Archive: Matching Our Walk with Our Talk

By Kenneth Cain Kinghorn

Kenneth Cain Kinghorn recently received a letter from a bishop of the United Methodist Church in which the bishop lamented the inconsistent lives of professing Christians. He invited Dr. Kinghorn—vice president-at-large of Asbury Theological Seminary—to respond to the theory that theological beliefs do not make much difference in peoples ethics and conduct. What follows is Dr. Kinghorn’s response to the bishop.

Your letter raises the important question of the relationship between one’s theology and one’s behavior. Ideally, of course, orthodoxy and holiness go hand in hand. But as you pointed out, the links between theology and ethics are not always consistent. You wrote that you had “about concluded that all our theological posturing about who is and who is not correct seems to have very little impact on personal holiness.” I certainly understand your disappointment.

I agree that some who make high claims of holiness do not always show honesty and integrity in their lives. In fairness, however, we must say that the theological left also produces its share of ethical disappointments. The lack of common courtesy surfaces all across the theological spectrum. (I am reminded of John Dryden’s evaluation of Jeremy Collier: “I will not say ‘The zeal of God’s house has eaten him up’; but I am sure it has devoured some part of his good manners and civility.”) We are saddened when moral and ethical inconsistencies appear in the church.

Theological imbalance may be part of the problem. Some sincere people contend that the best theology consists of the most narrow or the most broad position. In my thinking, the narrowest or the broadest theological position is seldom biblical. For instance, the narrowest theological stance that one could take regarding sanctification is to insist that God extracts original sin, as a dentist removes a rotten tooth, and the sanctified never sin. I knew one who held this view, and he objected to praying the Prayer of Confession in the liturgy for the Lord’s Supper. He said in my hearing, “I haven’t sinned in 17 years!”

The broadest interpretation of God’s grace, on the other hand, leads to universalism. I know those who interpret God’s love so expansively that they deny that Jesus Christ provides our only means of salvation. Consider a different example: The strongest position that one can take on God’s sovereignty would lead to a denial of free will and a belief in double predestination, either to salvation or damnation. Let me reiterate: the most extreme view on any theological issue is seldom correct, whether conservative or liberal, the most narrow or most broad. Theological extremes usually distort the truth.

I was interested in your comment, “I was never able to make much connection between personal holiness and where a person happened to be on the theological continuum.” In my view, we sometimes measure sanctity by the wrong canons. I am sure that you would agree that good manners, intellectual achievement, and tolerance—while admirable qualities—do not spell Christian holiness. Some of the most tolerant church leaders that I know hold views repeatedly rejected by the ancient creeds and councils of Christendom. Recently I heard one of your colleagues say that it is “not loving” for Christians to pronounce Buddhism wrong or to seek the conversion of a Muslim to Christianity. I regard the notion of unlimited tolerance as not loving—if Jesus was who he claimed to be and if Scripture is trustworthy in what it teaches. We cannot confuse tolerance with holiness.

C.S. Lewis contended, in his Reflections on the Psalms, that tolerance often stems from a lack of profound convictions about religion. Some within our church have a greater interest in what seems “lovingly inclusive” than in what Scripture clearly teaches. As I see it, a homosexual, whose disclosed behavior creates scandal, harms the Christian cause less than a seminary professor or prominent church leader who lobbies for United Methodism to accept homosexual behavior as a valid expression of sexual love.

Some in the church confuse holiness with good manners and intellectual acumen. Many 19th-century American church members praised the lectures of Ralph Waldo Emerson, and some clergy invited him into their pulpits, although most confessed that they could not understand much of what he said. With winsomeness and compelling intellect, he spread his mystical idealism throughout the churches. Of course, he uttered some truisms. Yet his religion of transcendentalism contradicted Christianity at every vital point. There are some who excel in tolerance, wit, and intellect, whose theology is pernicious and destructive.

