“All science has a bias.” My interest was aroused when I read that statement,
recently, in a forestry publication. The author was trying to accentuate the
differences in viewpoints held by foresters, loggers, environmentalists, and
politicians. All profess to be scientific, but all come to differing
conclusions due to variations in their starting bias. The writer was trying to
urge tree farmers not to back off from the debate and formulation of policies
and laws in the forestry industry. But I quickly switched tracks. I applied it
to theology. The same is true, “All theology
has a bias.”
We all inherit beliefs -- from parents,
church, denomination, school, theologians and commentators. And with those
beliefs comes an underlying bias, whether we know it or not. Every new truth or
opinion then must fit the mold which that bias creates. You cannot think
differently, cannot consider otherwise. You cannot even hear statements that do
not support your bias. They go sailing right on by.
Jesus told his disciples over and over that
he would die and that he would rise again. Over 20 times he told them. But it
never ever registered with them They did not expect him to rise from the dead. Jesus’
enemies heard him, but not his disciples. How is that possible? Probably due to
a great big huge bias that they held, derived from Daniel’s great prophecies. They
believed that the Son of God would rule an eternal kingdom, that “His dominion
is an everlasting dominion that will not pass away, and his kingdom is one that
will not be destroyed” (Dan 7:14). They did not believe he would die, so they
never even heard Jesus say that he would rise again. You see, a bias can be
pretty powerful when it’s deeply entrenched.
I want to illustrate further by saying that in my lifetime of study,
teaching, ministering and writing, I have changed my beliefs in three
significant areas of theology. And I mean change, not just tinker with
them. Those three areas of theology are
demons, the Holy Spirit, and end times prophecy. I won’t elaborate my starting
point and ending point in these three theologies, because what I want to
emphasize is this. If you are willing to scrutinize your beliefs at the very
foundational level, you must look at the underlying bias that supports them. When
I saw the errors in the underpinnings of some of the doctrines I was taught,
then the whole superstructure was suspect. It had to be reconsidered,
realigned, completely redefined. In some cases that redefining task took on
urgency and moved quickly. Other times it was a slow train moving. But that was
fine with me. I would rather arrive at the truth than stay stuck in a bias that
I inherited.
To be honest, I may not have moved
in the direction of scrutinizing my beliefs if it had not been for events and teaching
that God providentially put in front of my face at various times. At those
points I was left with a decision – dismiss the providence of God, or dismantle
the bias I had inherited. I think that changing our bias in theology requires great
sensitivity to the Spirit of God and letting go of the pride and self-assured
cockiness that accompanies our bias. A wise mentor said to me when I was much
younger, “Know what you believe, but hold it loosely.” I have never forgotten that
statement. It may sound like heresy to some, but for me it was wisdom from the
mind of God. What do you see in the
picture? A rabbit? Don’t be so sure. Maybe it’s a duck.
Don’t get me wrong. There is
the case for heresy. (Just ask the apostle Paul.) There is a case for pastors
and elders protecting the flock from following after false doctrine and false
teaching. But when a good portion of the church believes differently than you
do, it might be wise to hold back on the attack. They are your brother in the
Lord. Love is more powerful even than truth – engage the person, not the
debate.