I want to explore a question I’ve been thinking about lately: What exactly is syncretism, and can it ever be good? I was prompted to reflect on this while reading Most Moved Mover by Clark Pinnock for a PhD course on the doctrine of God. On page 72, he makes an interesting statement: that not all syncretism is bad.
That made me pause. My first reaction was, “That’s just not true.” But as I kept reading, I began to realize that the issue might not be disagreement on values; it might be disagreement on definitions. So let’s dig into that. What is syncretism? Why is it typically viewed negatively in Christian theology? And is there ever a case to be made for it being helpful (or at least not harmful)?
What Is Syncretism?
At its core, syncretism refers to the blending of two or more different belief systems or practices into something new. In a general sense, that doesn’t necessarily sound bad, since people blend cultural practices all the time. But in theology, especially Christian theology, syncretism is usually a warning word.
Why?
Because it typically means that foreign or incompatible ideas have been imported into Christianity in a way that changes or distorts the gospel.
We’ve seen this historically. For example, early missionaries to Africa sometimes saw local converts blend Christian terminology with tribal religious practices. The result wasn’t biblical Christianity; it was something new. It became a hybrid religion that held onto animistic or magical practices while using Christian names and phrases. The same thing happened in parts of Latin America, Southeast Asia, and elsewhere.
So within that framework, syncretism isn’t just “adapting” Christianity to a culture. It’s compromising Christianity by blending it with elements that contradict or distort it.
Why Do Some People Say Syncretism Can Be Good?
This is where it gets a little more nuanced. The word syncretism has a negative connotation in most theological contexts. But sometimes, when people say syncretism might not be all bad, what they really mean is something more like: “We can recognize truth in other systems.”
And that’s where the definition matters.
For example, in the book I mentioned, Pinnock argues that Greek philosophy helped shape our articulation of the doctrine of God. That’s not a controversial claim. It’s historically verifiable. Much of early Christian theology was influenced (for better or worse) by philosophical categories borrowed from Plato, Aristotle, and others. The question isn’t whether that happened, but whether it should have.
So, is that syncretism? If you define syncretism as “borrowing terms or concepts from outside Christianity,” then yes. But if you define it more narrowly—as the blending of incompatible belief systems in a way that changes the essence of Christian doctrine—then it’s more complicated.
Let’s test that with a couple of examples.
Syncretism vs. Recognizing Truth
Let’s take Mormonism.
Mormonism and biblical Christianity are fundamentally different at the doctrinal level. In Mormonism, God became God, and human beings can eventually become gods, too. Jesus is not eternally God in the same sense as the Father. They have additional scriptures beyond the Bible. In short, you can’t blend Mormon theology with Christian theology without distorting both.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t recognize something admirable in Mormon culture. When I was in the Navy, I didn’t cuss. That made me stand out, because “cuss like a sailor” is a saying for a reason. What’s funny is that when people noticed I didn’t cuss, they’d ask if I was Mormon. Not Christian. Mormon. Why? Because most of the “Christians” they knew did cuss. But Mormons had a reputation for actually living out their beliefs.
That’s something we can learn from.
But that’s not syncretism. That’s recognizing a good practice and saying, “We should already be doing that.” It’s not blending Mormonism into Christianity. Rather, it’s recovering a part of Christian ethics we’ve neglected.
What About Paul and the Unknown God?
Another example people often bring up is Acts 17. Paul stands in front of the Areopagus in Athens and points to an altar inscribed “To the Unknown God.” Some argue this is an example of syncretism. After all, it seems like Paul is using pagan religion to communicate Christian truth.
But look closely. Paul doesn’t adopt their system. He doesn’t say, “You worship many gods and that’s okay. Let me just tell you about one more.” Instead, he uses their altar as a launch point to proclaim something radically different: the one true God, the Creator of all things, who cannot be contained by temples or idols. And that God sent his Son.
That’s not syncretism. It’s acknowledging a cultural marker and using it to point to truth, but without compromising the gospel.
It is also almost certain that Paul wouldn’t have done that if there wasn’t an “unknown” god. The fact that the Greeks worshiped an “unknown” god, for fear of causing offense, provided the perfect opportunity for Paul to tell them about this unknown God.
So… Can Syncretism Ever Be Good?
It depends on what you mean.
If you mean, “Can we ever acknowledge truth that exists outside the Bible?” then, of course. God’s general revelation is visible in creation, in logic, and even sometimes in false religions. All truth is God’s truth.
But if you mean, “Can we blend non-Christian beliefs with Christian doctrine and practice?” then no. That’s what syncretism historically has been, and it always leads to confusion or heresy.
It’s one thing to say, “Stoic philosophy gets some things right about virtue.” It’s another to say, “Therefore, we should interpret the gospel through Stoic categories.”
It’s one thing to say, “Buddhists value mindfulness.” It’s another to say, “Let’s redefine prayer through Buddhist meditation.”
Syncretism becomes dangerous the moment we smuggle unbiblical ideas into Christian belief and practice and assume they’re compatible.
Final Thoughts
So, is syncretism ever good?
If we’re using the traditional definition—blending Christianity with foreign, incompatible systems—the answer is no. But if someone is simply saying, “We shouldn’t reject truth just because it’s outside our system,” then we’re talking about something else entirely.
That’s not syncretism.
As Christians, we’re called to test everything, hold fast to what is good, and reject what is evil (1 Thess. 5:21–22). That means we don’t shut our eyes to truth wherever it appears—but we also don’t mix falsehood with the gospel.
There’s a difference between learning from the outside and blending with the outside. Syncretism does the latter, and that’s a road we can’t walk.
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L. J. Anderson - Author and Blogger 