KOG

🚨 Mr. Oyedokun, Michael O, one of the teachers kidnapped in Oriire was just murdered, the video clip was bad. First picture below just before he was murdered and second picture when he was in his Sunday Best. He was a Mathematics teacher. The bandits that released the video clip in order to scare away the security operatives that are closing in on them.

I think we can all agree that believers have always had disagreements on several doctrinal issues. And it is important to note that even our inspired brothers, the apostles, who saw, lived, and ate with the incarnate God, weren't exempt from these strong debates. Today, the most troubling thing in Christian online spaces is not simply that believers disagree, but the speed, confidence, and sometimes delight with which some Christians now tag others “heretics,” “false teachers,” “unsound,” or “outside the faith,” not always because the gospel has been denied, but because their theological system, denomination, or preferred teacher has been challenged. That is dangerous. Because Scripture commands discernment, yes. But it also condemns partiality, pride, slander, factionalism, and hypocritical judgment. Jesus said: “You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.” (Matt. 7:5) Paul warned: “Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up.” (1 Cor. 8:1) James also warned: “Not many of you should become teachers…” (James 3:1) And again: “Do not speak evil against one another, brothers. The one who speaks against a brother or judges his brother, speaks evil against the law and judges the law.” (James 4:11) This does not mean we cannot judge doctrine. We must. Paul told Timothy: “Take heed unto thyself, and unto the doctrine; continue in them: for in doing this thou shalt both save thyself, and them that hear thee.” (1 Tim. 4:16). Titus was told to “rebuke those who contradict” sound doctrine (Titus 1:9). John said to “test the spirits” (1 John 4:1). So the church must not become careless about truth. But biblical discernment is not the same as sectarian name-calling. A person is not automatically a heretic because he disagrees with our camp’s framework on election, spiritual gifts, baptism, communion, eschatology, church government, or secondary theological ordering. Heresy is not simply “a doctrine I strongly disagree with.” Heresy is a destructive departure from the apostolic gospel. The New Testament reserves its strongest condemnations for those who deny or corrupt the foundation: Another gospel (Gal. 1:6–9). Denial of Christ’s incarnation (1 John 4:2–3). Denial of the resurrection (1 Cor. 15:12–19). Denial of the Master (2 Pet. 2:1). Turning grace into sensuality (Jude 4). Works-righteousness as the basis of justification (Gal. 5:4). That is not the same as disagreement over every difficult doctrinal question. And here is where many of us must repent: We are often harsher on sincere believers outside our camp than we are on dangerous errors inside our camp. If a Catholic overstates tradition, Protestants shout “another gospel.” But if Protestants create celebrity cults around their own teachers, they call it “honoring sound men.” If a Pentecostal abuses prophecy, some Reformed voices shout “false teacher.” But if a Reformed voice teaches troubling determinism, many excuse it as “mystery.” If a charismatic preacher mishandles a text, he is mocked. But if a respected scholar bends “all,” “world,” or “whoever” until the words barely resemble their natural sense, it is called “deep exegesis.” If an Arminian seems to weaken sovereignty, he is condemned. But if a Calvinist presentation appears to weaken the sincerity of God’s universal call, many call it “high theology.” This selective outrage is not spiritual maturity. It is tribalism baptized in doctrinal language. Paul condemned party spirit in Corinth: “I follow Paul.” “I follow Apollos.” “I follow Cephas.” “I follow Christ.” Paul’s response was piercing: “Is Christ divided?” (1 Cor. 1:12–13) That question should haunt Christian Twitter. Is Christ divided? Then why do we behave as though our theological tribe owns Him? Why do some Pentecostals speak of cessationists as though they have no Spirit? Why do some Baptists speak of sacramental traditions as though nobody loved Scripture before them? Why do some Catholics and Orthodox speak as though Protestants are historical accidents? Why do some newly embraced theological converts treat their new doctrinal framework like enlightenment and everyone outside it like theological peasants? Why do some evangelicals behave as though church history began with their favorite conference? Every camp has blind spots. Arminianism has tensions around divine sovereignty, assurance, election, and the depth of human depravity. Calvinism has unresolved tensions around divine determinism, human responsibility, the universal gospel offer, and the meaning of texts like John 3:16, 1 Timothy 2:4, 2 Peter 3:9, Hebrews 2:9, and 1 John 2:2. Pentecostalism has produced deep hunger for the Spirit, but also excesses, emotionalism, and abuses of prophecy. Cessationism has defended the sufficiency of Scripture, but can sometimes functionally reduce the Spirit to doctrine alone. Catholicism preserves historic continuity and sacramental seriousness, but faces grave questions around Marian dogmas, papal authority, purgatory, and justification. Eastern Orthodoxy preserves ancient worship and mystery, but raises questions around icons, tradition, and authority. Baptists emphasize personal faith and Scripture, but have their own disputes over ecclesiology, baptism, and fragmentation. Lutherans, Anglicans, Methodists, Presbyterians, Charismatics, independents, all have strengths, all have weaknesses, all have histories of internal dispute. So if every theological weakness equals heresy, everyone becomes a heretic except the person speaking. That should terrify us. Because pride loves to turn conviction into superiority. The apostles themselves were not flawless in understanding from day one. Peter rejected the necessity of the cross and was