“[The one who comes after me], his winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.”
Matthew 3:12 (NIV)

We live in very unique times. In fact, I believe that we are in one of the most tectonic shifts in the history of Christianity. It is, perhaps, the most significant shift since the Reformation. Mainline denominations who held sway over the lives of millions of believers around the globe for centuries have imploded and fractured into countless factions. Some are still in the process of their implosions. After Covid, millions of regular and semi-regular church goers simply stayed home and never returned to church. Here in rural Iowa where Wendy and I live, small churches have shut their doors in record numbers. The institutions of academia and government around the globe, many of them founded by Christians and/or Christian principles, have become hostile to Christianity, some claiming it to be the worst thing that ever happened to humanity.

I can see the result of these things in our own local gathering of believers. It broke with the mainline denomination it was part of for a century and a half. Suddenly it is a melting pot of sincere and committed Jesus’ followers from widely diverse denominational backgrounds and theological bents. It is forcing our gathering to reexamine all of our beliefs and ritual practices. I personally consider this a great thing.

A while back I ran into someone among our gathering who came from a slightly different theological bent than our gathering’s tradition. One of the differences, which I consider to be minor, is in the interpretation of the prophesies of the end times such as in the book of Revelation. My friend was obviously disturbed, believing their interpretation to be the one true way of belief, and the gathering’s traditional interpretation to be heretical. These are the kinds of hair-splitting that created so many denominational silos over the centuries. In my mind, we can no longer afford such proud luxuries of smug assuredness in our interpretation of theological non-essentials, especially as it relates to the prophetic.

The truth of things is that humans have a long tradition of getting God’s prophecies wrong. The greatest, most educated theological minds of Jesus’ day had interpreted that God’s Messiah would be a warrior King (wrong) who would wipe out Rome (wrong), establish Himself as a human monarch on a throne in Jerusalem (wrong), and rule over all the kingdoms of this world (wrong).

In today’s chapter, we meet John the Baptist. John was the fulfillment of multiple prophesies. He was a herald and forerunner of Jesus as proclaimed by Isaiah. The prophet Malachi, in the final prophetic words of the Great Story before the time of Jesus, said that the prophet Elijah would return. In the story of Elijah, he did not physically die but was taken up to heaven. So, naturally all of the great theological minds in Jesus’ day with the proud luxury of espousing and proclaiming their learned thought were assured that Elijah himself would physically return in bodily form. They were all wrong.

Of John, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, among those born of women there has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist.” Yet as I pondered John’s words in the chapter it was obvious that John had his own preconceived notions about who Jesus would be and how things would play out. John expected Jesus to immediately be the superhero Messiah in his cape, wiping out the bad guys and ushering in a new world order. In fact, in just a few chapters John will find himself unjustly languishing in Herod’s prison. The fact that Jesus has not dashed into a phone booth, come out wearing his cape, given Herod his just desserts, and freed John from prison has John at the point of having a crisis of faith.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself asking a simple question. If the prophet whom Jesus said was greater than everyone was completely wrong in his interpretation of the ancient prophesies and what Jesus’ life, ministry, and mission would actually be, then how can I possibly afford to be smug in my own personal theological interpretations? History proves that humans regularly get the prophetic wrong. God through Isaiah made it clear that God’s ways are not our ways and His ways and thoughts are infinitely higher than our own. Why on earth would I conclude that I am one-hundred percent right and other learned, sincere believers are one-hundred percent wrong in their interpretation of how things will play out at the end of the Great Story? Why on earth would I judge them and let our differences of opinion divide us?

The further I get in my journey, the more humbly I find myself simply choosing not to ascend theological hills to die on. I find myself more open than ever to loving and learning from my brothers and sisters in our diversity of thought, experience, and backgrounds. I am more convinced than ever that we are entering a time when believers will find unity in the essentials of our faith and learn to appreciate and learn from our diversity in the non-essentials. The world has shunned the arrogance, division, and pride of our forebears in their denominational kingdoms. Perhaps we can learn to be the Light of the World in our humility and love for one another in the age to come.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.