As you point out, there are those who hold unorthodox theological opinions and yet who live more sacrificially than their orthodox critics. I think, for example, of Albert Schweitzer who left careers in medicine and music to do charitable work in Africa. I contend that, despite his sacrificial labors, his Christology was completely unacceptable. His ministry does not erase his defective Christology and poverty of Christian doctrine. His was a ministry of practical deeds, devoid of theological specifics. Christianity could not long survive on that sort of fare.

Over the years, I have observed a theological herd instinct that causes some to praise currently popular theologians, even when their views supplant the doctrinal standards of the church to which they subscribed at their ordination. One can always find a parade of admirers lined up behind theologians who introduce doctrinal and ethical innovations. It is not uncommon to meet people who seem to think that the more difficult it is to understand a theologian, the more profound the theologian must be. Others are impressed with theological innovation. Apparently some regard the most outlandish view as the most “courageous.” I hold to the time-honored truism articulated by Princeton’s Charles Hodge: If a doctrine is new it isn’t true, and if its true it isn’t new.

You mentioned Paul Tillich. He said in his Systematic Theology (Vol. I, 205) “God does not exist. … To argue that God exists is to deny him.” I can’t make sense out of that view, any more than I can understand someone saying, “To argue that my wife exists is to deny her,” a formula Tillich applied to God. How could Abraham Lincoln have being if he did not exist? Of course, Tillich said some interesting things, and he said them with phrase-making elegance. Nevertheless, I cannot accept any theology as being Christian when it rejects Christ’s resurrection and the doctrines of heaven and hell—to say nothing of denying God’s existence. Not every theologian who attracts a train of admirers writes Christian theology.

The principle point of your letter was that some orthodox Christians do not live up to their theology. This reality continues to perplex and grieve us both. Martin Luther, too, agonized over certain religious leaders whose morals failed to square with what they taught. Jesus wept over Jerusalem because the theologically orthodox Pharisees placed their self-serving agendas before the love or service of God. Never mind their high claims of holiness—primarily, they loved cash and control.

To this day, some people use theological orthodoxy as a means by which to gain material assets and acquire power. I suspect that those you mentioned belong in this category. They lusted for money and power. They may not have started their Christian journey as double-minded disciples; yet somewhere along the line, secular tares choked the good seed.

A variation of this theme surfaces in the lives of some who give unconditional allegiance to an institution. Some folks permit religious organizations to take precedence over everything—even truth, people, ministry, and God. I would argue that the best church members put Jesus Christ ahead of all else, including the religious system with which they have affiliated. It seems, however, that some who are not serious about holiness of heart and life enjoy being around those who are. They find it gratifying to associate with committed Christians who genuinely put the needs of neighbors ahead of personal needs. These camp followers give a bad name to the good people in whose territory they lodge.

Despite exceptions to the contrary, it has been my observation that balanced Christian orthodoxy produces the best examples of Christian character. I know several Christian saints. They all hold orthodox theological views. I contend that orthodoxy also produces the lion’s share of enduring Christian ministry. Personally, I do not know any “secular saints” or “holy heretics.”

I recently spoke with a friend who had just returned from a meeting of the Christian Management Institute (CMI). This organization consists of 3,300 Christian organizations, all holding orthodox theological views. The CMI includes some of the most respected and effective ministries in the world. My friend reported that he was surprised at the vast number of ministries to the homeless carried on by the member groups. They say little about their social work, but their ministries to soul and body are astonishingly impressive. It’s important to recognize that orthodox religion at its best does more than talk about the need for ministry. Orthodox congregations and organizations can and do carry on remarkable social ministries.

The inconsistent correlation between people’s theologies and their moral lives remains a conundrum to me. God alone will unravel the mystery in his own good time. Yet, I think we can make some headway in our efforts to change things for the better. The formula has not altered since apostolic days: we must unite right thinking and right living. Nothing substitutes for a long obedience in the same direction, provided the Bible informs the way. Your letter encourages me to strive to stay close to Scripture and, as Bishop Stephen Neil would have said it, “to live Christianly.”

Kenneth Cain Kinghorn is vice president-at-large of Asbury Seminary in Wilmore, Kentucky. He is an ordained UM minister and an author of numerous books, the most recent being The Gospel of Grace (Abingdon, 1992).