Jude 12 actually borrows from the exact same imagery as the parable of the soils, describing apostates as “autumn trees without fruit, twice dead, pulled up by the roots.” These superficial “saints” are actually rootless, fruitless, and dead. So they inevitably fall away.
That is the very essence of apostasy: hearing the truth, knowing what it is, professing to accept it, and then finally rejecting it. Because the final disavowal of the truth occurs with full knowledge and understanding, this is a fatal apostasy from which there is no hope of recovery. It is precisely the sin described in such chilling terms in Hebrews 6:4–6: “It is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and have become partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come, if they fall away, to renew them again to repentance, since they crucify again for themselves the Son of God, and put Him to an open shame.”
Jesus’ parable of the soils pictures what Hebrews 6 describes. It is also exactly what Jude is writing about: apostasy.
Apostasy is not merely a problem for peripheral or obviously half-hearted disciples. Christian leaders sometimes apostatize too. Because they love power and prestige—or because of other equally sinister motives, such as lust (Jude 4; 2 Peter 2:10) and greed (Jude 11; 1 Timothy 6:5)—even when they “fall away,” apostate leaders don’t necessarily leave the visible church. They frequently remain and continue to function as preachers, teachers, or authors. Certainly, they pretend to be Christians. They cover up their defection with subtlety. They profess faithfulness to the truth even as they try to undermine its foundations. Influential people who profess or pretend to believe the truth although they do not savingly believe it are probably the greatest internal danger the church faces.
Church history is filled with examples of this—from the Judaizers whose false gospel confused the Galatian churches, to the many corrupt televangelists of today whose avarice, moral failures, false prophecies, phony “miracles,” and erroneous doctrine are a reproach to Christianity and a stumbling block to the undiscerning.
INFLUENTIAL PEOPLE WHO
PROFESS OR PRETEND TO
BELIEVE THE TRUTH
ALTHOUGH THEY DO NOT
SAVINGLY BELIEVE IT ARE
PROBABLY THE GREATEST
INTERNAL DANGER THE
CHURCH FACES.
To some degree, apostasy is always a willful and deliberate sin. An apostate is not someone who is merely indifferent to God’s Word or ignorant about what it teaches. Someone who has never even heard the truth is not an “apostate,” even though he or she might be a teacher in a false religion. Apostasy is a far worse sin than that. An apostate is someone who has received the light but not the life, the seed but not the fruit, the written Word but not the living Word, the truth but not a love for the truth (2 Thessalonians 2:10).
That is not to suggest that apostates themselves are never deluded or confused. Usually these deceivers are themselves subject to blinding kinds of deception (2 Timothy 3:13). They may actually imagine that in some sense they are serving the cause of truth (cf. John 16:2). But at one point or another, they have willfully rejected the truth with sufficient knowledge and understanding to be fully responsible for it. That is what makes the sin of apostasy so evil: it begins with a deliberate rejection of the truth after the truth has been heard and understood.
Acts 8:9–25 gives a classic biblical example of how apostasy can occur. There we meet Simon, a magician who, according to Luke, had made his reputation by astonishing the people of Samaria with “sorcery” (most likely by sleight of hand), claiming he was someone great and powerful. In other words, Simon was a professional con artist. According to Luke, the people of Samaria believed Simon’s tricks were wrought by “the great power of God” (v. 10).
But when the gospel came to Samaria, everything changed.
Verses 12–13 say, “When [the Samaritans] believed Philip as he preached the things concerning the kingdom of God and the name of Jesus Christ, both men and women were baptized. Then Simon himself also believed; and when he was baptized he continued with Philip, and was amazed, seeing the miracles and signs which were done.”
We can be certain that Philip’s message was a clear, complete, accurate, faithful presentation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. People—evidently lots of them—were being baptized. Philip was having a profound evangelistic impact among the Samaritans, and the gospel reverberated so deeply into the community that even Simon the magician “believed.”
