Tuesday, November 21, 2023

PREFERENCES: When Christians Disagree


Respected pastor and author, John Piper, caused a minor firestorm when he posted a question about whether sipping coffee and reverent worship go together. You know you’ve touched a nerve when something like this goes viral:


As of today, it’s been viewed nearly 3 million times[i] with 3,000+ likes. And I have to admit something about his question resonates with me. But I’ve been examining my own heart.

When my wife and I prepare couples for marriage, we begin a conversation about expectations. Right or wrong, good or bad, every couple bring expectations into their relationship. These are largely based on experience, often from their family of origin. We don’t tend to think about these expectations because everybody thinks their normal is normal. (i.e. The guy works on things that break down and the wife does most of the housework.) The sooner you can identify those expectations and talk through them, the better.

These stereotypes can be the source of strain in a marriage:

“I just assumed she had the accounting under control.”

“My Dad was super handy around the house, so I expected my husband to do the same.”

These expectations don’t have to be a problem if you discuss them in advance and identify what is an absolute and what is a preference.

The same thing is true in spiritual matters.

If you have no spiritual heritage, there aren’t many expectations. Not much to compare to except bad flicks and sitcoms. But if you do, these expectations can turn into heated arguments that divide friendships and churches. The sad part is when we can’t discuss them in a reasonable way.

“The pastor should visit me in the hospital.”

“Everyone on the platform should wear business casual dress.”

“It is irreverent to wear flip-flops while preaching.”

“Suits and robes symbolize false superiority.”

“Church is not a building. Worship is more authentic outdoors.”

What comes up when we read these statements is related to our beliefs, expectations, assumptions, and experiences. What is hard for all of us is to discern when something is simply a preference.

It’s helpful to pull back from the emotion if we can and ask, “Is my expectation based on my unique experience? Is this a preference or is this an absolute?”

Some like Erik Thoennes have distinguished between these by dividing beliefs into categories like absolutes, convictions, opinions, and questions. 

I have tweaked his diagram to look like this:


1.     Absolutes - theological truths that are timeless. They are true in every place and every time. For me, and for orthodox Christians, these are scripturally clear doctrines.

2.     Convictions - beliefs we hold, based upon principles in scripture. They may have strong implications depending on the culture.

3.     Opinions - knotty theological matters that Christians have debated for centuries. If we’re wise, we don’t divide friendships and fellowship over these.

4.     Preferences - things we prefer. They may be loosely based on scripture, our experiences, or our cultural context.

Let’s take flip-flops for example. One person in a conservative church in the United States may say:

It’s so disrespectful and irreverent to read scripture or lead worship in flip-flops.

But scripturally this is impossible to defend as an absolute. If anything, we could argue the opposite---that we are being more like Jesus when wearing flip-flops because he wore sandals. This is also cultural. I have a friend in India, who asked us to take off our shoes before preaching because they consider the platform to be holy ground. (i.e. Moses took off his shoes before the burning bush.)

Then there’s the question of whether it’s appropriate for a minister to wear footwear that cost more than $100 USD. One might argue that wearing expensive shoes should disqualify one from leadership when it’s obvious that style or comfort has become more important than gospel ministry. (i.e. Shouldn’t the money spent on those Carhartt boots have been spent on the poor or for missionary work?)

What if we could simply admit that many of these are preferences? Not absolutes. If not preferences, could we at least admit these are convictions that we hold? Not absolutes?

Some people prefer classical music, organs, handbells and choirs. Some prefer guitars and exuberant settings. Some think that robes and suits reflect more reverence. Others see these things as ostentatious or, at least, pretentious.

Bottom line? The scripture doesn’t prescribe some things for all places and all times. And we should be careful not to call those things, absolutes.

For example, there is no scriptural mandate that worship should be done by candlelight, sunlight, or LED lights. We may prefer candles. Others may be triggered by candles because of association with austerity rather than simplicity. Others say good lighting helps them to focus on Jesus rather than the “charismatic waver” in the third row.

Congregations, elders, and leaders should sort out what communicates reverence within their own cultural context. What symbolizes reverence in one tradition is irreverent in another. What is sacred space in one culture is impossible to achieve in a poor neighborhood.

At the same time, we should beware of our fallenness. Pride is subtle. We are blind to our…blind spots. To truly worship requires dying to something. Can we say we are truly worshipping if it costs us nothing? Sometimes what it costs us is our preferences.

Some of the same people who say, “It is irreverent to worship with flipflops, t-shirts and jeans” are the same ones who say, “I can get just as much out of worship at home.” They see no problem worshipping at home in sock feet and bathrobe, eating Rice Krispies or scrolling on their phone while the minister prays.

Let me be clear. I am not condemning the person who can’t attend a worship gathering because their body hurts, or they find it dangerous to walk on an icy parking lot for fear of falling. What I am questioning is how quickly we divide over our preferences considering them as non-negotiable absolutes.

Disputable matters

Accept the one whose faith is weak, without quarreling over disputable matters. (Romans 14:1 NIV)

As a pastor for 40+ years, what is sad to me is how often people divide a congregation over preferences or opinions on disputable matters and how rare it is for someone to leave over truly theological matters.

It is honorable, although not commanded in every case, to divide over absolutes or convictions that have strong implications for culture and the future of the church.

Here are some good reasons to leave a fellowship:

· When the statement of faith is no longer rooted in scripture.

· When the church pivots simply because “we don’t want to offend anybody”

· When the leadership team is more concerned about seeking a crowd than seeking God.

· When the pastor talks more about good behavior than the good news (the gospel)

· When the pastor or elder’s personal life doesn’t match his pulpit life

There are more. But let’s not imitate the popular worldview that says, “If you disagree with me, you are hateful.”

Let’s also beware of our own pride that slices both ways. Do we make our preferences holy just because we like them? Are our efforts to “be authentic” simply an exchange for a different style that we happen to prefer? Do we sneer at someone who worships in dress shoes as if they are pretentious or arrogant? God knows the heart. The hipster who wears his sandals can be more proud than a guy in a suit who straps his guitar too high and still perms his hair. We can become “proud” of our authenticity.

For those of us who grew up in a Christianity with big screens, suits and permed hair, it’s easy for us to look at our jeans, candles and contemplative moments as holy and authentic. But I should beware.

Remember the worshipper Jesus describes who stands and prays, “Thank you, God, I’m not like that guy over there. He’s a sinner but I’m in good-standing with you” (Luke 18:11). This can happen just as easily in jeans as a robe. For some, this happens with a sneer from a lady in the back row who wears a dress and an expensive broach. For others, it’s a snicker as we scroll Instagram and see that guy in a suit singing “Shout to the Lord” in the wrong key. I can be the Pharisee in jeans and Birkenstocks just as easily as I can in a suit and black wing-tipped shoes.