Why is it that the most demanding parts of Christian ethics are the simplest?
I have spent most of my career writing and teaching about very controversial topics, the types of topics that our culture finds intolerable. I’ve authored books in support of biblical marriage, opposing abortion, defending religious liberty, and criticizing transgender ideology. One could rightly assume that opposing the progressive consensus is what’s most challenging.
But here’s what I’ve learned in almost 15 years of a career spent dealing with issues in the public square: The hardest topic in Christian ethics is not defending what is culturally unpopular. Those issues are simply controversial, not complex. Despite revisionist efforts to obscure what the Bible teaches, it is actually quite clear on matters such as marriage, human dignity, and the differences between male and female. Distinguishing complexity from controversy is important because we may be tempted to believe that those contending for biblical truth in the public square are masterclass-level Christians in their personal lives or that they’ve mastered “the basics.” What I’m here to tell you is that the “basics” are far more demanding. The most arduous task of Christian ethics, or the complex part, is doing the simplest and basic things we’re called to do as Christians.
I call this Christianity 101. Consider what Galatians 5:23 impresses upon Christians: “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.”
Why is being gentle and forgiving toward an erring brother or sister in Christ more difficult than opposing abortion? Why is keeping our mouths shut and refraining from gossiping more difficult than posting our opposition to abortion on social media? Because these types of Christian ethics impose immense personal cost to our ego, our ambition, our pride, our sense of entitlement, and our sense of justice.
Søren Kierkegaard once wrote: “The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of scheming swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand, we are obliged to act accordingly.” What I think Kierkegaard names is the attempt to offer throat-clearing justifications that allow us to explain away the obvious.
In other words, the Bible tells us to love our enemies, but we create exceptions to the rule. The Bible calls us to be forbearing with other Christians, but when a Christian brother or sister wrongs us, we somehow find carve-outs to the command to forgive. The temptation is to offer self-groveling defenses, or to justify why we do not have to do what the plain text of Scripture tells us to do, even among those who hold a high view of Scripture.
As I’ve come to understand the Christian life at the ripe age of 41, what I have learned is that the hardest doctrines to keep are not the esoteric debates over divine providence (important as those are) but the most elementary practices of the Christian faith that the Bible spells out with great simplicity. What are those practices? To name but a few: Being humble, admitting when you are wrong, being approachable, receiving correction with humility, exhibiting kindness, acting with charity, extending forgiveness when asked, and asking others for forgiveness when you wrong them. How does this play out in my own life? It’s much easier to bash progressives online in order to win the culture than it is to pray for them. But Christ calls me to the latter just as much as He calls me to make arguments that can defeat the former.
It is essential that Christians know doctrine backward and forward. But we must also emphasize alongside that doctrine the ethics that “adorns” it—love, charity, and kindness (Titus 2:10). Orthodoxy (right belief) and orthopraxy (right practice) are a double helix in the New Testament, for never does one read that we can hold to right doctrine at the expense of right conduct. They’re a package deal.
What fascinates me about all of this is that Galatians 5:23, calling for Christians to bear the fruit of the Spirit, comes before a warning three verses later: “Let us not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another.” And there’s a warning before 5:23 in 5:15: “If you bite and devour one another, watch out that you are not consumed by one another.” If we’re keeping score, then what we observe is that while Galatians may be the most theologically ferocious epistle that we read from Paul (he calls for false teachers to emasculate themselves; he opposes Peter to his face), Paul seems equally worried that his Galatian readers could err not only on the what of justification but also in how it is defended. In other words, underneath Paul’s argument is the concern that a church could hold to the right doctrine and yet lose its soul in how it handles that doctrine.
Here’s the beauty of all of this: What should be the easiest things to practice can become the easiest things to practice if we’re willing to let the Spirit of Christ transform us into His image. We can, for example, be quick to apologize and forgive. Why? Because we’re Christians, after all—we’re a people whose whole faith begins from a posture of repentance and divine forgiveness. What better place is there to be wrong than in front of a people who are commanded to forgive?
We must be a people who are unbending on the truth. But let’s also be a people who are not afraid to be wrong or to ask forgiveness. I’m convinced practices like this are the hardest element of Christianity, but they are the practices that will demonstrate that all our head knowledge cannot overshadow the most basic Christian virtues, difficult though they may be.
That’s Christianity 101.
This article originally appeared at WORLD Opinions on August 14, 2026.
