The Sin That Splinters The Church
“One who spreads strife among brothers.” — Proverbs 6:19
There are few sins more quietly tolerated, more deeply embedded, or more spiritually destructive than the sin of dishonor. Not adultery. Not apostasy. But dishonor. It splits churches without calling a vote. It divides elders without raising a voice. It kills unity with a whisper. And Scripture tells us plainly: God hates it.
The Fifth Commandment, often reduced to a childhood rule of manners, is actually a sweeping moral demand that saturates every sphere of life. “Honor your father and mother” is just the beginning. The Westminster Larger Catechism, with surgical precision, reminds us that this command applies not only to parents but to “all superiors in age and gifts; and especially such as, by God’s ordinance, are over us in place of authority.” That includes elders, pastors, civil leaders, teachers, and all who bear the mantle of God-delegated rule. In short, honor is not a matter of preference. It is a matter of principle. And failure to show it is not a personality quirk. It is sin.
We live in a generation catechized by complaint. The world does not train us to revere authority but to question it, to resist it, to dismantle it. We are fluent in sarcasm, schooled in slander, and spiritually numb to the corrosive effects of low-grade rebellion. And tragically, this anti-authority instinct has seeped into the life of the Church. Members affirm their elders until the elders lead. Respect is reserved for when decisions are agreeable. Whisper campaigns replace biblical confrontation. Sarcasm masks discontent. Complaints circulate in group chats while prayers for unity remain absent from our lips. Even elders are not exempt—guarding turf instead of guarding the sheep, resisting accountability instead of modeling submission to Christ.
We must not confuse dishonor with disobedience alone. Sometimes dishonor is polite. Sometimes it is quiet. It does not always arrive with clenched fists or shouting matches. Often, it dresses itself in sophistication and discretion. It gossips under the guise of concern. It undermines in the name of insight. It treats leaders as disposable and views submission as optional. And yet the verdict of Scripture is unmistakable: “These six things the Lord hates… one who spreads strife among brothers” (Proverbs 6:16, 19). That is not a list of suggestions. It is a list of abominations. And sowing strife—especially among the people of God—is one of them.
Biblical honor, by contrast, is not a shallow politeness or robotic compliance. It is a weighty disposition of the soul that reveres God's structure and reflects His glory. It does not depend on flawless leadership. It does not wait for perfect policies. It is rooted in faith—faith that God's order is good, and that Christ reigns even through imperfect men. This is why the apostle calls believers to “obey your leaders and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls as those who will give an account” (Hebrews 13:17). The verse ends with a warning: “Let them do this with joy and not with grief, for that would be unprofitable for you.” Dishonor doesn't just dishonor your leaders—it impoverishes your soul.
This command cuts in every direction. Children must honor their parents, not just while young, but throughout life. Wives must honor their husbands, not as inferiors, but as fellow image-bearers under God's design. Members must honor their elders, not when convenient, but because God has placed those elders over them in love. And elders must honor those they lead—not lording their authority, but leading with humility, tenderness, and courage. To honor is not to cower or grovel—it is to rejoice in God's good gift of order and to live in submission to His wisdom.
So let us ask hard questions. Do I speak honorably about those God has placed over me? Or do I entertain and extend slander with my silence or subtle nods? Do I correct leaders with love, or do I critique them with contempt? Do I encourage those who serve the Church, or do I treat them like hired hands? Do I make their work a joy—or a grief?
Let us repent. Let us repent of pride that refuses correction. Let us repent of suspicion that assumes the worst. Let us repent of leadership that demands submission but will not model service. Let us repent of every way we have fractured the unity Christ died to secure. And let us see Christ afresh—not merely as the one who commands honor, but as the one who embodied it perfectly. Jesus submitted to earthly parents, though He made them. He submitted to unjust rulers, though He ruled the cosmos. He submitted to the will of the Father, though it meant death on a cross. And now He reigns as the one who gives order to the Church and authority to His people—not to oppress, but to bless.
Let honor return to the Church—not for the sake of smooth leadership, but for the sake of the Savior who bled to build a united bride. Let elders lead with gravity. Let members follow with gladness. Let families speak with reverence. Let homes, churches, and councils be places where honor flows like oil down Aaron’s beard—bringing peace, order, and divine blessing. And let us tremble—lest in dishonoring one another, we unwittingly dishonor Christ Himself.
