On Maundy Thursday in 1994, Rwandan Christians gathered in church buildings to worship God. Together, they sang songs of praise, prayed as one, listened to the word preached, and communed around the Lord’s Table. They worshipped in the true spirit of the day.
The word “Maundy” comes from the Latin word for “command.” On Maundy Thursday, the day before Good Friday, Christians recall Christ’s command to love one another (John 13:35) as they gather around the Communion Table. In Rwanda, Christians worshipped God with unified voice. A week later, church services were cancelled as Hutu Christians hunted down their Tutsi brothers and sisters and slaughtered them in cold blood. What happened?
It is said that, at the time of the genocide, Rwanda was Africa’s most Christianised country. How could a country in which the gospel had reportedly made such inroads become the site of the most egregious of genocides? How could Christians go, in such a short space, from communing with one another to killing one another? The answer, encapsulated in a single word, is tribalism.
In 1994, Cardinal Roger Etchegaray visited Rwanda as the president of the Pontifical Council for Justice and Peace. At a gathering of church leaders, unpacking what had unfolded during the genocide, Cardinal Etchegaray asked, “Are you saying that the blood of tribalism is deeper than the waters of baptism?” One leader answered, “Yes, it is.”
This is both a blatant contradiction of Paul’s theology (Ephesians 2:11–17) and a stark illustration of a far broader disease within professing Christianity. In A Mirror to the Church: Resurrecting Faith After Genocide in Rwanda, Emmanuel Katalonge observes, “Christian expression throughout the world has too easily allowed the blood of tribalism to flow deeper than the waters of baptism.” It may be less obvious than it was in Rwanda, but Katalonge is right: Tribalism is a curse to Christianity “throughout the world.”
Understanding tribalism
The expression of tribalism in Christianity is, to a degree, unsurprising. As early as the first century, Paul addressed tribalism in the churches to which he ministered. He appealed for unity at Corinth (1 Corinthians 1:10–17). Factions might serve a purpose, he said (11:18–19), but we should not encourage them. He similarly appealed for unity between factions in Philippi (Philippians 4:2–3).
Tribalism is driven by the innate human need to belong. Christianity promises to meet this need. The Christian God, who is a “Father to the fatherless and protector of widows … settles the solitary in a home” (Psalm 68:5–6). The local church is the family to which the Christian belongs. It is where we find love, safety, understanding, comfort, and friendship. God knows our desire for belonging and gives us the church to meet that longing.
But the church is countercultural in this regard. In God’s design, the church finds its unity in the gospel despite differences. This is where tension arises. In our sinfulness, we want unity in uniformity; God’s gospel creates unity in diversity. The church, therefore, is meant to be a place where differences are on display and yet unity and harmony are evident. As far as there is agreement on the essentials of the gospel, unity should be manifested between churches that otherwise differ. This is why Luther and Calvin could maintain friendship and fellowship despite some doctrinal and philosophical differences. This is why Jesus called a tax collector and a Zealot, who ordinarily hated each other, and appointed them to work together in gospel ministry. Sadly, many churches and church leaders in our day appear to have lost this godly ability.
In Rwanda, an artificial sense of tribal identity led to genocide. In Christianity, superficial tribalism leads to factionalism, driven by a prideful sense of superiority. Paul gets to the heart of this in his letter to the churches in Galatia (4:17).
The false teachers in Galatia “make much of you.” The word translated “make much of” speaks of courting favour. The false teachers worked hard to court the favour of the Galatians, “but for no good purpose.” They were not interested in gospel truth or the well-being of the Galatian churches. Instead, “they want to shut you out.” They wanted to drive division between the Galatians and Paul—between the Galatians and Christ. Why? “That you may make much of them.” They promoted tribalism to make themselves the centre of attention. They were unabashedly self-seeking.
Identifying tribalism
This is the heart of tribalism. It fosters a sense of control of its followers by elevating its own teachings to the level of gospel truth and demonising and excluding dissenters. It works against the unity for which Jesus prayed (John 17:20–26). We might reference many symptoms of tribalism, but three seem to be prominent.
