Evangelical Pharisees and Pharisaic, Self-Righteousness.

If we are honest every Christian is prone to falling back into the ditch of "self-righteousness." Any good bible study and related book on pharisaic, self-righteousness call for humble, self-examination and confession. May our common prayer be, "Lord have mercy on us all!" "And "Father, forgive me for I have fallen short of your glory. Shower me with your grace and help me to grow in true love and true piety."

Christian author Michael Reeves calls pharisaical hypocrisy “the hidden cancer” (12) of the church.

Worse yet, few things tempt believers to pull away from, or even abandon Christ's church more than pharisaic, self-righteousness.  

Churches that are (more) sound in doctrine can easily become breeding grounds for "holier than thou art" church members. Sadly, it took me far too many years of pastoral ministry before I realized this grave danger. Some lessons are learned the hard way.  For example, identifying one's congregation as a "remnant church" fuels a proudly pious attitude and often unintentionally creates an abundance of self-righteous (evangelical) pharisees.  

Fundamental Baptists are certainly not the only churches and graduates that struggle with this temptation.  “For the Pharisee, it all begins with a basic posture of the heart: looking down. They look down on others as they compare themselves to them. (21)"  Bringing others down while secretly elevating self.  This sin of comparison and judgement begins in the mind before expressing itself with the mouth (or gavel).

Reeves wisely notes that “There are a number of telltales when Christians fall into the self-reliant mindset of the Pharisee” (48). First among these pharisaical tendencies is the sign of hypocrisy. Quoting C. S. Lewis, Reeves shows that arrogant condemnation is a first cousin to hypocrisy.  The evangelical church has hurt many sheep and damaged its Christian testimony in this very manner more times than one can count.

Hypocrisy on the other hand seeks to conceal my sin (struggles) by seeking to widely broadcast your (supposed) sin(s). “The sins of the flesh are bad, but they are the least bad of all sins. All the worst pleasures are purely spiritual: the pleasure of putting other people in the wrong, of bossing and patronizing, and spoiling sport, and back-biting, the pleasures of power and hatred” (13).

Evangelical Pharisees are often pitiless to those they deem outside their group, but merciful to themselves and those of their own sect (tribe). Thus they violate the heart and soul of Ephesians 4 and the core teaching of Christ in Matthew 7:1-5. They may call themselves trained "peacemakers" but selectively apply the biblical principles of peacemaking (see Ken Sande's 4 G's).  

Sinful partiality lies hidden beneath the surface of self-righteous scrutiny. Magnifying the perceived weaknesses and/or real sins of others, while covering up and/or minimizing, their own. Gossip, gluttony, bitterness, pornography, unforgiveness, anger, self-righteousness, and other vices are quietly swept under the rug while demanding others humble themselves via public confession. If an evangelical pharisees confesses a sin in private they parade themselves and declare their protected tribe as being "blameless" when back in the public spotlight.  Instead of celebrating evidences of grace they cast stones.

Additionally, evangelical pharisees judge the apparent humility and genuineness of another's private confession or public repentance while rationalizing away their own logs and excusing their besetting sins!  The Spirit of God reminds us in Scripture, "Who among you is without sin?" Who do we think we are?  

Modern-day Evangelical Pharisees are “not only pitiless but partisan, they eye others with suspicion for the minor defenses that they deem to represent a different gospel” (51).  Evangelical Pharisees “treat those not of their sect with a merciless lack of love” (64).  “Their high sense of self make them equate the gospel with their own particular style; their buzzwords; and their particular culture/group” (51).

Pharisees are legalistic often in the name of wanting to protect God's Law and God's Name.  “In just the same way, evangelicals today can fool themselves that they are being truly biblical. Scripture can be used only to confirm what they have come to believe on other grounds” (35).Reeves then explores “how tradition helps tribes” (35). “Tribalism is the inevitable consequence of allowing tradition—or anything else—parity with the word of God. As soon as we adopt any rallying banner other than the gospel, we sacrifice evangelical unity” (36).“Each silo subtly develops its own particular slang, peculiar dialect, shibboleths, and buzzwords. Its members learn the ‘in’ patter and dress code, talking and walking in specific ways that ape the inner ring of their party leaders. They become, as C. S. Lewis put it, like the country bumpkin, full of ‘the cocksure conviction of an ignorant adolescent that his own village (which is the only one he knows) is the hub of the universe and does everything in the Only Right Way.’ Out of sheer ignorance as much as anything else, the inhabitants of other villages seem increasingly alien and wrong. Out of sight and understanding, they grow horns” (36).

Modern-day Pharisees easily and mercilessly criticize others, but they are quickly and easily offended by others.  Evangelical pharisees love to find fault in other pastors, churches, and seminaries in order to elevate themselves.  In my own experience, certain "mentors" warped my understanding of this under the banner of Christian discernment.

Don’t Mistake Your Passion for Theological Precision

Caring Enough to Be Careful

I’m glad there are people in the world—most people in the world, it turns out—who know more about cars than I do. I don’t want good-natured well-wishers to replace my alternator. I want someone who has paid careful attention to the intricacies of auto repair. I want someone who cares about precision. I want someone who knows what he’s doing. I want an expert.

To act as if no one knows more than anyone else is not only silly; it’s also a serious mistake. In his book The Death of Expertise, Tom Nichols cites a survey from a few years ago in which enthusiasm for military intervention in Ukraine was directly proportional to the person’s lack of knowledge about Ukraine. It seems that the dumber we are, the more confident we are in our own intellectual achievements.

Nichols relays an incident where someone on Twitter was trying to do research about sarin gas. When the world’s expert on sarin gas offered to help, the original tweeter (a world-class “twit” we might say) proceeded to angrily lecture the expert for acting like a know-it-all. The expert may not have known it all, but in this case, he knew exponentially more than someone crowdsourcing his research online. And when it comes to chemical warfare, I’d like my experts to have as much expertise as possible.

We live in an age where passion is often considered an adequate substitute for precision.

We’ve swallowed the lie that says that if we believe in equal rights, we must believe that all opinions have equal merit. Nichols also tells the story of an undergraduate student arguing with a renowned astrophysicist who was on campus to give a lecture about missile defense. After seeing that the famous scientist was not going to change his mind after hearing the arguments from a college sophomore, the student concluded in a harrumph, “Well, your guess is as good as mine.” At which point the astrophysicist quickly interjected, “No, no, no. My guesses are much, much better than yours.”1