rebuked sharply (Matt. 16:21–23). The disciples argued about greatness (Luke 22:24). They misunderstood the kingdom even after the resurrection (Acts 1:6). Peter later acted contrary to the truth of the gospel and Paul opposed him publicly (Gal. 2:11–14). Apollos was eloquent, fervent, and mighty in Scripture, yet incomplete in understanding until Priscilla and Aquila explained the way of God more accurately (Acts 18:24–26). The Jerusalem council involved “much debate” over a gospel-critical issue (Acts 15:7). This is Scripture showing us that growth, correction, and theological refinement are part of the life of God’s people. So why do we treat every imperfect formulation today as proof of rebellion? Why do we assume malice where there may be immaturity? Why do we assume deception where there may be limited understanding? Why do we assume heresy where there may be a brother who needs correction? Paul gives a different posture: “The Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting opponents with gentleness” (2 Tim. 2:24–25). That is not weakness. That is apostolic strength under the control of the Spirit. At the same time, Scripture gives no permission to tolerate deliberate gospel corruption. Paul did not gently dialogue with those preaching justification by circumcision as another gospel (Gal. 1:8–9). John did not treat denial of Christ as a minor interpretive difference (1 John 2:22–23). Jude did not normalize those who turned grace into sensuality (Jude 4). So we need categories. Not all errors are equal. Some errors are damnable. Some are dangerous. Some are serious but not gospel-destroying. Some are immature. Some are semantic. Some are inherited from tradition. Some are caused by limited knowledge of language, context, or history. This is where many online debates fail. They flatten everything. They make every disagreement an emergency. They make every correction a cancellation. They make every tradition outside their own camp suspicious. But Scripture teaches us to “rightly divide the word of truth” (2 Tim. 2:15). That requires patience. It requires context. It requires humility. It requires distinguishing between the foundation and the framework. The foundation is Christ: His deity. His incarnation. His sinless life. His atoning death. His burial. His bodily resurrection. His ascension. His exaltation. His lordship. His return. Salvation by grace through faith. The authority of Scripture. The call to repentance and faith. These are central. These are not negotiable. But many disputes happen not at the foundation, but at the framework level: How election works. How divine sovereignty relates to human responsibility. Whether gifts continue. If and how baptism should be administered. How communion should be understood. How church government should function. How prophecy should be regulated. How the millennium should be interpreted. How Israel and the church relate. These matter. But they do not all carry the same weight. A mature church knows how to contend without devouring. Paul said: “If you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another” (Gal. 5:15). That describes much of online Christianity. We are often not defending the faith once delivered. We are defending our camps once discovered. Especially among some new theological converts, there is a common pattern: A person discovers a system. The system gives answers. The answers feel coherent. The person feels enlightened. Then everyone outside that system suddenly looks shallow, emotional, liberal, unserious, or unsound. That is not always maturity. Sometimes it is theological adolescence. Real maturity is slower. It knows that systems can help, but systems can also blind. It knows that church history matters, but church history is not inspired. It knows that confessions can be useful, but only Scripture is God-breathed (2 Tim. 3:16). It knows that teachers are gifts, but no teacher is lord over the conscience. Even Paul praised the Bereans because they tested his teaching by Scripture (Acts 17:11). If apostolic preaching was examined by Scripture, then Calvin, Wesley, Aquinas, Luther, Augustine, Chrysostom, contemporary pastors, Twitter theologians, and denominational traditions must all be examined by Scripture too. No camp gets immunity. No big name gets a pass. No circle should protect its own errors while exposing everyone else’s. That is hypocrisy. And Jesus was severe with hypocritical religion. “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites” (Matt. 23). The church today needs both courage and humility. Courage to call out real error. Humility to admit our own camp has errors too. Courage to reject another gospel. Humility to stop calling every disagreement another gospel. Courage to defend doctrine. Humility to keep loving brothers we are correcting. Humility not to mistake wounded sheep for wolves. Because Christ did not tell us the world would know us by how brilliantly we win debates. He said: “By this all people will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another” (John 13:35). Love does not cancel truth. Truth does not excuse cruelty. The church must recover both. So before we call someone a heretic, we should ask: Has this person denied the apostolic gospel? Are they rejecting Christ, His incarnation, His cross, His resurrection, His lordship, or salvation by grace? Are they deliberately twisting Scripture after correction? Or are they a sincere believer with a flawed framework, limited understanding, inherited tradition, or immature expression? Those are not the same. And treating them as the same damages the body of Christ. The goal is not doctrinal laziness. The goal is doctrinal faithfulness with Christian character. Because if our theology makes us more arrogant, less patient, more tribal, more contemptuous, and less loving toward Christ’s people, then even where we are technically correct, something in us is spiritually wrong. “Speak the truth in love” (Eph. 4:15). Not truth without love. Not love without truth. Both. That is the apostolic way.