to endure with each other, to hope in the expectation of God’s best for each other. The power of Jesus’ death and resurrection smooths out the edges of the differences that otherwise bother and separate us. What I mean by this is that the diversity of the body becomes a source of blessing and completion because God applies his ability to use every personality, every individual characteristic, every temperament and personal predilection for his own purposes, which is …

… #5. To live in this gracious and humble peace is to attain our true end, which is the joyful and hopeful worship of God (Rom. 15:5-7). Instead of stumbling blocks, our differences become building blocks that fit together for the glory of the Trinity, and that express his own loving unity. Putting aside judgment and accepting each other as Christ has welcomed us causes the church to display God’s nature in us for the sake of a world that hungers for wholeness.

A lofty calling to which he is more than equal.