How authentic Simon’s faith at first appeared is seen in the fact that he was baptized and “continued with Philip” and was amazed at what he saw. Signs and wonders (truly great miracles, not tricks) were taking place, and Simon was genuinely astonished. An expert in clever illusions and hocus-pocus, he saw plainly and understood immediately that Philip was no cheap grifter. He could see right away that Philip’s message was truth, and Simon’s initial response was all positive. At least on a superficial level, he “believed.” That is, when he saw the truth and understood it, he didn’t reject it outright.
But verses 18–19 tell us, “When Simon saw that through the laying on of the apostles’ hands the Holy Spirit was given, he offered them money, saying, ‘Give me this power also, that anyone on whom I lay hands may receive the Holy Spirit.’” Apparently, when the apostles laid hands on the new believers in Samaria, there was some visible manifestation of the Holy Spirit’s coming to that person. In all likelihood, the Samaritan converts spoke in tongues miraculously (not with mere gibberish, but in known, recognizable languages) just as the first believers at Pentecost had. The outpouring of languages would have been a clear sign that the Samaritans were receiving the same Holy Spirit on the same terms as the original Jewish believers, lest there be a division in the church. When Simon witnessed such a wondrous sign, he desperately wanted the power to perform that miracle at will.
Remember, Simon had believed, been baptized, continued with Philip, observed all the signs, and was constantly and positively amazed. By all outward appearances, his faith seemed authentic. But Peter said to him, “Your money perish with you, because you thought that the gift of God could be purchased with money!” (v. 20). Peter clearly regarded Simon’s request as evidence that the magician was not a real believer at all. “You have neither part nor portion in this matter, for your heart is not right in the sight of God” (v. 21).
That, by the way, is known as the direct method of confronting an apostate.
Notice that in Peter’s subsequent call for Simon’s repentance, the apostle speaks of forgiveness in almost hypothetical terms, suggesting that Simon’s sin was so serious that it might not even be forgivable: “Repent therefore of this your wickedness, and pray God if perhaps the thought of your heart may be forgiven you. For I see that you are poisoned by bitterness and bound by iniquity” (vv. 22–23).
Simon pleaded for Philip to pray for him, “that none of the things which you have spoken may come upon me” (v. 24). He was obviously shaken and terrified by Philip’s rebuke—for the moment, at least.
Simon’s sense of dread at the prospect of his own apostasy does not seem to have lasted long. Apparently he fell away from Christ forever that very day. He is never again mentioned by Luke (or anywhere else in the biblical record). But Justin Martyr, an apologist in the early church who was himself a Samaritan and who lived barely a generation after Simon’s time, recorded some details about Simon, and there is no reason to doubt Justin’s account. He says Simon was from the Samaritan village of Gitta. Justin and Irenaeus (a close contemporary of Justin’s and fellow apologist) both record that Simon began one of the very first quasiChristian cults. According to Irenaeus, the magician borrowed biblical imagery and biblical terminology and adapted them to various myths that he invented about himself—including the blasphemous claim that Simon himself was the true God incarnate. Simon is regarded by many early church historians as the founder of the first full-fledged gnostic sect. He is
known in church history as Simon Magus, and from his name is derived the term simony, the practice of selling ecclesiastical offices for money. No one is more dangerous to the Christian faith than an aggressive apostate. The career of Simon gave early proof of that.
THOSE WHO HAVE
SEEN THE TRUTH OF
THE GOSPEL, PROFESSED
TO BELIEVE IT, AND
THEN TURNED AWAY
FROM THE FAITH HAVE
NO HOPE OF REDEMPTION.
BOTH HEBREWS 6:4–6
AND 10:26–30 CONDEMN
THAT KIND OF APOSTASY
WITH A TONE OF UTTER
FINALITY, SUGGESTING
THAT THOSE WHO FALL
AWAY WILLFULLY NEVER
DO COME BACK
TO THE FAITH.
