Orthodoxy

The older I get, the more I lean into orthodoxy.  As a general rule, I am wary when I hear the terms cutting-edge, novel, groundbreaking, or progressive applied to theology.

Orthodoxy is objective.  

Orthodoxy is bigger than me.  

Orthodoxy is a standard outside of myself--my weaknesses, my blind spots, my biases--to which my theology conforms.

Orthodoxy is stable.

Orthodoxy is an anchor that keeps us from this tossing about with every wave of doctrine. 

Theology has an unfortunate tendency to adapt, both to the culture around us and to the storm within us.  We too often import current cultural values into Christianity because we don't want to be out of touch or old-fashioned.  We also allow our personal experiences--triumphs and failures, successes and hardships--to color the way we view God and interpret His Word.  

We believe what we want to believe.

We are masters of self-deception--we can convince ourselves of anything.  Our reason follows after our desires like a puppy dog follows its owner or a teenage boy follows a pretty girl.

Orthodoxy keeps us from riding the pendulum back and forth.

Orthodoxy helps us to avoid allowing valid concerns--poor theology or spiritual abuses--to lead us to invalid theological reorientations.  

Orthodoxy frees us from slavery to upheaval.

The message of the Gospel demands to be applied to our unique cultural and personal settings, but the message itself must remain the same.  

Orthodoxy ensures that the core of the Gospel, however variously it may be applied in any given context, remains undistorted by my personal whims.

Orthodoxy is restful.

Orthodoxy is emboldening.

Orthodoxy is beautiful.

Hold fast, my brethren.  Hold fast to orthodoxy.