Does Orthodoxy Really Lead to Orthopraxy?

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“Orthodoxy leads to orthopraxy.”

You may have heard this expression before. It’s very popular in the Protestant evangelical world. “Orthodoxy leads to orthopraxy” is shorthand for the biblical principle that binds together sound doctrine (orthodoxy) with godly living (orthopraxy). In other words, to believe the right things leads to doing the right things.

The phrase is embedded in the evangelical ethos, part-and-parcel of our ethics, and so widely used that it’s almost cliché. Certainly, it goes unchallenged and accepted as common sense. But does orthodoxy really lead to orthopraxy?

In one sense, there’s definitely a case to be made that it does. Good theology matters because, as the Lord Jesus taught, “the truth will set you free” (John 8:32), freedom from the imprisonment of sin to a life of faithfulness. And the apostles habitually warn against false doctrine because it leads us to error and sin. Not only does the link between orthodoxy and orthopraxy exist, it’s also critical to the life of a believer.

But I’ve come to the opinion that this phrase doesn’t capture the whole story and, worse, for many people, it has morphed into a false myth that whispers an empty promise into our ears: “Your faithfulness to God will come naturally if you just believe the right things.”

The problem stems from the fact that we think of ourselves as Homo sapiens. Not in the sense that we are human beings, which we are, but in the sense of what Homo sapiens means, i.e., “man who thinks or reasons.” We are told by the world that what sets us apart from the animal kingdom, what makes us unique from dogs and dolphins, is our rationality. But that’s not what scripture says. What makes us unique is that we are created in the image of God. We’re not Homo sapiens; rather, we are Homo imago, “man who images.” We reflect—or, rather, were designed to reflect—God Himself.

And this God we reflect is not merely some immaterial mind, a spiritual super-consciousness or hyper-rationality. We reflect a God who does and a God who loves, a God who acts and a God who desires. God is not merely a mind; He is also a heart. The heart, in fact. God does not merely love—although He certainly does love—but “God is love” (1 Jn 4:8).

If we conceptualize ourselves as Homo sapiens and not Homo imago, then we run the risk of viewing ourselves as programmable robots. Configured with the right data we will eventually—even inevitably—perform right actions. This is, perhaps, one reason why we love “solid teaching” and “biblical preaching” so much. It’s a comforting thought that our closeness to truth automates obedience in us.

Conversely, the opposite is also true: bad data leads to wrong actions. A computer infected with malware doesn’t do what it’s supposed to do. So, we protect ourselves with anti-heresy software and isolate from the infected. We don’t want to risk hearing and believing something false, so we keep ourselves from our neighbors, just to be safe.

We assume that the root of obedience is in our mind when it’s really in our hearts.

Again, what we think matters. Truth matters. We are called to “take every thought captive to obey Christ” (2 Cor 10:5) and to “be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (Rom 12:2). It’s a good thing to have a firewall that prevents lies from entering. But, while it’s true that sound doctrine is inseparably linked to godly living, it’s not true that mere knowledge alone automates godly living.

Here’s why.

The Missing Piece in “Orthodoxy Leads to Orthopraxy”

Satan could ace a theology exam. Unlike you and me, he wouldn’t walk into the classroom, heart racing with sweaty palms, wondering if last night’s cram session will do the trick. He’d plop down at the desk, fly through the multiple-choice like he was voting straight party, and confidently walk away from a perfect score.

The enemy is very knowledgeable of truth, especially God’s word, but instead of obeying truth, he enlists his knowledge in the service of temptation.

The enemy relishes in subverting and distorting truth. His first temptation was rooted in such subversion—“did God really say?” (Gen 3:1)—and his famous temptation of Christ distorted scripture (Matt 4:5-6). As theologian Graham Cole put it, “the tempter targets the word of God.”[1] How can something be targeted without being seen and known? How could the enemy have tempted the Word of God without knowing the word of God (John 1:1, 14)?

In other words, it’s not for lack of knowledge that Satan is the archetype of sin. He knows truth—better than any of us—but lacks the desire to act on his knowledge.

And that’s the important nuance that “orthodoxy leads to orthopraxy” lacks. The enemy knows truth but does not desire truth’s end, so he does not obey. Orthodoxy doesn’t automatically lead to orthopraxy. Instead, orthodoxy pleads for orthopraxy. Truth appeals for us to live a life of obedience to Christ.