Those who have seen the truth of the gospel, professed to believe it, and then turned away from the faith have no hope of redemption. Both Hebrews 6:4–6 and 10:26–30 condemn that kind of apostasy with a tone of utter finality, suggesting that those who fall away willfully never do come back to the faith. Peter likewise said of apostates, “If, after they have escaped the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of the Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, they are again entangled in them and overcome, the latter end is worse for them than the beginning. For it would have been better for them not to have known the way of righteousness, than having known it, to turn from the holy commandment delivered to them” (2 Peter 2:20–21).
But people in that position often do devote their lives to attacking the truth they have rejected—and they normally use subtlety to do it. The rest of their lives, they say things like, “I’ve been there; done that—and it doesn’t work. I used to believe that, but it’s not true. I’m enlightened now. Let me enlighten you too.” Or, as so many today are prone to say, “I used to be sure that I knew and understood what Scripture means; but I’m not so arrogant as to make that claim anymore.”
Again, this is a classic echo of the serpent’s message to Eve: “Has God indeed said . . . ? Well, listen to me instead, and your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God” (cf. Genesis 3:1, 5).
THE LONG WAR FOR THE TRUTH
Like sin itself, apostasy is by no means a recent phenomenon, and it is not even something unique to the Christian era. From that moment in the garden when the serpent brought his war against truth into the world of humanity—through the close of the Old Testament canon and beyond, right down to the present day—the campaign against truth has been unrelenting and shockingly effective.
Again and again in the Old Testament, Israel was solemnly warned not to defect. Apostates nonetheless can be found in every period of Old Testament history. At times, it seemed as if the entire nation had apostatized at once. In Elijah’s generation, for instance (at a time when the total population of Israel almost surely could be counted in the millions), the number of the faithful dwindled to some seven thousand (1 Kings 19:18). Elijah even imagined for a while that he was the last true believer alive!
During Jeremiah’s lifetime, the size of the faithful remnant was probably smaller still. Almost everyone in Israel was utterly hostile to Jeremiah’s ministry. After four decades of powerful preaching, the great prophet stood essentially alone. Scripture gives no indication that he ever saw a single convert.
Throughout Old Testament history, the problem of apostasy was pervasive, and times of widespread faithfulness in the nation, such as the sweeping revival described in Nehemiah 8, were exceptional and mostly short-lived. Nehemiah’s revival quickly gave way to a watered-down and halfhearted form of religion (see Nehemiah 13). Spiritual lukewarmness dominated Israel’s later history. The whole nation finally became so utterly apostate that when the promised Messiah was born, virtually everyone missed the true significance of the event. Within three years of the start of His public ministry, they were crying for Him to be murdered as a dangerous imposter and threat to their religion. From a human perspective, it might even seem as if the enemies of truth usually had the upper hand in the Old Testament era.
It is no surprise, then, that the word apostasia appears several times in the Septuagint (an ancient Greek translation of the Old Testament that predates Christ by a couple of hundred years). In Joshua 22:22, for example, apostasy is characterized as “rebellion [and] treachery” against “the LORD God of gods.” Jeremiah 2:19 likewise employs the word apostasia to describe the backslidings of those who utterly forsook the Lord. That same verse defines the essence of all apostasy: “‘The fear of Me is not in you,’ says the Lord GOD of hosts.”
So apostasy, appalling and dismal though it is, has been an ever-present reality throughout all of redemptive history. Many people who know the truth reject it anyway, and thus it has always been. In that respect, the times in which we live are by no means extraordinary.
Even Jesus’ ministry provides a startling picture of real-life apostasy. John 6 records how large crowds showed up wherever He went while He was performing miracles. But they turned away en masse when He began to proclaim truth they did not want to hear. In most cases, it appears, their rejection of Christ was nothing less than final and irremediable apostasy. Near the end of that long, tragic chapter, verse 66 says this: “From that time many of His disciples went back and walked with Him no more.”
Jesus’ teaching made the truth starkly clear. These people, who evidently saw the truth plainly and understood Jesus’ teaching perfectly well, turned away anyway. In fact, the utter clarity of the truth was the very thing that drove them away. When they saw the truth for what it was, they simply hated it. It was too demanding, too unpopular, too inconvenient, too much of a threat to their own agenda, and too much of a rebuke to their sin. Remember, “men loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds were evil” (John 3:19).
