Down through the centuries has come a Latin phrase that’s full of wisdom: In necessariis unitas, in dubiis libertas, in omnibus caritas. Translated into English it reads, “In necessary things, unity; in doubtful things, liberty; and all things, charity.” I first came across this in an intro. course to historical theology. It immediately became a central plank of my ecumenical faith, but my soul hadn’t yet perceived its true significance. Only recently have I come into a fuller grasp of the phrase’s theological depth. I wasn’t being Christocentric, so it was an exercise in futility.
To help promote church unity, I’ve often harped on the distinction between orthodoxy and adiaphora. Orthodoxy literally means “right belief,” but has come to mean the essential doctrines that are necessary for unity. In other words, “In necessary things, unity.” Adiaphora means “things indifferent,” but in practice refers to secondary beliefs on which Jesus followers may disagree while remaining in fellowship. Said another way, “In doubtful things, liberty.” What I missed was the significance of the third part. It wasn’t written in descending order of importance.
I always emphasized the third part as a plea for civility, but the whole time it was miscategorized in my subconscious mind. Way down deep, the first two parts were “theological” while the third was “cultural” or “social.” The first section was about maintaining fidelity to the essential plot points of Scripture‘s redemptive story while the second was about creating room to creatively explore and critically wrestle with the text. To my mind, that was the stuff of theology. The last section had lesser importance, merely serving as a gentle reminder not to be an asshole about it.
Our Lord declared that the greatest commandment is to love God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength. We’re to love God above all else. The second commandment is to love your neighbor as yourself. Upon these two hang all the law and the prophets, right? Yet somehow Christian culture got it my head to make an unholy division between truth as theology and love as culture. My bad. Keith Giles got this right when he wrote, “If we really had a Christ-centered theology, then the greatest heresy would be a failure to love others as Jesus commanded.”
The original beatniks weren’t exactly teachers of Christian orthodoxy. You know what they did earnestly try to do, though? Love one another. I still believe Jesus followers need to hold together right belief and right action with equal emphasis, but what I now see is that I’d been conditioned to frame it all wrong. Orthodoxy and orthopraxy can be distinguished but never separated. Why? Because love doesn’t rank third after what’s necessary and doubtful. The greatest commandment pervades all. Without Christ-like love, even “orthodox” Christianity is Christ-less heresy.