So, what is it that moves us from sound doctrine to godly living? It’s the one thing Satan lacks—a desire for faithfulness. We must desire to act rightly from our orthodoxy, and that desire comes from a Spirit-given love.

Orthogapy, the Right Desire for Faithfulness

The word we’re looking for, I think, is orthogapy. If you’ve never heard it before, that’s okay; I’ve just made it up. Like orthodoxy and orthopraxy, the word begins with the Greek orthos, meaning ‘correct’ or ‘right’, and combines it with the Greek agape, meaning ‘love.’ In other words, ‘orthogapy’ means ‘right love’ or ‘right desire’.

The path from orthodoxy to orthopraxy is paved by orthogapy, a right love fostered and formed by the Holy Spirit who dwells within us. Obedience is not rooted in what we believe about God but in a “love that issues from a pure heart” (1 Tim 1:5). What we believe about God informs and shapes our worship and service to him, but orthodoxy alone is powerless to prompt our obedience.

As theologian John Dagg put it: “When [theology] is learned, it ought not to be laid on the shelf, as an object of speculation; but it should be deposited deep in the heart, where its sanctifying power ought to be felt.”[2] Dagg likened theology to the Spirit of God, hovering over the human heart, as he did the “original chaos, bringing order out of confusion, and infusing light where darkness and death had previously reigned.”[3]

Orthodoxy ought to hover over our loves, fostering in us godly, biblical truth that moves us to godliness.

And not just any love, not love on our terms. As theologian Herman Bavinck noted, because God is love, he alone is “the foundation, source, and model of our love.”[4] The foundation of love is not laid on fickle culture; it is laid on the eternal Creator. The source of our love is not inside our hearts; it is in the passionate heart of God. And the model of our love is not found in aesthetics (i.e., art, film, music), but in Jesus Christ, God incarnate.

Just as orthodoxy is truth on God’s terms and not ours, so orthogapy is love on God’s terms, not ours.

This is why the heart plays such a prominent role in repentance and faithfulness. A repentant David cried out to God to “create in me a clean heart” (Ps 51:10). God promised his people that he would give them his Spirit and “a new heart,” which would enable them “to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules” (Ezek 36:26–27). By faith, that promise has come true in the Lord Jesus, who rules over our hearts (1 Pe 3:15).

Obedience to Christ begins in the heart. Our desire to follow Him then permeates through our understanding of truth, which shapes our actions toward God, our neighbors, and ourselves.

So, no, it’s not necessarily true that “orthodoxy leads to orthopraxy.” Instead, “orthogapy leads to an orthopraxy, which is formed and informed by orthodoxy.” But, admittedly, that’s quite a mouthful and not as pithy.

Still, the point stands. As the Apostle Paul argued, if I know and do all the right things, if I “understand all mysteries and all knowledge” (i.e., orthodoxy) and “give away all I have” (i.e., orthopraxy), but I “have not love, I am nothing . . . I gain nothing” (1Co 13:1–3).

Christian beliefs and behaviors that lack orthogapy are nothing.

Fostering our Orthogapy

If we want to take seriously the relationship of our orthogapy to our beliefs and life, where do we go from here? I think we begin by recognizing how a right desire affects our beliefs and behaviors. In other words, to think and to do against the backdrop of orthogapy.

For example, we ought to read the word of God to discover the heart of God. We sometimes tend to approach scripture as if it were a textbook of knowledge and instructions for faithful living. While the Bible is not less than a treasury of orthodoxy and orthopraxy, it’s so much more than that. Scripture is the living word of a living God whose heart beats to the rhythm of his holiness and good desires. Read scripture with an eye out for what God loves, and then love like He does.

Also, we ought to consider how orthogapy empowers our orthopraxy. Do we imagine that the “right things” we do are primarily for ourselves? In other words, does a right love motivate us only to personal obedience and not obedience as a community? I think the answer is obvious. Love requires a lover and a beloved, the one who loves and the other who receives love. How can we possibly love like God does in isolation? Community is the context in which we live out our orthopraxy and experience the blessing of orthogapy.

“May the Lord direct your hearts to the love of God and to the steadfastness of Christ” (2 Thess 3:5).

This essay was originally featured in Known Magazine.

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[1] Graham A. Cole, Against the Darkness: The Doctrine of Angels, Satan, and Demons (Downers Grove, IL: Crossway, 2019), 229.

[2] John Dagg, Manual of Theology, 1.

[3] John Dagg, Manual of Theology, 18.

[4] Herman Bavinck, Reformed Dogmatics 2:215