So that is how the New Testament era began. Scripture also teaches that apostasy will be widespread at the end of the age. In the Olivet Discourse, Jesus gave an extended description of the last days, including this: “Many false prophets will rise up and deceive many” (Matthew 24:11). Peter likewise prophesied that “scoffers will come in the last days, walking according to their own lusts, and saying, ‘Where is the promise of His coming?’” (2 Peter 3:3–4). In 1 Timothy 4:1–2, the apostle Paul says, “The Spirit expressly says that in latter times some will depart from the faith, giving heed to deceiving spirits and doctrines of demons, speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their own conscience seared with a hot iron.” As a matter of fact, one of the major turning points at the end of this age will be a worldwide renunciation of the truth and a wholesale rejection of Christ, known as “the falling away” (apostasia), according to 2 Thessalonians 2:3.
So apostasy is a fact of all history, and there is never any kind of armistice in the Truth War. Our generation is certainly no exception to that rule. Some of the greatest threats to truth today come from within the visible church. Apostates are there in vast abundance—teaching lies, popularizing gross falsehoods, reinventing essential doctrines, and even redefining truth itself. They seem to be everywhere in the evangelical culture today, making merchandise of the gospel.
But false teachers aren’t necessarily even that obvious. They don’t wear badges identifying themselves as apostates. They usually try hard not to stand out as enemies of truth. They pretend devotion to Christ and demand tolerance from Christ’s followers. They are often extremely likable, persuasive, and articulate people. According to Jude, that is what makes apostasy such an urgent matter of concern for the church. It produces people who can infiltrate the church by “[creeping] in unnoticed” (Jude 4, emphasis added).
Paradoxically, people sometimes imagine today that there are no such things as false teachers and apostates, since Christianity has become so broad and all-embracing. There is no need to engage in a battle for the truth—since truth itself is infinitely pliable and thus capable of making room for everyone’s views. Some have even suggested that truth is broad enough to accommodate all well-intentioned ideas f
rom non-Christian religions. The problem of apostasy, then, is especially acute in the radically tolerant climate of today’s postmodern drift.
Many Christians today are weary of the long war over truth. They are uneasy about whether doctrinal disagreements and divisions are a blight on the spiritual unity of the church and therefore a poor testimony to the world. These and similar questions are constantly heard nowadays: “Isn’t it time to set aside our differences and just love one another?” “Rather than battling people with whom we disagree over various points of doctrine, why not stage a cordial dialogue with them and listen to their ideas?” “Can’t we have a friendly conversation rather than a bitter clash?” “Shouldn’t we be congenial rather than contentious?” “Does the current generation really need to perpetuate the fight over beliefs and ideologies? Or can we at last declare peace and set aside all the debates over doctrine?”
FALSE TEACHERS AREN’T
NECESSARILY EVEN
THAT OBVIOUS.
THEY DON’T WEAR
BADGES IDENTIFYING
THEMSELVES AS
APOSTATES. THEY
USUALLY TRY HARD
NOT TO STAND OUT AS
ENEMIES OF TRUTH.
THEY PRETEND DEVOTION
TO CHRIST AND
DEMAND TOLERANCE FROM
CHRIST’S FOLLOWERS.
Of course, there is a legitimate concern in the tone of such questions. Scripture commands us: “If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men” (Romans 12:18). “Pursue peace with all people” (Hebrews 12:14). “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control” (Galatians 5:22–23). Taken together, these passages make it clear that what Scripture demands of us is the polar opposite of a cantankerous attitude. No one who exhibits the fruit of the Spirit can possibly take delight in conflict. So it should be plain that the call to contend for the faith is not a license for pugnacious spirits to promote strife deliberately over insignificant matters. Even when conflict proves unavoidable, we are not to adopt a mean spirit.
The Truth War Page 9