Convictions and Preferences

The evangelical world has come to make much of the distinction between convictions and preferences. For example, evangelical preacher Andy Stanley recently preached a sermon in which he stated that preferences arise from emotion, while convictions are based on principle; preferences are oriented toward here and now, but convictions are oriented toward the future; preferences are influenced by what others think, whereas convictions are influenced by what God thinks; preferences can be abandoned for the sake of immediate pleasure, but convictions are “seen as something with which one can obtain a reward;” preferences are convenience-oriented while convictions are sacrifice-oriented. Stanley’s treatment is nothing new. For years, David Gibbs and others have gone around the country touting the Supreme Court’s distinction between preferences and convictions: a preference may be a very strong belief, even one that leads to sacrifice, but it will change under the right kind of pressure; a conviction is a belief that will not change because the believer is convinced that God requires it.

These discussions are undoubtedly useful for maneuvering in certain kinds of situations, but they are not helpful for drawing moral distinctions. The essential problem is that they focus entirely upon the subjective degree of commitment to belief. Because of their subjective nature, they lack any mechanism to explain the problem of people who hold convictions but, for one reason or another, fail to live up to them. They cannot account for the Balthasar Hubmaiers or Galileos of this world.

Hubmaier was an Anabaptist preacher whose motto was “Truth Is Immortal.” He recanted twice under Romanist tortures, only to repent of his recantation after being released. Upon his third arrest, he refused to recant and was martyred for his faith. Does that mean that his Anabaptist principles were merely preferences during his first two trials? Or does it mean that human weakness prevented his living consistently with his convictions?

The Italian mathematician Galileo advanced empirical evidence that the earth moved around the sun rather than vice versa. Motivated mainly by political and philosophical concerns, the Roman church forced him to recant these claims. Having formally rejected his previous observation that the earth moved, Galileo is famously reported to have uttered, “And yet it moves.” His formal recantation did nothing to alter his actual belief. So which was his preference and which was his conviction?

For most purposes, the strength with which a belief is held is not morally relevant. What matters is the truth or falsehood, the virtue or vice, the beauty or ugliness, of the thing believed. To affirm error as truth, to choose vice instead of virtue, or to love ugliness instead of beauty is always wrong. Granted, the strength of commitment may aggravate this wrong, but it is not the determinative factor. Naturally, virtuous people will wish to grow in their commitment to the true, the good, and the beautiful—but unless they are motivated by some level of commitment to these things already, nothing upright can follow.

The problem with focusing upon the subjective strength of beliefs is that different people can commit themselves to complete opposites with equal fervor. Consequently, people have been known to die for lies, vices, and hideous distortions. The followers of Jim Jones were willing to die for a falsehood; Alexander the Great died of a vice (or so we are told); Hermann Goering died for a thoroughly ugly idea. None of them would have become virtuous people if only their beliefs had been preferences rather than convictions.

Some lies are useful, just as some vices are enjoyable and some ugliness is fascinating. When people begin to fall in love with error, badness, and ugliness, they find ways to protect what they love. One of the ways they may do that is to charge their opponents (the lovers of truth, goodness, and beauty) with elevating preferences to the level of conviction.

A realm of preference does exist, but it is not per se a moral realm. At meal time, someone may prefer pizza to tacos, tacos to French fries, and French fries to ice cream. That is different than preferring cyanide to food, and the difference is both qualitative and moral. The problem is not that cyanide has no uses, but that its right use is not for eating. If some people believe that cyanide is food, it doesn’t really matter whether their belief is a conviction or preference. What does matter is that they are not employed as cooks by the local restaurant.

Some evangelicals are fond of saying that we must not make an issue of our preferences, but it is unclear what they mean by preferences. Often this term functions simply to designate beliefs (or practices) that they dislike. The term preference allows them to dismiss the offending belief without really considering whether it is true, virtuous, or beautiful. By dismissing this question, though, they foreclose examination of their own beliefs and practices.

The Supreme Court found it necessary to draw a judicial distinction between preferences and convictions simply to avoid extending legal protections to frivolous practices in the name of freedom of religion. Christians do not face a parallel concern. Their responsibility is to order their lives and churches. Their standard of obedience must not be the subjective degree to which they are convinced of a belief, but whether that belief is true or false, good or bad, beautiful or ugly. For purposes of moral reasoning, the habit of evaluating beliefs as preferences or conviction should be cast into outer darkness.

This essay is by Kevin T. Bauder, Research Professor of Historical and Systematic Theology at Central Baptist Theological Seminary. Not every one of the professors, students, or alumni of Central Seminary necessarily agrees with every opinion that it expresses.

So Let Our Lips and Lives Express
Isaac Watts (1674–1748)

So let our lips and lives express
The holy Gospel we profess;
So let our works and virtues shine,
To prove the doctrine all divine.

Thus shall we best proclaim abroad
The honors of our Savior God,
When the salvation reigns within,
And grace subdues the power of sin.

Our flesh and sense must be denied,
Passion and envy, lust and pride;
While justice, temperance, truth, and love,
Our inward piety approve.

Religion bears our spirits up,
While we expect that blessèd hope,
The bright appearance of the Lord,
And faith stands leaning on His Word.