First, tribalism strives for certainty across the board. Certainty is good in some respects, of course. John wrote so that we “may know that [we] have eternal life” (1 John 5:13). Luke wrote so that his readers would “have certainty” about what they believed (Luke 1:1–4). But certainty about the core facts of the gospel doesn’t require certainty in every area.
Tribalism is ever on the lookout for the next debatable issue to elevate to essential. It strives to narrow every doctrinal emphasis to a single, non-debatable definition and derides dissenters. It insists that the King James Version is the only Bible translation that Christians should use today and looks down on those who disagree. It proclaims that the Bible “clearly” teaches a conscious intermediate state and excludes from orthodoxy any who differ. It declares with certainty that God created the world in six 24-hour days and tolerates no other opinion. The result is that it drives division between faithful, Bible-believing Christians where unity should exist. It wants to guard against error, and commendably opposes other gospels, but it struggles to know where to draw the line.
Tribalism may (or may not) have a noble goal: to guard the integrity of gospel truth. But it frequently goes overboard by too narrowly defining the boundaries of truth and harshly critiquing those who do not fit within those boundaries.
Second, tribalism tends to inappropriately elevate human teachers. It assumes that its favourite Christian leaders always get everything right.
Tribalism ordinarily focuses on personalities or systems. A tribe attaches itself to a particular personality or system and ascribes undue authority to that person or system. That person’s or system’s theology becomes the standard by which the tribe assesses all other theological interpretations. The tribe claims that it is doing little more than giving honour where honour is due but, in reality, it places unwarranted, almost infallible, authority in a person or a system. It simply cannot imagine its favourite teacher being wrong. It will not consider any theological emphasis that challenges its system. It thrives on identifying and marking for avoidance any who do not align precisely with its own theological system.
The moment someone disagrees with Pastor X or Confession A, they must be sidelined. I once heard the 1689 London Baptist Confession of Faith described as “inerrant,” but not “infallible.” The claimant believed that, while it is theoretically capable of error (since it is a human document), the Confession, in fact, contains no error. The implication is that anyone who does not fully affirm the Confession is, by definition, in error.
But tribalism is not only interested in academically identifying error; it draws hard lines between its own perceptions of orthodoxy and unorthodoxy and encourages marking and avoiding all who do not align with its vision of orthodoxy. Teacher Y must be avoided because he or she does not align with the orthodoxy of Teacher X. Theology B must be marginalised because it does not agree with Confession A, regardless of whether Theology B affirms and seeks to be faithful to the authority of Scripture. It only welcomes those who carry the theological passport that it issues.
Third, and related to the above tribalism easily identifies errors in other tribes but is blind to its own errors. Error lies out there, not in here. The result is that anyone who is not a part of the tribe is villainised, if not demonised. There is a distinct lack of grace and patience to those who differ with the tribe.
Overcoming tribalism
How do we overcome the tendency to ungodly tribalism? In essence, we must remember that Christian unity rests in Christ, not in uniformity of belief.
Of course, some nuance is required here. It is necessary to believe certain truth claims about Christ. Christians are united in their belief about the birth, life, death, resurrection, reign, and return of Jesus Christ. We must share belief in these core truths to enjoy any meaningful fellowship.
But shared belief in these core truths does not necessarily translate into agreement in every minute doctrinal detail. Christians can enjoy fellowship and partnership even in the face of differences over baptism, eschatological minutiae, and the place of social activism in the Christian life. We do not need shared convictions concerning vaccines or political identity to enjoy meaningful fellowship and partnership.
Too often, we allow differences to become the source of enmity. If I entirely reject any validity to critical race theory, I must utterly dismiss any Christian who suggests there might be something to it, even if that brother fully affirms the core truths of Christianity. If I vote for political candidate A, I must call into question the faith of any believer who casts her vote for political candidate B. In doing so, we resist the Holy Spirit, who is at work to unite God’s people in Christ.
The words of Joshua Lewis helpfully capture the heart of God:
Amen!